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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e4f4f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68861 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68861) diff --git a/old/68861-0.txt b/old/68861-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 44b9e38..0000000 --- a/old/68861-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16472 +0,0 @@ -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68861 *** - - - - |=======================================================| - |Some typographical errors have been corrected. A list | - |follows the text. No attempt has been made to normalize| - |or correct the spelling of names. (Transcriber's note.)| - |=======================================================| - - - - -$4.50 - - S. HUROK PRESENTS - - A MEMOIR OF THE DANCE WORLD - - BY =S. HUROK= - - -In these exciting memoirs, S. Hurok, Impresario Extraordinary, reveals -the incredible inside story of the glamorous and temperamental world of -the dance, a story only he is qualified to tell. From the golden times -of the immortal Anna Pavlova to the fabulous Sadler’s Wells Ballet, -Hurok has stood in the storm-center as brilliant companies and -extravagant personalities fought for the center of the stage. - -Famous as “the man who brought ballet to America and America to the -ballet,” the Impresario writes with intimate knowledge of the dancers -who have enchanted millions and whose names have lighted up the marquees -of the world. Isadora Duncan, Loie Fuller, Lydia Lopokova, Escudero, the -Fokines, Adolph Bolm, Argentinita, Massine, Alicia Markova, Anton Dolin, -Robert Helpmann, Shan-Kar, Martha Graham, Moira Shearer, Margot Fonteyn, -Ninette de Valois, and Frederick Ashton are only a few of the -celebrities - - (_cont’d on back flap_) - - (_cont’d from front flap_) - -who shine and smoulder through these pages. - -The fantastic financial and amorous intrigues that have split ballet -companies asunder come in for examination, as do the complicated -dealings of the strange “Col.” de Basil and his various Ballet Russe -enterprises; Lucia Chase and her Ballet Theatre; and the phenomenal -tours of the Sadler’s Wells companies. - -Although the Impresario’s pen is sometimes cutting, it is also blessed -by an unfailing sense of humor and by his deep understanding that a -great artist seldom exists without a flamboyant temperament to match. - -There are many beautiful illustrations--32 pages. - - -[Illustration: _Hermitage house inc._] - -8 West 13 Street -New York, N. Y. - - - - - S. HUROK PRESENTS - - - - - S. HUROK - - _Presents_ - - - A MEMOIR OF THE DANCE WORLD - - By S. Hurok - - - HERMITAGE HOUSE NEW YORK 1953 - - - COPYRIGHT, 1953, BY S. HUROK - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - Published simultaneously in Canada by Geo. J. McLeod, Toronto - - Library of Congress Catalog Number: 53-11291 - - MANUFACTURED IN THE U.S.A. - AMERICAN BOOK-STRATFORD PRESS, INC., NEW YORK - - - To - The United States of America: - Whose freedom I found as a youth; - Which I cherish; - And without which nothing that has - been accomplished in a lifetime - of endeavour could have come to pass - - - - -CONTENTS - - - 1. Prelude: How It All Began 11 - - 2. The Swan 17 - - 3. Three Ladies: Not from the Maryinsky 28 - - 4. Sextette 47 - - 5. Three Ladies of the Maryinsky--and Others 66 - - 6. Tristan and Isolde: Michel and Vera Fokine 92 - - 7. Ballet Reborn in America: W. De Basil and his Ballets - Russes De Monte Carlo 105 - - 8. Revolution and Counter-Revolution: Leonide Massine - and the New Ballet Russe De Monte Carlo 125 - - 9. What Price Originality? The Original Ballet Russe 138 - -10. The Best of Plans ... Ballet Theatre 147 - -11. Indecisive Interlude: De Basil’s Farewell and a Pair of - Classical Britons 183 - -12. Ballet Climax--Sadler’s Wells and After ... 208 - -13. Epilogue: Unborn Tomorrow 310 - - Index 323 - - - - - S. HUROK PRESENTS - - - - -1. Prelude: How It All Began - - -In the mid-forties, after the publication of my first book, a number of -people approached me with the idea of my doing another book dealing with -the dance and ballet organizations I had managed. - -I did not feel the time was ripe for such a book. Moreover, had I -written it then, it would have been a different book, and would have -carried quite another burden. If it had been done at that time, it would -have been called _To Hell With Ballet!_ - -In the intervening period a good deal has happened in the world of -ballet. The pessimism that prompted the former title has given way on my -part to a more optimistic note. The reasons for this change of heart and -attitude will be apparent to the reader. - -At any rate, this book had to be written. In the volume of memoirs that -appeared some seven years ago I made an unequivocal statement to that -effect, when I wrote: “There’s no doubt about it. Ballet is different. -Some day I am going to write a book about it.” - -Here it is. It is a very personal account, dealing with dance and ballet -as I have seen it and known it. For thirty-four years I have not only -watched ballet, but have had a wide, first-hand experience of and -contact with most of the leading dance and ballet organizations of the -world. This book is written out of that experience. - -Ballet on this continent has come a long way along the road since the -night I bowed silently over the expressive hand of Anna Pavlova as she -stood among the elephants in Charles B. Dillingham’s Hippodrome. I like -to think, with what I hope is a pardonable pride, that I have helped it -on its journey. It has given me greater pleasure than any of the -multifarious other activities of my managerial career. On that side of -the ledger lies the balance. It has also given me a generous share of -heartaches and headaches. But, if I had it all to do over again, there -is little I would have ordered otherwise. - -Because of these things, I believe my point of view is wider than that -of the scholar, the critic, or the enthusiast. Ballet is glamourous. It -is technical and complex; an exacting science. It is also highly -emotional, on the stage, behind the scenes, and often away from the -theatre. Temperament is by no means confined to the dancing artists. - -During the course of these close contacts with the dance, a mass of -material has accumulated; far too much for a single book. Therefore, I -am going to attempt to give a panorama of the high spots (and some of -the low spots, as well) of three-and-one-half decades of managing dance -attractions, together with impressions of those organizations and -personalities that have, individually and collectively, contributed to -make ballet what it is today. - -With a book of this kind a good resolution is to set down nothing one -has not seen or heard for oneself. For the most part I shall try to -stick to that resolution. Whenever it becomes necessary to depart from -it, appropriate credit will be accorded. Without question there are -times when silence is the wiser part of narration, and undoubtedly there -will be times when, in these pages, silence may be regarded, I hope, as -an indication of wisdom. However, there are not likely to be many such -instances, since a devotion to candid avowal will compel the dropping of -the curtain for a few blank moments and raising it again at a more -satisfactory stage only to spare the feelings of others rather than -myself. - -One of the questions I have asked myself is where and how did this -passionate interest in dance arise. I was, as almost every one knows, -born in Russia. Dance and music are a part of the Russian. Russia was -the home of a ballet that reached the highest perfection of its time: an -organization whose influence is felt wherever and whenever a ballet -slipper is donned. Yet, as a country lad, springing from an obscure -provincial town, brought up in my father’s village hardware business and -on his tobacco plantation, I am unable to boast of having been bowled -over, smitten, marked for life by being taken at a tender age to see -the Imperial Ballet. No such heaven-sent dispensation was mine. I was a -long-time American citizen before I saw ballet in Russia. - -Nevertheless, I believe that the fact I was born in Russia not only -shaped my ends, but provided that divinity that changed a -common-or-garden-variety little boy into what I eventually became. -Consciously or unconsciously the Russian adores the artist, denies the -artist nothing. As a normal, healthy, small-town lad, in Pogar, deep in -the Ukraine, I sensed these things rather than understood them. For it -was in Pogar and Staradrube and Gomel, places of no importance, that I -not only came into contact with the Russian “adoration” of the artist; -but, something much more important, I drank in that love of music and -dance that has motivated the entire course of my life. - -The Imperial Ballet was not a touring organization; and Pogar, -Staradrube and Gomel were far too unimportant and inconspicuous even to -be visited by vacationing stars on a holiday jaunt or barnstorming trip. -But the people of Pogar, Staradrube and Gomel sang and danced. - -The people of Pogar (at most there might have been five thousand of -them) were a hard-working folk but they were a happy people, a -fun-loving people, when days work was done. Above all else they were a -hospitable people. Their chief source of livelihood was flax and -tobacco, a flourishing business in the surrounding countryside, which -served to provide the villagers with their means for life, since Pogar -was composed in the main of tradesmen and little supply houses which, in -turn, served the necessaries to the surrounding countryside. - -Still fresh in my mind is the wonder of the changing seasons in Pogar, -always sharply contrasted, each with its joys, each having its tincture -of trouble. The joys remain, however; the troubles recede and vanish. -Winter and its long nights, with the long hauls through the snow to the -nearest railway station, forty frigid miles away: a two-day journey with -the sleighs; the bivouacked nights to rest the horses. I remember how -bitterly cold it was, as I lay in the sleigh or alternately sat beside -the driver, wrapped in heavy clothes and muffled to my eyes; how, in the -driving snow, horses and drivers would sometimes lose the road entirely, -and the time spent in retracing tracks until the posts and pine trees -marking what once had been the edges of the road were found. Then how, -with horses nearly exhausted and our spirits low, we would glimpse the -flickering of a light in the far distance, and, heading towards it, -would find a cluster of little peasant huts. Once arrived, we would -arouse these poor, simple people, sometimes from their beds, and would -be welcomed, not as strangers, but rather as old friends. I remember -how, in the dead of night, still full of sleep, they would prepare warm -food and hot tea; how they would insist on our taking their best and -warmest beds, those on the stove itself, while they would curl up in a -corner on the floor. Then, in the morning, after more hot tea and a -piping breakfast, horses fed and refreshed, they would send us on our -way with their blessing, stubbornly refusing to accept anything in the -way of payment for the night’s lodging. - -This warm, human, generous hospitality of the Russian peasant has not -changed through devastation by war and pestilence. Neither Tsardom nor -Bolshevism could alter the basic humanity of the Russian people, who are -among the kindest and most hospitable on earth. - -The winter nights in Pogar, when the snow ceased falling and the moon -shone on the tinselly scene, were filled with a magic and unforgettable -beauty. The Christmas feasting and festivities will remain with me -always. But the sharpest of all memories is the picture of the Easter -fun and frolic, preceded by the Carnival of Butter-Week. Spring had -come. It mattered little that Pogar’s unpaved roads were knee-deep in -mud; the sun was climbing to a greater warmth: that we knew. We knew the -days were drawing out. It was then that music and dance were greater, -keener pleasures than ever. Every one sang. All danced. Even the lame -and the halt tried to do a step or two. - -We made the _Karavod_: dancing in a circle, singing the old, -time-honored songs. And there was an old resident, who lived along the -main roadway in a shabby little house set back from the lane itself, a -man who might have been any age at all--for he seemed ageless--who was a -_Skazatel_ of folk songs and stories. He narrated tales and sang stories -of the distant, remote past. - -The village orchestra, come Easter time, tuned up out of doors. There -was always a violin and an accordion. That was basic; but if additional -musicians were free from their work, sometimes the orchestra was -augmented by a _balalaika_ or two, a guitar or a zither--a wonderful -combination--particularly when the contrabass player was at liberty. -They played, and we all sang, above all, we sang folk song after folk -song. Then we danced: polkas without end, and the _Crakoviak_; and the -hoppy, jumpy _Maiufess_, while the wonderful little band proceeded to -outdo itself with heartrending vibratos, tremulous tremolos, and -glissandos that rushed up and down all the octaves. - -Spring merged into summer. The lilacs and the violets faded; but the -summer evenings were long and the change from day to night was slow and -imperceptible. It took the sun many hours to make up its mind to -disappear behind the horizon, and even then, after the edge of the -burning disk had been swallowed up by the edge of the Ukranian plain, -its scarlet, orange and pink memories still lingered fondly on the sky, -and on the surface of our little lake, as if it were reluctant to leave -our quiet land. - -It was then the music rose again; the _balalaikas_ strummed, and I, as -poor a _balalaika_ player as ever there was, added tenuous chords to the -melodies. From the near distance came the sound of a boy singing to the -accompaniment of a wooden flute; and, as he momentarily ceased, from an -even greater distance came the thin wail of a shepherd’s pipe. - -There was music at night, there was music in the morning. The people -sang and danced. The village lake, over which the setting sun loved to -linger, gave onto a little stream, hardly more than a brook. The tiny -brook sang on its journey, and the rivulets danced on to the Desna; from -there into the Sozh on its way to Gomel, down the Dnieper past the -ancient city of Kiev, en route to the Black Sea. And in all the towns -and villages it passed, I knew the people were singing and dancing. - -This was something I sensed rather than knew. It was this background of -music and dance that was uppermost in my thoughts as I left Russia to -make my way, confused and uncertain as to ambition and direction. -Despite the impact of the sumptuousness of the bright new world that -greeted me on my arrival in America, I found a people who neither sang -nor danced. (I am not referring to the melodies of Tin-Pan Alley or the -turkey-trot.) I could not understand it. I was dismayed by it. I was -filled with a determination to help bring music and dance into their -lives; to make these things an important part of their very existence. - -The story of the transition to America has been told. The transition was -motivated primarily by an overwhelming desire for freedom. In 1904 I -heard Maxim Gorky speak. Although it was six months later before I knew -who Maxim Gorky was, I have never forgotten what he said. Yet, moved as -I was by Gorky’s flaming utterance, it was Benjamin Franklin who became -my ideal. - -It was some time during Russia’s fateful year of 1905 that, somehow, a -translation of _Poor Richard’s Almanack_ fell into my hands. Franklin’s -ideas of freedom to me symbolized America. There, I knew, was a freedom, -a liberty of spirit that could not be equalled. - -Although I arrived at Castle Garden, New York, after a twenty-three day -voyage, in May, 1906, it was the fact that Philadelphia was the home of -Benjamin Franklin that drew me to that city to make it my first American -abiding place. - -The evidence of these boyhood dreams of America has been proved by my -own experience. - -My dream has become a reality. - - - - -2. The Swan - - -It was The Swan who determined my career in dance and ballet management. -Whatever my confused aspirations on arriving in America, the music and -dance I had imbibed at the folk fonts of Pogar remained with me. - -I have told the story of the gradual clarification of those aspirations -in the tale of the march forward from Brooklyn’s Brownsville. The story -of Music for the Masses has become a part of the musical history of -America. I had two obsessions: music and dance. Music for the Masses had -become a reality. “The Hurok Audience,” as _The Morning Telegraph_ -frequently called it, was the public to which, two decades later, _The -New York Times_ paid homage by asserting I had done more for music than -the phonograph. - -Through the interesting and exciting days of presenting Chaliapine, -Schumann-Heink, Eugene Ysaye, Mischa Elman, Efrem Zimbalist, Tetrazzini, -Tito Ruffo, the question of the dance, my other obsession, and how to do -for it what I had succeeded in doing for music, was always in my mind. - -It was then I met The Swan. - -Anna Pavlova is a symbol of ballet in America; nay, throughout the -world. I knew that here in America were a people who loved the dance, if -they could but know it. The only way for them to know it, I felt, was to -expose them to it in the finest form of theatre dance: the ballet. - -The position that ballet holds today in the affections of the American -public is the result of that exposure, coupled with a strongly -increasing enthusiasm that not only holds its devotees, but brings to it -a constantly growing new audience. But it was not always thus. Prior to -the advent to these shores of Anna Pavlova there was no continuous -development. America, to be sure, had had theatrical dancing -sporadically since the repeal of the anti-theatre act in 1789. But all -of it, imported from Europe, for the most part, had been by fits and -starts. From the time of the famous Fanny Ellsler’s triumphs in _La -Tarantule_ and _La Cracovienne_, in 1840-1842, until the arrival of Anna -Pavlova, in 1910, there was a long balletic drought, relieved only by -occasional showers. - -America was not reluctant in its balletic demonstrations in the Fanny -Ellsler period, when the opportunities for appreciation were provided. -The American tour of the passionately dramatic Fanny Ellsler was made in -a delirium of enthusiasm. She was the guest of President Van Buren at -the White House, and during her Washington engagement, Congress -suspended its sittings on the days she danced. She was pelted with -flowers, and red carpets were unrolled and spread for her feet to pass -over. Even the water in which she washed her hands was preserved in -bottles, so it is said, and venerated as a sacred relic. Her delirious -_Cachucha_ caused forthright Americans to perform the European -balletomaniac rite of toasting her health in champagne drunk from her -own ballet shoes. - -It is necessary now and then, I feel, to mark a time and place for -purposes of guidance. Therefore, I believe that the first appearance of -Anna Pavlova at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York on 28th -February, 1910 is a date to remember, since it may be said to mark the -beginning of the ballet era in our country. - -That first visit was made possible by the generosity of a very great -American Maecenas, the late Otto H. Kahn, to whom the art world of -America owes an incalculable debt. The arrangement was for a season of -four weeks. Her success was instantaneous. Her like never had been seen. -The success was the more remarkable considering the circumstances of the -performance, facts not, perhaps, generally remembered. Giulio -Gatti-Cazzaza, the Italian director of the Metropolitan Opera House, was -not what might be called exactly sympathetic to Otto Kahn’s -determination to establish the Opera House on a better rounded scheme -than the then prevalent over-exploitation of Enrico Caruso. As an -Italian opera director, Gatti-Cazzaza was even less sympathetic to the -dance, and was, moreover, extremely dubious that Metropolitan audiences -would accept ballet, other than as an inconsequential _divertissement_ -during the course of an opera. So opposed to dance was he, as a matter -of fact, that, although he eventually married Rosina Galli, the _prima -ballerina_ of the Metropolitan, he made her fight for ballet every inch -of the way and, on general operatic principle, opposed everything she -attempted to do for the dance. - -Because of his “anti-dance” attitude, and in order to “play safe,” Gatti -ordained that Pavlova’s American debut be scheduled to follow a -performance of Massenet’s opera _Werther_. The Massenet opera being a -fairly long three-act work, its final curtain did not fall until past -eleven o’clock. By the time the stage was ready for the first American -appearance of Pavlova, it was close to eleven-thirty. The audience that -had remained largely out of curiosity rather than from any sense of -expectation left reluctantly at the end. The dancing they had seen was -like nothing ever shown before in the reasonably long history of the -Metropolitan. For her début Pavlova had chosen Delibes’ human-doll -ballet, _Coppélia_, giving her in the role of Swanilda a part in which -she excelled. The triumph was almost entirely Pavlova’s. The role of -Frantz allowed her partner, Mikhail Mordkin, little opportunity for -virtuoso display, the _corps de ballet_ seems to have been -undistinguished, and the Metropolitan conductor, Podesti, most certainly -was not a conductor for ballet, whatever else he might have been. - -Altogether, in this first season, there were four performances of -_Coppélia_, and two of _Hungary_, a ballet composed by Alexandre -Glazounow. Additional works during a short tour that followed, and which -included Boston and Baltimore, were the Bacchanale from Glazounow’s _The -Seasons_, and _La Mort du Cygne_ (_The Dying Swan_), the miniature solo -ballet Michel Fokine had devised for her in 1905, which was to become -her symbol. - -Such was the success, Pavlova returned for a full season in New York and -a subsequent tour the following autumn, bringing Mordkin’s adaptation of -_Giselle_, and another Mordkin work, _Azayae_. - -It was six years later that The Swan floated into my life. In 1916, -Charles B. Dillingham, Broadway theatrical producer with a difference, -was the director of the Hippodrome, the unforgettable Sixth Avenue -institution. Dillingham was “different” for a number of reasons. He was -a theatre man of vision; the Hippodrome, with its fantastic and -colossal entertainments, if not his idea, was his triumph; he was -perhaps the only Broadway manager who had been offered the post of -business manager of the Metropolitan Opera Company, an offer he refused, -but he did accept a commission to make a complete survey of the -Metropolitan’s business affairs. - -For years I had stood in awe of him. - -In 1916, Dillingham engaged Pavlova to appear at the Hippodrome, with -her partner, Alexandre Volinine. Neither the auspices, the billing, nor -the setting could, by any stretch of the imagination, be termed ideal. -Dillingham’s Hippodrome bore the subtitle “The National Amusement -Institution of America,” an appellation as grandiose as the building -itself. The evening’s entertainment (plus daily matinees), of which The -Swan’s appearance was a part, was billed as “The Big Show, the Mammoth -Minstrels, and the Ice Ballet, The Merry Doll.” - -Every night I was there in my favorite place at the back of the house. I -soon learned the time schedule. I could manage to miss the skaters, the -jugglers, the “mammoth” minstrels, the acrobats, the jumbo elephants. I -would arrive a few minutes before Pavlova’s entrance. I watched and -worshipped from afar. I had never met her. “Who was I,” I asked myself, -“to meet a divinity?” - -One night, as the falling curtain cut her off from my view, a hand fell -on my shoulder. It was Dillingham, for whom my admiration remained but -my awe of him had decreased, since, by this time, we were both managers. -He looked at me with a little smile and said, “Come along, Sol. I’m -going back to her dressing-room.” - -The long hoped for but never really expected moment had come. Long had I -rehearsed the speech I should make when and if this moment ever arrived. -Now the time was here and I was dumb. I could only look. - -The Swan extended her hand as Dillingham presented me. She smiled. I -bent low over the world’s most expressive hand. At her suggestion the -three of us went to supper in the Palisades Amusement Park outdoor -restaurant, overlooking the Hudson and upper Manhattan. - -I shall have a few things to say about Pavlova, the artist, about -Pavlova, the _ballerina_. Perhaps even more important is Pavlova, the -woman, Pavlova, the human being. These qualities came tumbling forth at -our first meeting. The impression was ineradicable. As she ate a -prodigious steak, as she laughed and talked, here was a sure and -certain indication of her insatiable love of life and its good things. -One of her tragedies, as I happen to know, is that fullness of life and -love were denied her. - -I already have described this night in detail. I mention it again -because it sets a time and place: the beginnings of the realization of -the other part of my dream. I was already happily embarked on my avowed -purpose of bringing music to the masses. Although I may not have -realized it, that night when we first dined and talked and laughed, when -we rode the roller-coaster, and together danced the fox-trot at the -Palisades Amusement Park, was the beginning of my career in the world of -the dance. - -During Pavlova’s Hippodrome engagement I doubt I missed a performance. I -also saw a good deal of her off stage. A close friendship was formed and -grew. Many suppers together, with Volinine, her partner, and Ivan -Clustine, her ballet-master. - -In the years that followed there developed a long and unforgettable -association. Her first tour under my management, and large parts of -others, we made together; and not, I may say, entirely for business -reasons. Thus did I learn to know the real Anna Pavlova. - -For those of a generation who know Pavlova only as a legend, there is a -large library of books about her as artist and dancer. As for myself, I -can only echo the opinion of J. L. Vaudoyer, the eminent French critic, -when he said: “Pavlova means to the dance, what a Racine is to poetry; a -Poussin to painting; a Gluck to music.” - -At the time of the Pavlova tours, the state of balletic appreciation in -America was certainly not very high. Pioneering in ballet was hard, -slogging work for all concerned, from every point of view. The endless -travel was not only boring but fatiguing. It took all our joint and -several wits to overcome the former, a strong constitution to endure the -latter. Traveling conditions then were infinitely more primitive than -now, making the strain of constant touring all the greater. The reason -that Pavlova willingly endured these grinding tours year after year was -because, in my belief, she simply could not live without working. These -tours were not predicated upon any necessity. Twenty-five years of her -life, at least one-half of it, she spent on trains and ships. Aside from -Ivy House, in London, to which she made brief visits, hotel rooms were -almost her only home. There was no financial necessity for this. - -Then, in addition to all the vicissitudes of travel under such -conditions, there persisted another aspect: the aesthetic inertia of -the public at the whistle-stops demanded every ounce and every facet of -audience persuasion. - -Among certain latter-day critics there exists a tendency not so much to -belittle as to try to underrate Pavlova, the dancer, Pavlova, the -artist; to negate her very great achievement Many of these denigrators -never saw her; still fewer knew her. Let me, for the benefit of the -doubters and those readers of another generation who are in the same -predicament, try to sum her up as she was, in terms of today. - -There exists a legend principally dealing with a certain intangible -quality she is said to have possessed. This legend is not exaggerated. -In any assessment of Anna Pavlova, her company, her productions, I ask -the reader to bear in mind that for twelve years she was the only ballet -pioneer regularly touring the country. She was the first to bring ballet -to hundreds of American communities. I should be the first to admit that -her stage productions, taken by and large, were less effective than are -those of today; but I ask you, at the same time, to bear in mind the -development of, and changes that have taken place in, the provincial -theatre in its progress from the gas-light age, and to try to compare -producing conditions as they were then, with the splendid auditoriums -and the modern equipment to be found in many places today. Compare, if -you will, the Broadway theatre productions of today with those of -thirty-five years ago. - -Anna Pavlova was a firm believer in the “star” system, firmly entrenched -as she was in the unassailable position of the _prima ballerina -assoluta_. Her companies were always adequate. They were completely and -perfectly disciplined. They were at all times reflections of her own -directing and organizing ability. Always there were supporting dancers -of more than competence. Her partners are names to be honored and -remembered in ballet: Adolph Bolm, with whom she made her first tour -away from Imperial Russia and its Ballet: Mikhail Mordkin, Laurent -Novikoff, Alexandre Volinine, and Pierre Vladimiroff; the latter three, -one in the American mid-west, one in Paris, and one in New York, still -founts of technical knowledge and tradition for aspiring dancers. - -In its time and place her repertoire was large and varied. Pavlova was -acquainting a great country with an art hitherto unknown. She was -bringing ballet to the masses. If there was more convention than -experiment in her programmes, it must be remembered that there did not -exist an audience even for convention, much less one ready for -experimentation. An audience had to be created. - -It should be noted that at this time there did not exist as well, so far -as this continent was concerned, as there did in Europe, any body of -informed critical opinion. The newspapers of the wide open spaces did -not have a single dance critic. In these places dance was left to music -and theatre reporters in the better instances; to sports writers on less -fortunate occasions. - -Conditions were not notably better in New York. Richard Aldrich, then -the music critic of _The New York Times_, was completely anti-dance, and -used the word “sacrilege” in connection with Pavlova and her -performances. More sympathetic attitudes were recorded later by W. J. -Henderson of _The Sun_, and by Deems Taylor. About the only New York -metropolitan critic with any real understanding of and appreciation for -the dance was that informed champion of the arts, Carl Van Vechten. - -I have mentioned Pavlova’s title as _prima ballerina assoluta_. She held -it indisputably. In the hierarchy of ballet it is a three-fold title, -signifying honor, dignity, and the establishment of its holder in the -highest rank. With Pavlova it was all these things. But it was something -more. Hers was a unique position. She was the possessor of an absolute -perfection, a perfection achieved in the most difficult of all -schools--the school of tradition of the classical ballet. She possessed, -as an artist, the accumulated wisdom of a unique aesthetic language. -This language she uttered with a beauty and conviction greater than that -of her contemporaries. - -Unlike certain _ballerinas_ of today, and one in particular who would -like ballet-lovers to regard her as the protégé, disciple, and -reincarnation of Pavlova rolled into one, Pavlova never indulged in -exhibitions of technical feats of remarkable virtuosity for the mere -sake of eliciting gasps from an audience. Hers was an exhibition of the -traditional school at its best, a school famed for its soundness. Her -balance was something almost incredible; but never was it used for -circus effects. There was in everything she did an exquisite lyricism, -and an incomparable grace. And I come once again to that intangible -quality of hers. Diaghileff, with whom her independent, individualistic -spirit could remain only a brief time, called her “ ... the greatest -_ballerina_ in the world. Like a Taglioni, she doesn’t dance, but -floats; of her, also, one might say she could walk over a cornfield -without breaking a stalk.” The distinguished playwright, John Van -Druten, years later, used a similar simile, when he described Pavlova’s -dancing “as the wind passing like a shadow over a field of wheat.” - -Does it matter that Pavlova did not leave behind any examples of great -choreographic art? Is it of any lasting importance that her repertoire -was not studded with experiments, but rather was composed of sound, -well-made pieces, chiefly by her ballet-master, Ivan Clustine? Hers was -a highly personal art. The purity and nobility of her style compensated -and more than compensated for any production shortcomings. The important -thing she left behind is an ineffable spirit that inhabits every -performance of classical ballet, every classroom where classical ballet -is taught. As a dancer, no one had had a greater flexibility in styles, -a finer dramatic ability, a deeper sense of character, a wider range of -facial expressions. Let us not forget her successful excursions into the -Oriental dance, the Hindu, the dances of Japan. - -Above and beyond all this, I like to remember the great humanity and -simplicity of Pavlova, the woman. I have seen all sides of her -character. There are those who could testify to a very human side. A -friend of mine, on being taken back stage at the Manhattan Opera House -in New York to meet Pavlova for the first time, was greeted by a -fusillade of ballet slippers being hurled with unerring aim, not at him, -but at the departing back of her husband, Victor Dandré, all to the -accompaniment of pungent Russian imprecations. Under the strain of -constant performance and rehearsal, she was human enough to be ill -tempered. It was quite possible for her to be completely unreasonable. - -On the other hand, there are innumerable instances of her -warmheartedness, her generosity, her tenderness. Passionately fond of -children, and denied any of her own, the tenderness and concern she -showed for all children was touching. This took on a very practical -expression in the home she established and maintained in a _hôtel privé_ -in Paris for some thirty-odd refugee children. This she supported, not -only with money, but with a close personal supervision. - -Worldly things, money, jewelry, meant little to her. She was a truly -simple person. Much of her most valuable jewelry was rarely, if ever, -worn. Most of it remained in a safe-deposit vault in a Broadway bank in -New York City, where it was found only after her death. - -Money was anything but a motivating force in her life. I remember once -when she was playing an engagement in Chicago. For some reason business -was bad, very bad, as, on more than one occasion, it was. The public at -this time was firmly staying away from the theatre. I was in a depressed -mood, not only because expenses were high and receipts low, but because -of the effect that half-empty houses might have on Pavlova and her -spirits. - -While I tried to put on a smiling front that night at supper after the -performance, Pavlova soon penetrated my poker-faced veneer. She leaned -across the table, took my hand. - -“What’s wrong, Hurokchik?” she asked. - -“Nothing,” I shrugged, with as much gallantry as I could muster. - -She continued to regard me seriously for a moment. Then: - -“Nonsense.” She repeated it with her usual finality of emphasis. -“Nonsense. I know what’s wrong. Business is bad, and I’m to blame for -it.... Look here ... I don’t want a penny, not a _kopeck_.... If you can -manage, pay the boys and girls; but as for me, nothing. Nothing, do you -understand? I don’t want it, and I shan’t take it.” - -Pavlova’s human qualities were, perhaps, never more in evidence than at -those times when, between tours and new productions, she rested “at -home,” at lovely Ivy House, in that northern London suburb, Golder’s -Green, not far from where there now rests all that was mortal of her: -East Wall 3711. - -Here in the rambling unpretentiousness of Ivy House, among her -treasures, surrounded by her pets, she was completely herself. Here such -parties as she gave took place. They were small parties, and the -“chosen” who were invited were old friends and colleagues. Although the -parties were small in size, the food was abundant and superlative. On -her American tours she had discovered that peculiarly American -institution, the cafeteria. After rehearsals, she would often pop into -one with the entire company. Eyes a-twinkle, she would wait until all -the company had chosen their various dishes, then select her own; after -depositing her heavily laden tray at her own table, she would pass among -the tables where the company was seated and sample something from every -dish. Pavlova adored good food. She saw to it that good food was served -at Ivy House and, for one so slight of figure, consumed it in amazing -abundance. - -One of these Ivy House parties in particular I remember vividly, for her -old friend, Féodor Chaliapine, that stupendous figure of the world of -the theatre who had played such an important part in my own life and -career, was, on this occasion, the life of the party. He was in a -gargantuan mood. He had already dined before he arrived at Ivy House. I -could imagine the dinner he had put away, for often his table abounded -with such delicacies as a large salmon, often a side of lamb, suckling -pigs, and tureens of _schchee_ and _borscht_. But despite this, he did -ample justice to Pavlova’s buffet and bar. His jokes and stories were -told to a spellbound audience. These were the rare occasions on which I -have seen this great musician, with his sombre, rather monkish face, -really relax. - -This night Pavlova was equally animated, and Chaliapine and she vied -with each other in story-telling. I studied them both as I watched them. -Pavlova had told me of her own origins and first beginnings; about her -father, her mother, her childhood poverty. Here she sat, sprung from -such a humble start, the world’s greatest dancer, the chatelaine of a -beautiful and simple home, the entire world at her feet. - -Facing her was another achievement, the poor boy of Kazan, who, in his -early life, suffered the pangs of hunger and misery which are the common -experience of the Russian poor. He had told me how, as a lad of -seventeen in the town of Kazan without a kopeck in his pocket, day after -day, he would walk through the streets and hungrily gaze into the -windows of the bakers’ shops with hopeless longing. “Hurok,” he had -said, “hunger is the most debasing of all suffering; it makes a man like -a beast, it humiliates him.” - -One of the few serious stories he told that evening was of the time when -he and my childhood idol, Maxim Gorky, were working on the boats on the -Volga and had to improvise trousers out of two pairs of old wheat-sacks -which they tied round their waists. Gorky and Chaliapine were both from -Kazan and of the same age. Tonight, as the party wore on, Chaliapine -sang folk songs, gay songs, sad songs, ribald songs. Loving fine -raiment, tonight he had worn a tall gray top hat. When he arrived and we -had greeted him in the hallway, I caught him watching his reflection in -the long mirror and getting great satisfaction out of it. Now, as he -sang, he became a Tsar, and it was difficult to imagine that he had -never been anything but a great Tsar all his life. - -The party waxed even gayer, the hour grew late. We were all sitting on -the floor: Pavlova, Chaliapine, his wife Masha, and the other guests. -Chaliapine had been gazing at Pavlova for some time. Suddenly he turned -and fixed his eyes on his wife appraisingly. - -“Masha, my dear,” he said, after a long moment, “you don’t object to my -having a child by Annushka?” - -Masha smiled tolerantly and quickly replied: - -“Why don’t you ask her?” - -Chaliapine, with all the dignity and solemnity of a Boris Godunoff, put -the question to Pavlova. Pavlova’s eyes fixed themselves on his, with -equal gravity. - -“My dear Fedya,” she said, quite solemnly, “such matters are not -discussed in public.” - -She paused, then added mischievously: - -“Let us make an appointment. I am leaving for Paris in a day or two.... -Perhaps I shall take you along with me....” - - * * * * * - -In all the dance, Pavlova was my first love. It was from her I received -my strongest and most lasting impressions. She proved and realized my -dreams. To the Western World, and particularly to America, she brought a -new and stimulating form of art expression. She introduced standards, if -not ideas, that have had an almost revolutionary effect. - -Anna Pavlova had everything, both as an artist and as a human being. - - - - -3. Three Ladies: Not From -the Maryinsky - - -A. _A NEGLECTED AMERICAN GENIUS--AND -HER “CHILDREN”_ - -Although my association with her was marked by a series of explosions -and an overall atmosphere of tragi-comedy, it is a source of pride to me -that I was able to number among my dance connections that neglected -American genius, Isadora Duncan. - -It was Anna Pavlova who spurred my enthusiasm to bring Isadora to her -own country, in 1922, a fact accomplished only with considerable -difficulty, as those who have read my earlier volume of memoirs will -recollect. - -Despite the fact they had little in common, Pavlova had a tremendous -respect for this tall American dancer, who abhorred ballet. - -Genius is a dangerous word. Often it is bandied about carelessly and, -sometimes, indiscriminately. In the case of this long-limbed girl from -California it could not be applied more accurately or more precisely, -for she was a genius as a person as well as an artist. She brought to -Europe and to her own America, as well, a new aesthetic. - -One of four children of a rebellious mother who divorced the father she -did not love, Isadora’s childhood was spent in a quasi-Bohemian -atmosphere in her native San Francisco, where her mother eked out a -dubious living by giving music lessons. Isadora was the youngest of the -four. Brother Augustin took to the theatre; Brother Raymond to long -hair, sandals, Greek robes, and asceticism; Sister Elizabeth eventually -took over Isadora’s Berlin School. - -What started Isadora on the road of the dance may never be known; -although it is a well established fact that she danced as a child in San -Francisco, and early in her career traveled across the United States, -dancing her way, more or less, to New York. I am reasonably certain that -her dancing of that period bore little or no relation to that of her -later period. Her early works were, for the most part, innocuous little -pieces done to snippets of music by Romantic composers. Her triumphs -were in monumental works by Beethoven, Wagner, César Franck. - -Her battle was for “freedom”: freedom in the dance; freedom in wearing -apparel; freedom for women; freedom for the body; freedom for the human -spirit. In the dance, ballet was to her a distortion of the human form. -Personally, I suspect the truth was that the strict discipline of ballet -was something to which Isadora could not submit. Inspiration was her -guiding force. She wore Greek draperies when she danced; her feet were -bare. Yet there are photographs of Isadora, taken in the later -’nineties, showing her wearing ballet slippers, and a costume in which -considerable lace is to be seen. It was Europe, I feel, that “freed” her -dance. - -Isadora’s was a European triumph. In turn she conquered Germany, -Austria-Hungary, Russia, Greece. She was hailed and fêted. There was no -place in the American theatre for Isadora’s simplicity and utter -artlessness. It was in Budapest that the tide turned for her, thanks -particularly to an able manager, one Alexander Gross. While I never knew -Mr. Gross, I believe he fulfilled the true manager’s purpose and -function. Gross made an audience for a great artist, an audience where -one did not exist before, until, eventually, all Europe was her -audience. - -I have said that inspiration was Isadora’s guide. She did, of course, -have theories of dance; but these theories were, for the most part, -expressed in vague and general, rather than in precise and particular, -terms. They can be summed up in a sentence. She believed that dance was -life: therefore, the expression of some inner impulse, or urge, or -inspiration. The source of this impulse she believed was centered in -the solar plexus. She also believed she was of tremendous importance. -Her own ideas of her own importance were, in my opinion, sometimes -inflated. - -To her eternal credit it must be noted that she battled against sugary -music, against trivial themes, against artificiality of all sorts. When -her “inspiration” did not proceed directly from the solar plexus, she -found it in nature--in the waves of the sea and their rhythms, in the -simple process of the opening of a flower. - -These frank and simple and desirable objectives, if they had been all, -would not have excited the tremendous opposition that was hers -throughout her lifetime. Nor did this opposition, I believe, spring -solely from her unconventional ideas on love and sex. Isadora insisted -on becoming a citizen of the world, a champion of the world’s less -fortunate, the underprivileged. In doing so she cleared the air of a lot -of nonsense and a lot of nineteenth century prudery which was by way of -being carried over into the twentieth. - -In Europe, in each and every country she visited, she arrayed herself on -the side of the angels, i.e., the revolutionaries. The same is true in -her own country. She shocked her wealthy patrons with demonstrations of -her own particular brand of democracy. - -There was an occasion, during one of her appearances at the Metropolitan -Opera House, when she walked with that especial Isadorian grace to the -footlights and gave the audience, with special reference to the -boxholders, the benefits of the following speech: - -“Beethoven and Schubert,” she said, “were children of the people all -their lives. They were poor men and their great work was inspired by and -belongs to humanity. The people need great drama, music, dancing. We -went over to the East Side and gave a performance for nothing. What -happened? The people sat there transfixed, with tears rolling down their -cheeks. That is how they cared for it. Funds of life and poetry and art -are waiting to spring from the people of the East Side.... Build for -them a great amphitheatre, the only democratic form of theatre, where -everyone has an equal view, no boxes; no balconies.... Why don’t you -give art to the people who really need it? Great music should no longer -be kept for the delight of a handful of cultured people. It should be -given free to the masses. It is as necessary for them as air and bread. -Give it to them, for it is the spiritual wine of humanity.” - -As for the ballet, she continued to have none of it. She once remarked: -“The old-fashioned waltz and mazurka are merely an expression of sickly -sentimentality and romance which our youth and our times have outgrown. -The minuet is but the expression of the unctuous servility of courtiers -at the time of Louis XIV and hooped skirts.” - -Isadora’s European successes led to the establishment of schools of her -own, where her theories could be expounded and developed. The first of -these was in Berlin, and as her pupils, her “children,” developed, she -appeared with them. When she first went to Russia, the controversy she -stirred up has become a matter of ballet history; and it is a matter of -record that she influenced that father of the “romantic revolution” in -ballet, Michel Fokine. - -Russia figured extensively in Isadora’s life, for she gave seasons -there, first in 1905, and again in 1907 and 1912. Then, revolutionary -that she was, she returned to the Soviet in 1921, established a school -there and, in 1922, married the “hooligan” poet, Sergei Essenin. -Throughout her life, Isadora had denounced marriage as an institution, -disavowed it, fought it, bore three children outside it, on the ground -that it existed only for the enslavement of woman. - -There had been three Duncan seasons in America before I brought her, in -1922, for what proved to be her final visit to her native country. The -earlier American series were in 1908, when she danced with Walter -Damrosch and the New York Symphony Orchestra, at the Metropolitan Opera -House, prior to a tour; in 1911, when she again danced with Damrosch; -again in 1916, when she returned to California, early the next year, -after a twenty-two years’ absence. She also visited New York, briefly, -in 1915, impulsively renting a studio at Fourth Avenue and Twenty-third -Street, with the idea of establishing a school. It was during this brief -visit that she made history of a kind by suddenly improvising a dance to -the French national anthem at the Metropolitan Opera House. - -As I have pointed out, enlightened dance criticism, so far as the -newspapers were concerned, in those days was almost non-existent. For -those readers who might be interested, however, there are available, in -the files of _The New York Times_, penetrating analyses of her -performances by the discerning Carl Van Vechten. - -The story of Isadora’s intervening years is marked by light and shadow. -Hers was a life that could not long retain happiness within its grasp. -Snatches of happiness were hers in her brief association with England’s -greatly talented stage designer, that misunderstood genius of the -theatre, Gordon Craig, the son of Ellen Terry, by whom Isadora had a -child; and yet another child by the lover who was known only as -Lohengrin. - -Her passionate love of children was touching. Never was it better -exemplified than by her several schools, her devotion to the girls and -her concern for them. Most of all was it apparent in her selflessness in -her attitude towards her own two children. It is not difficult to -imagine the depth of the tragedy for her when a car in which they were -riding on their way to Versailles toppled into the Seine, and the -children were drowned. A third child, her dream of comfort and -consolation, died at birth. - -It was in an attempt to forget this last tragedy that she brought her -school to New York. That same Otto Kahn, who had made Pavlova’s first -visit to America possible, came to her rescue and footed the bills for a -four weeks’ season at the old Century Theatre, which stood in lower -Central Park West, where Brother Augustin held forth with Greek drama -and biblical verse, and Isadora and the “children” danced. The public -remained away. There was a press appeal for funds with which to -liquidate a $12,000 indebtedness and to provide funds with which to get -Isadora and the “children” to Italy. Another distinguished art patron, -the late Frank Vanderlip, and others came to the rescue with cash and -note endorsements. Thus, once again, Isadora put her native America -behind her in disgust. Her parting shot at the country of her birth was -a blast at Americans living and battening in luxury on their war profits -while Europe bled. - -Her 1916-1917 visit to her home shores was no more auspicious than the -others. She danced, as I have said, at the Metropolitan Opera House. -Lover Lohengrin gave her a magnificent party following the performance, -a soirée that ended in an expensive and scandalous debácle. Isadora sold -her jewels piece by piece, and succeeded in establishing her school at -Long Beach. Quickly the money disappeared, and Gordon Selfridge, the -London equivalent of Marshall Field, paid her passage to London. The -“children,” now grown up into the “Isadorables,” remained behind to make -themselves American careers. - -It was after Isadora’s departure for London, in 1917, that I undertook -to help the six “children” to attain their desires. They were a -half-dozen of the loveliest children imaginable. - -For their American debut as an independent group, we first engaged -George Copeland, specialist in the works of contemporary French and -Spanish composers, and an artist of the first rank, and later, Beryl -Rubinstein, American composer and teacher, and until his recent death -director of the Cleveland Institute, as accompanists. - -Smart New York had adopted the “Isadorables.” The fashionable magazines -had taken them up and had spread Dr. Arnold Genthe’s photographs of -Anna, Lysel, Gretl, Thérése, Erica, and Irma over their pages. Frank -Crowninshield championed them. During a hot June they sold out a -half-dozen performances in Carnegie Hall, which takes some doing at any -time of the year. Following a successful tour, I presented them at the -Metropolitan Opera House, this time with an orchestra. - -The girls, charming, delightful, fresh, were a direct product of -Isadora, for which she used herself as model. Theirs was a reproduction -of Isadora’s art. One of them functions actively today, Maria Thérésa, -giving out a fine, strong, sturdy reflection of Isadora’s training and -ideas. Basically, as an individualist, Isadora was a solo artist. She -made no great effort to build up group dances into a series of linked -dances that result in some form of dance drama. Such mass dances as she -arranged were in imitation of the Greek chorus. Broken down into simple -elements, they were nothing more than lines of girls, all of whom -repeated the same simple movements. Her own creative gifts, which were -magnificent, found their expression in her solo dances, and it is in -this respect Maria Thérésa splendidly carries on. - -It was in Germany that Isadora’s ideas made the deepest impression, and -any legacy she may have left finds its expression in the “free” school -that comes out of that country. If she had no abiding place, Berlin saw -more of her when she was at her best than any other country. It was -there that the term “goddess” was attached to her. Even the sick were -brought to see the performances of the _Göttliche Heilige_ Isadora in -order that they might be cured. The serious German writers were greatly -impressed. Isadora expressed it thus: “The weekly receptions at our -house in Victoria Strasse became the centre of artistic and literary -enthusiasm. Here took place many learned discussions on the dance as a -fine art; for the Germans take every art discussion most seriously, and -give the deepest consideration to it. My dance became the subject of -violent and even fiery debates. Whole columns constantly appeared in all -the papers, sometimes hailing me as a genius of a newly discovered art, -sometimes denouncing me as a destroyer of the real classic dance, i.e., -the ballet.” - -In _Impresario_ I have written about Isadora’s last American tour, -under my management, in all its more lurid aspects. In February, 1923, -she returned to France, and in 1924 went back to Russia with her -poet-husband, Essenin. Not long after, Essenin hanged himself to a hook -on the wall of his room in the Hotel Angleterre, in Leningrad. In 1927, -Isadora returned to Paris, and on 8th July gave her last concert at the -Théâtre Mogador. - -Her last conversation with me in Paris was of the “children.” This time -she was referring to the pupils at her school in Russia. As I listened, -I could only feel that these “children” were to her but symbols of her -own two children wastefully drowned in the Seine. She wanted me to bring -her Russian “children” to America--a visit, as it were, of her own -spirit to her native land which had refused to accept her. - -I promised. - -In 1928, I was able to fulfill that promise by bringing fifteen of them, -chosen by Irma of the “Isadorables,” for a tour. Irma came with them, -presided over them; brought them back for a second tour. Irma now lives -quietly in the Connecticut countryside. - -A twisting scarf, caught in the wheels of the car in which she was -riding, ended the earthly career of a misunderstood American genius. Was -the end deliberate? I only know she longed to die, she with the -passionate love for life. - -A tremendous freedom-loving American, she may, I feel, be called the -first American dancer, in the sense that she brought a new style and a -new manner, away from the accepted form of ballet. I, for one, believe -that Isadora did more than any one else I know for the dance in America, -and received less gratitude and recognition for her contribution. - -Now that she is dead, I feel for her exactly as I always felt. Though we -do not love our friends for one particular quality but as a whole, there -is usually an element which, while the friend is still with us, -especially appeals to us, and the memory of which we most cherish when -he or she is absent for a while or for ever. For me that element in -Isadora was and is the extreme gentleness hidden in her heart of hearts. -Those who knew her only as a combative spirit in the world of the dance -may be astonished at that statement. Yet I hold that gentleness to have -been absolutely fundamental in her character and that not a few of her -troubles were attributable to continuing and exasperating outrage of it. - -There was a superficial side of her that may seem to contradict that -gentleness. She had exasperating eccentricities, stupid affectations. -Her childishness and capriciousness, her downright wilfulness could -drive me nearly to distraction. She could, and often did waste infinite -hours of my time, and her own and others’ money. She lacked discipline -in herself, her life, her work. She could have been less arbitrary in -many things, including her condemnation of ballet. On the other hand, -she had a quality of communication rare indeed in the theatre. Her -faults were, as I have said, superficialities. At base she was a -genuinely gentle person. - -Just because she was gentle she could, her sympathy being aroused, exert -herself to an extraordinary degree and after no gentle fashion on behalf -of those things in which she believed, and of others, particularly -artists. For the same reason, she frequently could not properly exert -herself on her own behalf. She was weary (weary unto death at the last) -when that spring of gentleness, in which some of her best work had its -origin, failed her. Hers was an intellect, in my opinion, of wider -range, of sterner mettle, of tougher integrity, of more persistent -energy and of more imaginative quality than those of her detractors. I -hold because of Isadora’s innate gentleness, and the fact it was so -fundamental a thing in her, being exasperated both by the events of her -life and by her intellect’s persistent commentary upon those events, she -became towards the close so utterly weary and exhausted that any -capacity for a rational synthesis was lost. Hers was a romantic nature, -and a rational synthesis usually proceeds by the tenderness of the heart -working upon the intellect to urge upon it some suspension of judgment, -and not by the hardness of the intellect working upon the heart and -bidding it, in reason’s name, to cease expecting to find things other -and better than they are: the hearts of other humans more tender and -their heads one whit less dense. - -A few words on what has been criticized by many as her “free living.” -Today an unthinking license prevails in many circles. If Isadora’s life -displayed “license” in this sense, it certainly was not an unthinking -“license.” Isadora strongly held theories about personal freedom of -thought and behavior and dared to act according to them. Those theories -may be wrong. That is a problem I have not here space to discuss. But -that, believing in those theories, Isadora acted upon them and did not -reserve them merely for academic discussion, I hold to her eternal -credit. That Isadora did others and herself damage in the process must -be admitted. But I have observed that many “conventional” persons do -others and themselves a great deal of damage without displaying a tithe -of Isadora’s integrity and courage, since they act crudely upon theories -in which they no longer in their heart of hearts believe, or contradict -their theories in captious action for lack of courage to discover new -theories. Let us not forget that “few know the use of life before ’tis -past.” Isadora died before she was fifty, endowed with a temperament -little calculated to make easy the paths of true wisdom, paths which, I -venture to suggest, often contradict the stereotyped notions of them -entertained by those who are unable or unwilling too closely to consider -the matter. To her personal tragedies must be added the depressing -influence of the unfathomable indifference of her countrymen to art and -artists and to herself. - -I take it I have said enough to indicate that such “conventional” -solutions as may occur to some readers were inadmissible in Isadora’s -case, just as inadmissible in fact as they would be in a novel by -Dostoievsky. In any event, she paid to the end for any mistakes she may -have made, and it is not our duty to sit in judgment on her, whether one -theoretically disapproves of her use of what sometimes has been called -the “escape-road.” It is one’s duty to understand, and by understanding -to forgive. - -I have heard it remarked that there was a streak of cruelty in Isadora. -Gentle natures of acute sensibility and strong intelligence, long -exasperated by indifference and opposition to what they hold of -sovereign importance in art and life, are apt to turn cruel and even -vindictive at times. I never witnessed her alleged cruelty or -vindictiveness to any one and I will not go on hearsay. - -One of the great satisfactions of a long career in the world of dance is -that I was able to be of some service to this neglected genius. I can -think of no finer summation of her than the words of that strange, aloof -genius of the British theatre, Gordon Craig, when he wrote: - - “ ... She springs from the Great Race---- - From the line of Sovereigns, who - Maintain the world and make it move, - From the Courageous Giants, - The Guardians of Beauty---- - The Solver of all Riddles.” - - -_B. COLORED LIGHTS AND FLUTTERING SCARVES_ - -It is a far cry from Isadora to another American dancer, whose -“children” I toured across America and back, in 1926. - -Loie Fuller, “the lady with the scarf,” was at that period championed by -her friend, the late Queen Marie of Roumania, when that royal lady -embarked upon a lecture tour of the United States that same year. Loie -Fuller was loosely attached to the royal entourage. - -“La Loie” had established a school in Paris, and wanted to exhibit the -prowess of her pupils. I was inveigled into bringing them quite as much -by Loie Fuller’s dynamic, active manager, Mrs. Bloch, as I was by the -aging dancer herself. - -Loie Fuller was something of a phenomenon. Born in Chicago, in 1862, her -first fame was gained as a child temperance lecturer in the mid-west. -According to her biographers, she took some dancing lessons, but found -the lessons too difficult and abandoned them after a short time. -Switching to the study of voice, she gave up her youthful Carrie Nation -attacks on alcohol and obtained a singing part in a stage production. As -the story goes, while she was appearing in this stage role, a friend in -India made her a gift of a long scarf of very light weight silk. Playing -with her present, watching it float through the air with the greatest of -ease, she found her vocation. It was as simple as that. - -Here was something new: a dance in which a great amount of fluttering -silk was kept aloft, the while upon it there constantly played -variegated lights, projected by what in the profession is known as a -“color-wheel,” a circular device containing various colored media, -rotated before an arc-lamp. Thus was born the _Serpentine Dance_. - -Here was no struggle on the part of the artist to find her medium of -expression, no seeking for a new technique or slogging effort perfecting -an old one; no hours spent sweating at the _barre_; no heartache. Loie -Fuller was not concerned with steps, with style, with a unique and -individual quality of movement. Loie Fuller had a scarf. Loie Fuller had -an instantaneous success. Her career was made on the _Serpentine Dance_. -But she also had one other inspiration. A “sunrise” stage effect that -she used was mistaken by the audience as a dance of fire, as the light -rays touched her flowing scarves and draperies. “La Loie” was not one to -miss a chance. She gathered her electricians about her--for in the early -days of stage lighting with electricity nothing was impossible. The -revolving “light-wheels” were increased in number, as were the -spot-lights. - -Since all this happened in Paris, Loie Fuller’s _Danse de Feu_ became to -France what the _Serpentine Dance_ had been to America. The French -adopted her as their own. Widely loved, she became “La Loie.” Her stage -arrangements were often startling; they could not always be called -dancing. The arms and feet of her “children” were always subordinated to -the movements of the draperies. So tricky was the business of the -draperies that it is said that none of her designers or seamstresses -were permitted to know more than a small part of their actual -construction. - -Her imitators were many, with the result that, for a time, the musical -comedy stages of both Europe and America had an inundation of -illuminated dry goods. It was the “children” who kept “La Loie’s” -serpentine and fire dances alive. - -When Loie Fuller suggested the American tour, the idea interested me -because of the novelty involved. It was, incidentally, my only -“incognito” tour. I accepted an invitation from Queen Marie of Roumania -to visit her at the Royal Palace in Bucharest to discuss the proposed -tour with Her Majesty and Loie Fuller, who was a close friend and -confidante of the Queen. The tour was in the interest of one of the -Queen’s pet charities and, moreover, it had diplomatic overtones. -Naturally, under the circumstances, no managerial auspices were credited -on the programmes. - -In addition to the purely Loie Fuller characteristic numbers, the Loie -Fuller Dancers, on this tour, offered _Some Dance Scenes from the Fairy -Tale of Her Majesty Queen Marie’s_ “_The Lilly of Life_,” as _presented -at the Grand Opera, Paris_. - -Apart from this, the “children” had all the old Loie Fuller tricks, and -a few new ones. Their dance vocabulary was far from extensive, but there -was a pleasant enough quality about it. - -When I made the tour, in association with Queen Marie, the “children” -were, to put it kindly, on the mature side; and it took a great deal of -their dramatic, vital and dynamic managers drive to keep the silks -fluttering aloft. Mrs. Bloch was a remarkable woman, who had handled the -“children” for Loie Fuller a long time. - -The tour of the Loie Fuller Dancers is not one of my proudest -achievements; but I know the gay colours, the changing lights brought -pleasure to many. - -Years later, on a visit to Paris, I received a telephone call from Mrs. -Bloch, requesting an appointment. It was arranged for the following day. -At the appointed hour I went down to the foyer of the Hotel Meurice to -await her coming. - -Some minutes later, I observed an elderly lady, supported by a cane, -enter and cross the foyer, walking slowly as the aged do, and using her -cane noticeably to assist her. I paid scant attention until, from where -I sat near the desk, I overheard her explaining to the _conciérge_ that -she had a “rendezvous” with Monsieur Hurok. - -I simply did not recognize the human dynamo of 1926. A quarter of a -century had slipped by. Much of that time, she told me, she had spent in -Africa. Despite the change in her physical appearance, despite the toll -of the years, the flame still burned within her. - -Her mission? To try to get me to bring the Loie Fuller Dancers to -America for another tour. - -As I observed the changes that had taken place in their manager, I could -not help visualizing what twenty-five years must have done to the -“children.” - - -C. _A TEUTONIC PRIESTESS_ - -My dance associations in what I may call my “early middle” period led me -into excursions far afield from that form of dance expression which is -to me the most completely satisfying form of theatrical experience. - -For the sake of the record, let us set the date of this period as 1930. -Surely there have been few in the history of the dance whose approach to -the medium was so foreign to and so different from the classical ballet, -where lie my deepest interests and my chief delight, than that Teutonic -priestess, Mary Wigman. - -When I brought Wigman to America, shortly after the Great Crash, she was -no longer young. She had been born in Germany, in 1886, and could hardly -have been called a “baby ballerina.” Originally a pupil of Emile Jacques -Dalcroze, the father of Eurhythmics, whose pupils in a “demonstration” -had kindled Wigman’s interest in the dance, she did not remain long with -him. Dalcroze himself, at this stage, apparently had little interest in -dancing. However, he established certain methods which proved of -interest to certain gifted dancers. The Dalcroze basis was musical, and -his chief function was to foster a feeling for music in his pupils. -Music frustrated, handicapped, restricted her, Wigman felt. -Individualist that she was, she left her teacher in order to work out -her own dance destiny. There followed a period of some uncertainty on -her part, and, for a time, she became a pupil of the Hungarian teacher, -Rudolf von Laban, who laid down in pre-war Germany the foundations for -modern dance. Unlike Isadora Duncan, Laban had no aversion to ballet. As -a matter of fact, he liked much of it, was influenced by it; was -impressed by the Diaghileff Ballet, was friendly with Diaghileff, and -became an intimate of Michel Fokine. His later violent reaction from -ballet was certainly not based on lack of knowledge of it. - -At the Laban school, Wigman collaborated with him, and having a streak -of choreographic genius, was able to put some of Laban’s theories into -practical form. However, Mary Wigman’s forceful personality was greater -than any school and, in 1919, she broke away from Laban, and formed a -school of her own. She abandoned what were to her the restricting -influences of formal music, as Isadora had abandoned clothing -restrictions. A dancer of tremendous power, like Isadora she had an -overwhelming personality. Again, like Isadora, all this had a tendency -to make her pupils only pale imitations of herself. Wigman’s public -career, a secondary matter with her, actually began in Dresden, in 1918, -with her _Seven Dances of Life_. Dresden was her temple. Here the -Teutonic Priestess of the Dance presided over her personal religion of -movement. German girls were joined by Americans. The disciples grew in -number and spread out through Germany like proselyting missionaries. -Wigman groups radiated the gospel until one found schools and factories -and societies turning out _en masse_ for “demonstrations” of the Wigman -method. I have said that Wigman found music a deterrent to her method. - -On the other hand, one of the most important features of her “school” -was a serious, thorough, Germanic research into the question of what she -felt was the proper musical accompaniment for dance. Her pupils learned -to devise their own rhythmic accompaniment. In her show pieces, at any -rate, Wigman’s technique was to have the music for the dance composed -simultaneously with the creation of the dance movements--certainly a new -type of collaboration. - -In addition to forming a “_schule_,” where great emphasis was laid on -“_spannungen_,” perhaps best explained as tensions and relaxations, she -also created a philosophical cult in that strange hot-house that was -pre-war Germany, with an intellectualized approach to sex. - -I had known about her and her work long before I signed a contract with -her for the 1930-1931 season. Pavlova had talked to me about her and had -aroused my curiosity and interest; but I was unable to imagine what -might be America’s reaction to her. I was turning the idea over in my -mind, when there appeared at my office,--in those days in West -Forty-second Street, overlooking Bryant Park,--a young and earnest -enthusiast to plead her case. His name was John Martin. - -In an earlier chapter I have pointed out the low estate of dance -criticism of that period. In its wisdom, the _New York Times_ had, -shortly before the period of which I now write, taken tentative steps to -correct this deficiency by creating a dance department on the paper, -with John Martin engaged to report the dance. Martin’s earnest and -special pleading on behalf of Mary Wigman moved me and, as always, eager -to experiment and present something new and fresh, I decided to cast the -die. - -The effect of my first announcement of her coming was a bit -disconcerting. The first to react were the devotees. There was a -fanaticism about them that was disturbing. It is one thing to have a -handful of vociferous idolaters, and quite another to be able to fill -houses with paying customers night after night. - -When I met Wigman at the pier on her arrival in New York, I greeted a -middle-aged muscular Amazon, a rather stuffy appearing Teutonic Amazon, -wearing a beaver coat of dubious age, and a hat that had seen better -days. But what struck me more forcibly than the plainness of her apparel -was the woman herself. She greeted me with a warm smile; her gray eyes -were large, frank, and widely set; and from beneath the venerable and -rather battered hat, fell a shock of thick, wavy brown hair. She spoke -softly, deeply, in a completely unaccented English with a British -intonation. - -There was no ballet company with her, no ship-load of scenery, -properties and costumes. Her company was made up of two persons in -addition to herself: a lesser Amazon in the person of Meta Mens, who -presided over Wigman’s costumes--one trunk--and her percussion -instruments--tam-tams, Balinese gongs, and a fistful of reedy wind -instruments; the other, a lanky, pale-faced chap with hyper-thyroid -eyes, Hanns Hastings, who composed and played such music as Wigman used. - -On the day before the opening, I gave a party at the Plaza Hotel as a -semi-official welcome on the part of our American dancers, among whom -were included that great pioneer of our native contemporary dance, -Martha Graham, together with Doris Humphrey, Charles Weidman, and, of -course, that champion of the modern dance, John Martin. - -Much depended upon Wigman’s first New York performance. A tour had been -arranged, but not booked. There is a decided difference in the terms. In -the language of the theatre, a tour is not “booked” until the contracts -have been signed. The preliminary arrangements are called “pencilling -in.” The pencil notations are inked only when signatures are attached to -the contracts. If the New York _première_ fizzled, there would be no -inking. I had taken the Forty-sixth Street Theatre, and the publicity -campaign under the direction of my good friend, Gerald Goode, had been -under way for weeks. - -It was a distinguished audience and a curious one that assembled in the -Forty-sixth Street Theatre for the opening performance. It was an -enthusiastic one that left at the end. I had gone back stage before the -curtain rose to wish Wigman well, but the priestess was unapproachable. -As she did before each performance, she entered the “silence.” Under no -circumstances did she permit any disturbance. She would arrive at the -theatre a long time before the scheduled time of the curtain’s rise, -and, in her darkened dressing-room, lie in a mystic trance. Later she -danced as one possessed. - -If the opening night audience was enthusiastic, which it was, I am -equally sure some of its members were confused. At later performances, -as I stood in my customary position at the rear of the auditorium as the -public left the theatre, I was not infrequently pressed by questions. -These questions, however they may have been phrased, meant the same -thing. “What do the dances mean?” “What is she trying to say?” “What -does it all signify?” I am not easily embarrassed, as a rule. The -constant reiteration of this question, however, proved an exception. - -For the benefit of a generation unfamiliar with the Wigman dance, I -should explain that her dances were, as she called them, “cycles.” In -other words, her performances consisted of groups of dances with an -alleged relationship: a relationship so difficult to discern, however, -that I suspect it must have existed only in Wigman’s mind. The one dance -that stands out most vividly in my mind is one she called _Monotonie_. -In _Monotonie_, Wigman stood in the dead center of the stage. Then she -whirled and whirled and whirled. As the whirling continued she was first -erect, then slowly crouching, slowly rising until she was erect again; -but always whirling, the while a puny four-note phrase was endlessly -repeated. Through a sort of self-hypnosis, her whirling had an hypnotic -effect on her. In a sort of mystic trance herself, Wigman succeeded, up -to a point, in inducing a similar reaction on her public. - -But what did it mean? I did not know, but I was determined to find out. -Audience members, local managers, newspaper men were badgering me for an -answer. To any query that I put to Wigman, her deep-throated reply was -always the same: - -“Oh, the meaning is too deep; I really can’t explain it.” - -It was much later, during the course of the tour following the New York -season, that I arrived at the “meaning” of Wigman’s dances, and that -will be told in its proper place. - -After the tumult and the shouting had died that opening night at the -Forty-fourth Street Theatre, I took Wigman to supper with some friends. -As we left the theatre together, Wigman was still in her trance; but, as -the food was served, she came out of it with glistening eyes and a -rapid-fire sort of highly literate chatter, in the manner of one sliding -back to earth from the upper world. - -The party over and Wigman back in her hotel, I sat up to await the press -notices. They were splendid. No one dared describe her “meaning,” but -all were agreed that here was a dynamic force in dance that drove home -her “message.” The notice I awaited most eagerly was that of the _New -York Times_. The first City Edition did not carry it, something which I -attributed to the lateness of the final curtain. I waited for the Late -City Edition. Still not a line about Wigman. I simply could not -understand. - -For years I had struggled to have the dance treated with respect by the -press. Through the Pavlova days I talked and tried to convert editors to -a realization of its importance. Any readers who are interested have -only to turn up the files of their local newspapers and read the -“reviews” of the period of the Pavlova and Diaghileff companies to find -that ballet, in most cases, was “covered” by disgruntled music critics, -who had been assigned, in many cases obviously against their wills, to -review. You would find that the average music critic either overtly -disliked ballet and had said so, or else treated it flippantly. - -At the time of Wigman’s arrival in America, the ice had been broken, as -I have said, by the appointment of John Martin at the head of a -full-time dance department at the _New York Times_. Mary Watkins, -eager, enthusiastic, informed, was fulfilling a like function on the -_New York Herald-Tribune_. Thus dance criticism was on its way to -becoming professional; and the men and women of knowledge and taste and -discernment who criticize dance today, I cannot criticize. For I have -respect for the professional. - -The _New York Times_ review of Wigman’s opening performance did not -appear. Since John Martin had urged me to bring Wigman to America, it -was the more baffling. Prior to Martin’s engagement by the _New York -Times_, that remarkable and beloved figure, William (“Bill”) Chase, for -so many years the editor of the music department of the _Times_ and -formerly the music critic of the _Sun_, and to the end of his life my -very good friend, had “reported” the dance. Since he insisted he knew -nothing about it, he never attempted to criticize it. I had frequently -suggested to “Bill” that the _Times_ should have a qualified person at -the head of a _bona fide_ dance department. Eventually John Martin was -engaged, and I am happy to have been able to play a part in the -beginnings of the change on the part of the American press. - -I have mentioned that the change was gradual, for Martin’s articles at -first were unsigned and had no by-line. In the early days, Martin merely -reported on dance events. To be sure, at that time, there was little -enough to report. Then Leonide Massine was brought to the Roxy Theatre -by the late Samuel Rothapfel to stage weekly presentations of ballet; -and then there was something about which to write. Since then John -Martin has helped materially to spread the gospel of ballet and dance. - -It was at approximately the Massine-Roxy stage of the dance criticism -development that I searched the _Times_ for the Wigman notice. Most of -the newspapers carried rave reviews, and because they did, I was the -more mystified, since in the _Times_ there was not so much as a mention -even that the event had taken place. However, out-of-town friends, -including the late Richard Copley, well-known concert manager, -telephoned me from New Jersey to congratulate me on the glowing review -they had read in the Suburban Edition, and read it to me over the -telephone. There were dozens of other calls from suburban communities to -the same effect. - -I called the editorial department of the _Times_ to enquire about its -omission from the New York City edition. There was some delay, but -eventually I was informed that it would seem that the night city editor -had read John Martin’s story in the Suburban Edition, saw that it -carried no by-line, no signature; read its glowing and enthusiastic -account of the Wigman _première_; and because it was so fulsome in its -enthusiasm, assumed it was merely a piece of press-agent’s ballyhoo, and -forthwith pulled it out of all other editions. - -Armed with this information, I proceeded to bombard the _Times_ with -protests. One of these was directly to the head of the editorial -department, whom I asked to reprint the notice that had been dropped. I -was rather summarily told I was not to try to dictate to the _Times_ -what it should print. By now utterly exasperated, I got hold of my -friend “Bill” Chase, who drily counselled me to “keep my shirt on.” -Chase immediately went on a tour of investigation. He called me back to -tell me that the Board of Editors at their daily meeting had gone into -the matter but were unwilling to print the notice I had asked, since -they had been “scooped” by the other newspapers and it was, therefore, -no longer news: but, they had decided that, in the future, Martin would -have a by-line. Then Chase added, with that wry New England humour of -his for which he was famous, that, with the possession of a by-line, no -editor would dare “kill” a review. It might, of course, be cut for -space, but never “killed.” - -The next Sunday the readers of the _New York Times_ read John Martin’s -notice of Mary Wigman’s first performance, and it was uncut. But it was -a paid advertisement, bearing, in bold-faced type, the heading: “_THE -NEWS THAT’S FIT TO REPRINT_.” - -As a result of the New York _première_, the “pencilled” tour was -“inked,” and I traveled most of the tour with the Priestess. Newspaper -men continued to demand to know the “meaning” of her dances. Since -Wigman, most literate of dancers, refused any explanation, I made up my -own. I told a reporter that Wigman was continuing and developing the -work of Isadora Duncan. The reporter wrote his story. It was printed. -Wigman read it without comment. From then on, however, Wigman’s reply to -all queries on the subject was: “Where Isadora Duncan stopped, there I -began.” - -The quickly “inked” tour was a success beyond any anticipations I had -had, and a second tour was booked and played with equal success. The -mistake I made was when I brought her back for a third season, and with -a group of her disciples. America would accept one Wigman; but twenty -husky, bulky Teutonic Amazons in bathing suits with skirts were more -than our public could take. - -Moreover, the group was not typical of the Wigman “schule” at anything -like its best. As a matter of fact, it was a long way from the Teutonic -Priestess’s highest standards. - - * * * * * - -It was after the war. Mrs. Hurok and I were paying our first post-war -visit to Switzerland, and stopped off at Zurich. My right-hand bower, -Mae Frohman, had come to Zurich to join us. We learned that Wigman was -there as well, giving master-classes in association with Harald -Kreutzberg. Our initial efforts to find her were not successful. - -Mrs. Hurok, Miss Frohman and I were at dinner. We were unaware that -another diner in the same restaurant was Mary Wigman. It was Miss -Frohman who recognized her as she was leaving the room. Wigman had -changed. Time had taken its inevitable toll. The meeting was a touching -one. We all foregathered in the lounge for a talk. Things were not easy -for her; nor was conversation exactly smooth. Her Dresden “_schule_” had -been commandeered by the Nazis. She was now living in the Russian sector -of Germany. It had been very difficult for her to obtain permission from -the Russian authorities to come to Zurich for her master-classes. She -was obliged to return within a fixed period. She preferred not to talk -about the war. Conversation, as I have said, was not easy. But there are -things which do not require saying. My sympathies were aroused. The -great, strong personality could never be quite erased, nor could the -fine mind be utterly stultified. - -I watched and remembered a great lady and a goodly artist. It is -gratifying to me to know that she is now resident in the American zone -of Berlin, and able to continue her classes. - - - - -4. Sextette - - -_A. A SPANISH GYPSY_ - -Such was the influence of The Swan on my approach to dance that, -although she was no longer in our midst, I found myself being guided -subconsciously by her direction. There were arrangements for a tour of -Pavlova and a small company, for the season 1931-1932, not under my -management. Death liquidated these arrangements. Had the tour been made, -Pavlova was to have numbered among her company the famous Spanish gypsy -dancer of the 1930’s, Vicente Escudero, one of the greatest Iberian -dancers of all time. - -Pavlova had championed Duncan and Wigman. I had brought them. I -determined to bring Escudero to help round out the catholicity of my -dance presentations. Spanish dancing had always intrigued me, and I had -a soft spot for gypsies of all nationalities. - -Escudero, who had been the partner of the ineffable Argentina, had -earned a reputation which, to understate, bordered on the picturesque. -Small, wiry, dark-skinned, with an aquiline nose, he wore his kinky, -glossy black hair long to cover a lack-lustre bald spot. He, like most -Spanish gypsies, claimed descent from the Moors, and there was about him -more of the Arab than the Indian. As I watched him I could understand -how he must have borne within him the stigma of the treatment Spain had -meted out to his people; for it was not until the nineteenth century -that the gypsies in Spain had any freedom at all. Until then, they were -pariahs, hounded by the people, hounded by the law. Only within the last -fifty-or-so years has the Spanish gypsy come into his own with the -universal acknowledgment of being a creative artist, the originator of a -highly individual and beautiful art. - -Escudero was a Granada gypsy, a “_gitano_” from the white caves hollowed -out in the Sacred Mountain. I point this out in order to distinguish him -from his Sevillian cousins, the “_flamenco_.” His repertoire ranged -through the _Zapateado_, the _Soleares_, the _Alegrias_, the _Bulerias_, -the _Tango_, the _Zamba_. His special triumph was the _Farruca_. - -It was on the 17th January, 1932, that I introduced Vicente Escudero to -New York audiences at the 46th Street Theatre, where Wigman had had her -triumph. A number of New York performances were given, followed by a -brief tour, which, in turn, was succeeded by a longer coast-to-coast -tour the following year. His company consisted of four besides himself: -a pianist, a guitarist; the fiery, shrewish Carmita, his favorite; and -the shy, gentle-voiced Carmela. - -But it was Escudero’s sinister, communicative personality that drew and -held audiences. His gypsy arrogance shone in his eyes, in the audacious -tilt of his flat-brimmed hat, in his complete assurance; above all it -stood out in his strutting masculinity. Eschewing castanets, for gypsy -men consider their use effeminate, he moved sinuously but majestically, -with the clean heel rhythm and crackling fingers that marked him as the -outstanding gypsy dancer of his day and, quite possibly, of all time. -For accompaniment there was no symphony orchestra, only the hoarse -syncopation of a single guitar. Through half-parted lips shone the -gleaming ivory of small, perfectly matched teeth. - -For two successful seasons I toured Escudero across America, spreading a -new and thrilling concept of the dance of Spain to excited audiences, -audiences that reached a tremendous crescendo of fervor at the climax of -his _Farruca_. No theatrical _Farruca_ this, but a feline, animal dance -straight from the ancient Spanish gypsy camp. - -I had been forewarned to be on my guard. However, though his arrival in -America had been preceded by tall tales of his completely unmanageable -nature, Escudero proved to be one of the simplest, most tractable -artists I ever have handled. There was on his part an utter freedom from -the all too usual fits of “temperament,” a complete absence of the -hysterics sometimes indulged in--and all too often--by artists of lesser -talents. I happen to know, from other sources than Escudero, that he -took a dim view of American food, hotels, and the railway train -accommodations in the remoter parts of this great land. He never -complained to me. Escudero had his troubles with Carmita and Carmela, as -they vied with each other for position and his favors. But these -troubles never were brought to my official attention. Like the head of a -gypsy camp, he was the master. He ruled his little troupe and -distributed both favors and discipline. - -In 1935, Escudero made his last American appearance, when I presented -the Continental Revue at the Little Theatre, now the New York Times -Hall. Among those appearing with Escudero in this typical European -entertainment were the French _chanteuse_, Lucienne Boyer, Mrs. Hurok, -Lydia Chaliapine, Rafael, together with that comic genius, Nikita -Balieff, as master of ceremonies. - -Other and younger dancers of Spain continue to spread the gospel of the -Iberian dance. I venture to believe that, highly talented though many of -them are, I may say with incontrovertible truth, there has been only one -Escudero. - - -_B. A SWISS COMEDIAN_ - -In 1931, a slight, short Swiss girl named Trudi Schoop with the dual -talents of a dancer and a comedienne--a combination not too -common--organized a company in her native Switzerland. She named it the -Trudi Schoop Comic Ballet. - -The Paris _Archives Internationales de la Danse_, formed in 1931 by Rolf -de Maré, the Swedish dance patron who was responsible for the Swedish -Ballet in the early ’twenties, in 1932 sponsored the first International -Choreographic Competition in Paris. The prize-winning work in this -initial competition was won by Kurt Joos for his now famous _The Green -Table_. The second prize went to this hitherto almost unknown Trudi -Schoop, for her comic creation, _Fridolin_. - -In 1936, I brought her with her company for their first tour. Here again -was a fresh and new form of dance entertainment. Tiny, with a shock of -boyishly cut blonde hair, Trudi Schoop had the body of a young lad, and -a schoolboy’s face alternating impishness with the benign innocence of -the lad caught with sticky fingers and mouth streaked with jam. - -Her repertoire consisted of theatre pieces rather than ballets in the -accepted sense of the term. Trudi herself was a clown in the sense -Charles Chaplin is a clown. Her range was tremendous. With a company -trained by her in her own medium of gentle satire, she was an immediate -success. Her productions had no décor, and there was a minimum of -costume. But there was a maximum of effective mime, of wit, of satire. -Her brother, Paul Schoop, was her composer, conductor, accompanist. - -Trudi Schoop’s outstanding success was the prize-winning work, -_Fridolin_. Schoop was Fridolin; Fridolin was Schoop. Fridolin was an -innocent boy in a black Sunday suit and hat who stumbled and bumbled -through a world not necessarily the best of all possible, wringing peals -of laughter out of one catastrophe after another. - -Other almost equally happy and successful works in her repertoire -included _Hurray for Love_; _The Blonde Marie_, the tale of a servant -girl who eventually becomes an operatic diva; and _Want Ads_, giving the -background behind those particularly humorous items that still appear -regularly in the “Agony Column” of _The Times_ (London); you know, the -sort of announcement that reads: “Honourable Lady (middle fifties) seeks -acquaintance: object matrimony.” - -The critical fraternity dubbed her the “funniest girl in the world”; the -public adored her, and theatre folk made her their darling. Prior to the -outbreak of the war, I sent Trudi and her Swiss Comedians across -America. When, at last, war broke in all its fury, Schoop retired to her -native Switzerland and disbanded her company. She did not reassemble it -until 1946; and in 1947 I brought them over again for a long tour of the -United States and Canada. On this most recent of her tours, in addition -to her familiar repertoire, we made a departure by presenting an -evening-long work, in three acts, called _Barbara_. This was, so far as -I know, the first full-length work to be presented in dance form in many -cities and towns of the North American continent. Full length, of -course, in the sense that one work occupied a full evening for the -telling of its story. This is another form of dance pioneering in which -I am happy to have played a part. - -Today Trudi Schoop, who has retired from the stage, lives with her -sister in Hollywood. - - -_C. A HINDU DEITY_ - -Back in 1924, in London, I had watched a young Hindu dancer with Pavlova -in her ballet, _Hindu Wedding_. I was struck by the quality of his -movement and by the simple beauty of the dance of India. - -His name was Uday Shan-Kar. From Pavlova I learned that he was the son -of a Hindu producer of plays, that he had been trained by his father, -and had worked so successfully in collaboration with him in the -production of native Hindu mimed dramas that Pavlova had persuaded -Shan-Kar to return to London to assist her in the production of an -Indian ballet she had in mind, based on the Radna-Krishna legend. -Pavlova succeeded in persuading him to dance in the work as well. - -Later I saw him at the Paris Colonial Exposition, where, with his -company which he had organized in India, he made a tremendous -impression, subsequently achieving equal triumphs in England, -Austria-Hungary, Germany and Switzerland. At the Paris Exposition I saw -long Hindu dramas, running for hours, beautifully and sumptuously -produced, but played with the greatest leisure. Since I am committed to -candor in this account of my life in the dance, I must admit that I saw -only parts of these danced dramas, took them in relays, for I must -confess mine is a nature that cannot remain immobile for long stretches -at a time before a theatre form as unfamiliar as the Indian was to me -then. - -Gradually I came to know it, and I realized that in India formal mime -and dance are much more a part of the life of the people than they are -with us. With the Indian, dance is not only an entertainment, but a -highly stylised stage art; it plays an important part in religious -ritual; it is a genuinely communal experience. - -As night after night I watched parts of these symbolic dance dramas of -Hindu mythology, fascinated by them, I searched for a formula whereby -they might be made palatable and understandable to American audiences. I -was certain that, as they were being danced in Paris, to music strange -and unfamiliar to Western ears, going on for hours on end, the American -public was not ready for them, and would not accept them. - -I put the matter straight to Shan-Kar. I told him I wanted to bring him -and his art to America. He told me he wanted to come. Possessed of a -fine scholarship, a magnificent three-fold talent as producer, -choreographer, and dancer-musician, he also possessed to a remarkable -degree a sense of theatre showmanship and an intuition that enabled him -to grasp and quickly understand the space and time limitations of the -non-oriental theatre. - -Shan-Kar’s association with Pavlova, together with his own fine -intelligence, made his transition from the dance theatre of the Orient -to an adaptation of it acceptable to the West a comparatively simple -task for him. - -His success in America exceeded my most optimistic predictions. Until -the arrival of Shan-Kar, America had not been exposed to very much of -the dance of India. Twenty years before, the English woman known as -Roshanara had had a vogue in esoteric circles with her adaptations of -the dances of India and the East. On the other hand, the male dancing of -India was virtually unknown. As presented by Shan-Kar, this was revealed -in an expressive mime, with an emphasis on the enigmatic face, the flat -hand, using the upper part of the body as the chief medium of -expression, together with the unique use of the neck and shoulders, not -only for expression, but for accentuation of rhythm. New, also, to our -audiences were the spread knees, a type of movement exclusive to the -male Indian dancer. - -Here was an art and an artist that seemingly had none of the -conventional elements of a popular success. About him and his -presentations there was nothing spectacular, nothing stunning, nothing -exciting. Colour was there, to be sure; but the dancing and the general -tone of the entertainment was all of a piece, on a single level, -soothing, and with that elusive, almost indefinable quality: the -serenity of the East. - -Our associations, save for a brief period of mistrust on my part, have -always been pleasant. In addition to the original tour of 1932, I -brought him back in the season 1936-1937, and again in 1938-1939. The -war, of course, intervened, and I was unable to bring him again until -the season 1949-1950. - -At the outbreak of the war, through the benefaction of the Elmhirst -Foundation of Dartington Hall, England, an activity organized by the -former Dorothy Straight, Shan-Kar was enabled to found a school for the -dance and a center for research into Hindu lore, which he set up in -Benares. One outcome of this research center was the production of a -motion picture film dealing with this lore. - -After seeing many of the Eastern dances and dancers who have been -brought to Western Europe and the United States, I am convinced Uday -Shan-Kar is still the outstanding exponent. I hope to bring him again -for further tours, for I feel the more the American people are exposed -to his performances, the better we shall understand the fine and -delicate art of the East, and the East itself. - - -_D. A SPANISH LADY_ - -Although my taste for the dances of Spain had been whetted by my -association with Escudero, I had long wished to present to America the -artist whom I knew was the finest exponent of the feminine dance of the -Iberian peninsula. The task was by no means an easy one, for her first -American venture had been a fiasco. The lady from Spain was anything but -eager to risk another North American venture. - -Her name was Encarnacion Lopez. But it was as Argentinita that she was -known to and loved by all lovers of the dance of Spain, and recognized -by them as its outstanding interpreter of our time. Her story will bear -re-telling. My enthusiasm, my utmost admiration for the Spanish dance, -and for the great art of Argentinita is something that is not easy for -me to express. Diaghileff is known to have said with that unequivocation -for which he was noted: “There are two schools of dancing: the Classic -Ballet, which is the foundation of all ballet; and the Spanish school.” - -I would have put it differently by saying that Classic Ballet and the -Spanish school are the two types of dancing closest to my heart. - -My first view of Argentinita was at New York’s Majestic Theatre, in -1931, when she made her American _début_ in Lew Leslie’s ill-fated -_International Revue_. This performance, coincidentally enough, also -brought forth for his first American appearance, the British dancer, -Anton Dolin, who later also came under my management and who, like -Argentinita, was to become a close personal friend. For Dolin, the -opening night of the _International Revue_ was certainly no very -conspicuous beginning; for Argentinita, however, it was definitely a sad -one. This charming, quiet-voiced lady of Spain knew that she was a great -artist. Thrust into the hurly-burly of an ineptly produced Broadway -revue, where all was shouting and screaming, Argentinita continued her -quiet way and, artist that she was, avoided shouting and screaming her -demands. - -I was present at the opening performance. Although she was outwardly -calm, collected, restrained, I could sense the ordeal through which -Argentinita was going. In order to insure proper rhythmic support, she -had brought her own orchestra conductor from Spain. This gentleman was -able to speak little, if any, English. From where I sat I could see the -musicians poring over their parts and could hear them commenting to each -other about the music. Obviously the parts were in bad order and, -equally obviously, there had been little or no rehearsal; and, moreover, -it appeared the music was difficult to read at short notice. - -It was one of those strange ironies of fate that ruined something that, -properly handled, should and would have been a triumph. Yet it was not -only the orchestra and the music that were at fault. Argentinita herself -was shockingly presented, if she can honestly be said to have been -presented at all. She made her entrance as a Spanish peasant, in a -Spanish peasant costume which, though correct in every detail, was -devoid of any effect of what the average audience thinks is Spanish. She -was asked to dance in a peasant scene against a fantastic set purporting -to be Spanish, surrounded by a bevy of Broadway showgirls in marvellous -exotic costumes, also purporting to be Iberian, with trains yards in -length, which were no more authentically Spanish, or meant to be, than -were those of the tango danced by that well-known ball-room dancing team -of Moss and Fontana, who came on later in the same scene. - -Under such circumstances, success for Argentinita was out of the -question. So bitter was her disappointment that she left the cast and -the company two weeks after the opening. Later she gave a Sunday night -recital in her own repertoire, and although I set to work immediately to -persuade her that there was an audience for her in America, a great, -enthusiastic audience, such were her doubts that it took me six years to -do it. I knew she was a born star, for I recognized, shining in the -tawdry setting of this revue, a vivacious theatre personality. - -When Argentinita finally returned to America, in 1938, under my -management, and made her appearance on 13th November of that year, at -the Majestic Theatre, on the same stage where, seven years before, she -had so utterly and tragically failed, this time to enthusiastic cheers -and a highly approving press, she admitted I had been correct in my -judgment and in my insistence that she return. - -There is little point in recounting at this time her subsequent triumphs -all over America, for her hold on the public increased with each -appearance, and she is all too close to the memories of contemporary -dance lovers. I have said that Argentinita was a great artist. That will -bear repeating over and over again. Every gesture she made was feminine -and beautiful and, to my mind, she portrayed everything that was lovely -and most desirable. While her castanets may not actually have sung, they -spoke of many lovely things. Argentinita was a symbol of the womanhood -of Spain, warm, rich-blooded, wholesome, and I always felt certain there -were not enough hats in the world, least of all in Spain, to throw at -her feet to pay her the homage that was her due. - -Argentinita was born of Spanish parents in Buenos Aires, in 1898, and -taken back to Spain by them when she was four years old. At that early -age she commenced her training in the Spanish dance in all its varied -forms and styles, for she was equally at home in the Spanish Classic -dance as she was in the Gypsy or Flamenco dances. Those who saw the poem -she could make from _las Soleares_ of Andulasia, the basic rhythm of all -Spanish gypsy dances, know how she gave them the magic of a magic land; -or the gay _Alegrias_, performed in the sinuous manner, rich with -contrasts of slow, soft, and energetic movements, with the -characteristic stamping, stomping, sole-tapping, clapping, and -finger-snapping. It was in the _Alegrias_ that Argentinita let her fancy -roam with the slow tempo of the music. The European dance analysts had -noted that here, as also at other times and places, Argentinita danced -to please herself. When the tempo quickened, her mood changed to one of -gaiety and abandon. - -It is a difficult matter for me to pin down my memories of this splendid -artist and her work: _las Sevillianas_, the national dance of Seville, -danced by all classes and conditions of people, the Queen of Flamenco -dances; or the _Bulerias_, the most typical of all gypsy dances, light -and gay, the dance of the fiesta. - -Argentinita was not only a dancer. She was an actress of the first -order. She had been a member of Martinez Sierra’s interesting and vital -creative theatre in Madrid. She sang _Chansons Populaires_ in a -curiously throaty, plaintive little voice that could, nevertheless, fill -the largest theatre, despite the cameo-like quality of her art, fill -even the Metropolitan Opera House, with the sound, the color, the -atmosphere of Spain. - -Dancer of Spain that she was, her repertoire was not by any means -confined to the dance and music and life of the peoples of the Iberian -peninsula. She traveled far afield for her material, through the towns -and villages of South and Central America. Yet she was no mere copyist. -Works and ideas she found were transmuted into terms of the theatre by -means of a subtle alchemy. She had a deep knowledge of the entire -Spanish dance tradition, and knew it all, understood its wide historical -and regional changes. In her regional works, from Spanish folk to the -heart of the Andes, she kept the flavor of the original, but -personalized the dances. About them all was a fundamental honesty; -nothing was done for show. There were no heroics; no athleticism. In -addition to the _Alegrias_, _Sevillianas_, _Fandangos_, _Jotas_ of -Spain, the folk dances and folk songs of Brazil, Argentina, Peru, and -the remote places of Latin America and of its Indian villages were hers. -None who ever saw her do it can ever quite obliterate the memory of _El -Huayno_, implicit as it was with the stark dignity and nobility of the -Inca woman, and called by one critic, “the greatest dance of our -generation.” - -I have a particularly fond memory of _On the Route to Seville_, in which -a smoothie from the city outwitted and outdid the gypsies in larceny; -and also I remember fondly that nostalgic picture of the Madrid of 1900, -which she called, simply enough, _In Old Madrid_. - -As our association developed and continued, I was happy to be able to -extend the scope of her work and bring her from the solitary and -non-theatrical dance recital platform on which, one after the other, -from coast to coast, her journeys were a succession of triumphs, to the -stage of the Metropolitan Opera House in New York. Here, with her own -ensemble, chief among which was her exceptionally talented sister, Pilar -Lopez, I placed them as guests with one ballet company or another--with -Leonide Massine in Manuel de Falla’s _The Three-Cornered Hat_ and in -_Capriccio Espangnol_, by Rimsky-Korsakoff, on the choreography of which -she collaborated with Massine. - -In addition to these theatre adaptations of the dances of Spain, she -danced in her own dances, both solo and with Pilar Lopez. She trained -and developed excellent men, notably José Greco and Manolo Vargas. I am -especially happy in having been instrumental in bringing to the stage -two of her most interesting theatrical creations. One was the ballet she -staged to de Falla’s _El Amor Brujo_, which I produced for her. The -other was the Garcia Lorca _El Café de Chinitas_. Argentinita had been a -devoted friend of the martyred Loyalist poet, and to bring his work to -the American stage was a project close to her heart and a real labor of -love. Argentinita belonged to a close little circle of scholars, poets, -and composers, which included Martinez Sierra, Jacinto Benavente, and -the extraordinarily brilliant, genius-touched Garcia Lorca. - -The production of _El Café de Chinitas_ was made possible during a -Spanish festival I gave, one spring, at the Metropolitan Opera House. -For this festival I engaged José Iturbi to conduct a large orchestra -composed of members of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. Argentinita -had succeeded in interesting the Marquis de Cuevas in the project. For -_El Café de Chinitas_ the Marquis commissioned settings and costumes -from Salvador Dali. The result was one of the most effective and best -considered works for the theatre emanating from Dali’s brush. Dali, like -Argentinita, had been a friend of the martyred patriot-poet-composer. -His profounder emotions touched, Dali designed as effective a setting as -the Metropolitan Opera House has seen. The first of the two scenes was a -tremendously high wall on which hung literally hundreds of guitars, a -“graveyard of guitars,” as Dali phrased it; while the second scene, the -_Café de Chinitas_ itself, revealed the heroic torso of a female dancer -with her arms upstretched in what could be interpreted as an attitude of -the dance, or, if one chose, as a crucifixion. From where the hands held -the castanets there dripped blood, as though the hands had been pierced. -In terms of symbols, this was Dali’s representation of the crucifixion -of his country by hideous civil war. This was Argentinita’s last -production, and one of her happiest creations. - -A victim of cancer, Argentinita died in New York on 24th September, -1945. I was at the hospital at the end, together with my friend and -hers, Anton Dolin. Her doctors had long prescribed complete rest for her -and special care. But her life was the dance, and stop she could not. -Heroically she ignored her illness. If there was one thing about her -more conspicuous than another, it was her tiny, dainty, slippered feet. -No longer will they dart delicately into the lovely positions on the -floor. - -In Argentinita there was never either bitterness or unkindness to any -one. I have seen, at first hand, Argentinita’s encouragement and -unstinted help to others, and to lesser dancers. The success of others, -whether it was the artists in her own programmes, or elsewhere, was a -joy to her; nothing but the best was good enough. Her sister, Pilar -Lopez, who survives her and who today dances with great success in -Europe, carrying on her sister’s work, is a magnificent dancer. When -the two sisters danced together, everything that could be done to make -Pilar shine more brilliantly was done; and that, too, was the work of -Argentinita. Her loyalty to me was something of which I am very proud. - -Above all, it was the dignity and charm of the woman that played a great -part in the superb image of the artist who was known as Argentinita. - - -_E. A TERPSICHOREAN ANTHROPOLOGIST_ - -The mixture of dance and song and anthropology, with a firm accent on -sex, that struck a new note in the dance theatre, hailed from Chicago. -Her name is Katherine Dunham. She is a dynamo of energy; she is elusive; -she is unpredictable. She is a quite superb combination of exoticism and -intellectuality. - -Daughter of a French-Canadian and an American Negro, Katherine was born -in Joliet, Illinois, in 1914. Her theatrical experience has ranged from -art museums to night clubs, from Broadway to London’s West End, to the -_Théâtre des Champs Elysées_ in Paris, to European triumphs. Her early -life was spent and her first dancing was done in Chicago. She flashed -across the American entertainment world comet-like. More recently she -has confined her activities almost exclusively to England and Europe. - -I had no part in her beginnings. By the time I undertook to manage her, -she had assembled her own company of Negro dancers and had oscillated -between the rarefied atmosphere of women’s clubs and concert halls, on -the one hand, to night clubs and road houses, on the other. The -atmosphere of the latter was both smoky and rowdy. Katherine Dunham, I -suspect, is something of a split personality, so far as her art is -concerned. Possessor of a fine mind, it would seem to have been one -frequently in turmoil. On the one side, there is a keen intellectual -side to it, evidenced by both a Bachelor of Philosophy and a Master of -Arts degree from the University of Chicago, two Rosenwald Fellowships, -and a Rockefeller Fellowship. Her Masters degree is in anthropology. -These studies she pursued, as I have said, on the one hand. On the -other, she studied and practiced the dance with an equal fierceness. - -Her intellectual pursuits have been concerned, for the most part, with -anthropological researches into the Negro dance. Her first choreographic -venture was her collaboration with Ruth Page, in Chicago, in _La -Guiablesse_, a ballet on a Martinique theme, with a score based on -Martinique folk melodies by the American composer, William Grant Still, -a work with an all-Negro cast, seen both at the Century of Progress -Exhibition and the Chicago Opera House, in 1933. Dunham became active in -the Federal Dance Theatre, and its Chicago director. It was when she was -doing the dances for the International Ladies’ Garment Workers Union -depression-time revue, _Pins and Needles_, that she tried a Sunday dance -concert in New York at the Forty-eighth Street Theatre. So successful -was it that it was repeated every Sunday for three months. - -Turning to the theatre, she added acting and singing to dancing and -choreography, both on the stage and in films, appearing as both actress -and singer in _Cabin in the Sky_. She intrigued me, both by the quality -of her work, her exoticism, and her loyalty to her little troupe, for -the members of which she felt herself responsible. I first met her while -she was appearing at the Mark Hopkins Hotel, in San Francisco. She was -closing her engagement. She was down and out, trying to keep her group -together. I arranged for an audition and, after seeing her with her -group, undertook to see what could be done. Present with me at this -audition were Agnes de Mille, then in San Francisco rehearsing with the -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo what was to become her first choreographic -triumph, _Rodeo_, together with Alexandra Danilova and Frederick -Franklin. - -My idea in taking over her management was to try to help her transform -her concert pieces into revue material, suitable not only to the -country’s concert halls, but also to the theatre of Broadway and those -road theatres that were becoming increasingly unoccupied because of the -paucity of productions to keep them open. Certain purely theatrical -elements were added, including some singers, one of them being a Cuban -tenor; and, to supplement her native percussion players, a jazz group, -recruited from veterans of the famous “Dixieland Band.” - -We called the entertainment the _Tropical Revue_. The _Tropical Revue_ -was an immediate success at the Martin Beck Theatre in New York and, -thanks to some quick work, I was able to secure additional time at the -theatre and to extend the run to six weeks. This set up some sort of -record for an entertainment of the kind. As an entertainment form it -rested somewhere between revue and recital. Miss Dunham herself had -three outstanding numbers. These were her own impressions of what she -called different “hot” styles. These were responsible for some of the -heat that brought on the sizzling of the scenery to which the critics -referred. The first of her numbers was _Bahiana_, a limpid and languid -impression of Brazil; then _Shore Excursion_, a contrasting piece, fast, -hot, tough, and Cuban. The third was _Barrelhouse_, an old stand-by of -hers, straight out of Chicago’s Jungletown. - -_Tropical Revue_, during its two years under my management, was in an -almost perpetual state of flux. It was revised and revised, and revised -again. As the tours proceeded, Dunham did less and less dancing and more -and more impersonation. But while her “bumps” grew more discreet, there -was no lessening of the heat. Dunham’s choreography was best in -theatricalized West Indian and Latin American folk dances, some of which -approached full-scale ballets. The best of these, in my opinion, was -_L’Ag’ya_, a three-scened work, Martinique at core, the high light of -which was the “_ag’ya_,” a kicking dance. Here she was able to put to -excellent use authentic Afro-Caribbean steps, and in the overall -choreographic style, I would not feel it unfair to say that Dunham’s -style had been considerably influenced by the Chicago choreographer and -dancer, Ruth Page, with whom Dunham had collaborated early in her -career. - -It did not take me long to discover the public was more interested in -sizzling scenery than it was in anthropology, at least in the theatre. -Since the _Tropical Revue_ was fairly highly budgeted, it was necessary -for us, in order to attract the public, to emphasize sex over -anthropology. Dunham, with a shrewd eye to publicity, oscillated between -emphasis first on one and then on the other; her fingers were in -everything. In addition to running the company, dancing, singing, -revising, she lectured, carried on an unending correspondence by letter -and by wire, entertained lavishly, and added considerably, I am sure, to -the profits of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company. Columns -were written about her, and fulsome essays, a good deal of which was -balderdash. - -The handling of this tour presented its own special set of problems. Not -the least of these was the constantly recurring one of housing. We have -come a long way in the United States in disposing of Jim Crow; but there -is still a great deal to be done. Hotel accommodations for the artists -of the _Tropical Revue_ were a continual source of worry. One Pacific -Coast city was impossible. When, after days of fruitless searching, our -representative thought he had been able to install them in a neighboring -town, the Chinese owner of the hotel, on learning his guests were not -white, canceled the reservations. - -A certain midwestern city was another trouble spot, where, in one of the -city’s leading hostelries, the employees threatened to strike because of -the presence there of some of the principal artists. This was averted by -some quick work on the part of our staff. It should be noted, too, that -these unfortunate difficulties were all in cities north of what we hoped -was the non-existent Mason and Dixon Line. - -Miss Dunham, quite naturally, was disturbed and exercised by this -discrimination. In order to avoid this kind of unpleasantness, I had -tried to restrict the bookings to northern cities. However, it became -necessary to play an engagement in a southern border city. The results -were not happy. At the time of making the booking, I did not realize -that in this border state segregation was practiced in its Municipal -Auditorium. - -The house was sold out on the opening night. Owing to wartime -transportation difficulties, the company was late in arriving. Just -before the delayed curtain’s rise, Miss Dunham requested four seats for -some of her local friends. She was asked by the manager of the -Auditorium if they were colored. Miss Dunham replied that they were; -whereupon the manager offered to place chairs for them in the balcony, -since colored persons were not permitted in the orchestra stalls. Miss -Dunham protested, and objected to her friends being seated other than in -the orchestra. The fact was there were no seats available in the stalls, -since the house was sold out. However, had it not been for the -segregation rule, four extra chairs could have been placed in the boxes. - -The performance was enthusiastically received, with repeated curtain -calls at its close. Miss Dunham responded with a speech. She thanked the -audience for its appreciation and its warm response. Then, smarting -under the accumulated pressures of discrimination throughout the tour, -climaxed by the incident involving her friends, she paused, and added: -“This is good-bye. I shall not appear here again until people like me -can sit with people like you. Good-bye, and God bless you--and you may -need it.” - -While there was no overt hostile demonstration in the theatre, there -were those who felt Miss Dunham’s closing words implied a threat. The -press, ever alert to scent a scandal, demanded a statement about my -attitude on segregation in theatres, and to know if I approved of -artists under my management threatening audiences. It was one of those -rare times when, for some reason, I could not be reached by telephone. -Faced with the necessity of making some sort of statement, my -representative issued one to the effect that Mr. Hurok deplored and was -unalterably opposed to discrimination of any kind anywhere; but that, as -a law-abiding citizen, however much he deplored such regulations, he was -bound to conform to the laws and regulations obtaining in those -communities and theatres where he was contractually obliged to have his -attractions appear. But I have taken care never again to submit artists -to any possible indignities, if there is any way of avoiding it. - -I shall relate a last example of the sort of difficulties that arose on -this tour and, to my mind, it is the most stupid of them all, if there -can be said to be degrees of stupidity in such matters. - -In addition to the large orchestra of conventional instruments we -carried, Miss Dunham had four Guatemalan percussionists who dramatically -beat out the Caribbean rhythms on a wide assortment of gourds, tam-tams, -and other native drums, both with the orchestra and in several scenes on -the stage. - -It happened in a northern city. The head of the musicians’ union local -demanded to know if there were any “niggers” in our orchestra. My -representative, who feels very strongly about such matters and who -resents the term used by the local union president, replied that he did -not understand the question. All members of the orchestra, he said, were -members of the American Federation of Musicians, and had played as a -unit across the entire country, and such a question had never arisen. -The local union official thereupon tersely informed him the colored -players would not be permitted to play with the other musicians in the -orchestra pit in that city; if they attempted to do so, he would forbid -the white players to play. My representative, refusing to bow to such an -ukase, appealed to the head office of the Musicians’ Union, in -Chicago--only to be informed by them that, however much headquarters -disapproved of and deplored the situation, each union local was -autonomous in its local rulings and there was nothing they could do. - -Now comes the irony of the situation. My representative, on visiting the -theatre, saw that the stage boxes abutted the orchestra pit on the same -level with it “Why not place the percussionists there?” he thought. He -proposed this to the union official, and was informed that this would be -permitted, “so long as there is a railing between the white players and -the black.” - -It was only later, on thumbing through the local telephone directory, my -representative discovered there were two musicians’ locals there. One -of them was listed with the word “colored” after it, in parenthesis. - -Yes, we still have a long road ahead in the matter of fair employment -practices and equal opportunities for all. - -Having had a satisfying taste of the theatre, Miss Dunham eventually -turned to it as her exclusive medium of expression, and branched out -into a full-fledged theatre piece, with plot and all, called _Carib -Song_, which, transmuted into _Caribbean Rhapsody_, proved more -successful on the other side of the Atlantic than it did in the States. - -My association with Katherine Dunham seemed to satisfy, at least for the -moment, my taste for the exotic. I cannot say it added much to my -knowledge of anthropology, but it broadened my experience of human -nature. - -I presented Katherine Dunham and her company in Buenos Aires and -throughout South America during the season 1949-1950 when our -association came to an end. In her artistic career Katherine Dunham has -been greatly aided by the advice and by the practical help, in scenic -and costume design, of her husband, the talented American painter and -designer, John Pratt. - -While the scope of Katherine Dunham’s dancing and choreography may be -limited by her anthropological bias, she has a first-rate quality of -showmanship. She has studied, revived, rearranged for the theatre -primitive dances and creole dances, which are in that borderland that is -somewhere at the meeting point of African and Western culture. -Anthropology aside and for the moment forgotten, she is a striking -entertainer. - - -F. _AN AMERICAN GENIUS_ - -It may well be that, considered as an individual, the American Martha -Graham is one of the greatest dance celebrities in the United States. -There are those who contend she is the greatest. She is certainly the -most controversial. There seems to be no middle school of thought -concerning her. One of them bursts forth with an enthusiasm amounting -almost to idolatry. The other shouts its negatives quite as forcibly. - -My first love and my greatest interest is ballet. However, that love and -that interest do not obscure for me all other forms of dance, as my -managerial career shows. Having presented prophets and disciples of -what, for want of a more accurate term, is called the “free” dance, in -the persons of Isadora Duncan and her “children” and Mary Wigman, I -welcomed the opportunity to present the American High Priestess of the -contemporary dance. - -This product of a long line of New England forbears was a woman past -fifty when she came under my management. Yet she was at the height of -her powers, in the full bloom of the immense artistic accomplishment -that is hers, a dancer of amazing skill, a choreographer of striking -originality, an actress of tremendous power. - -The first and by far the most important prophet of the contemporary -dance, Martha Graham was originally trained in the Ruth St. Denis-Ted -Shawn tradition. A quarter of a century ago, however, she broke away -from that tradition and introduced into her works a quality of social -significance and protest. As I think over her choreographic product, it -seems to me that, in general--and this is a case where I must -generalize--her work has exhibited what may be described as two major -trends. One has been in the direction of fundamental social conflicts; -the other, towards psychological abstraction and a vague mysticism. - -About all her work is an austerity, stark and lean; yet this cold -austerity in her creations is always presented by means of a brilliant -technique and with an intense dramatic power. I made it a point for -years to see as many of her recital programmes as I could, and I was -never sure what I was going to see. Each time there seemed to me to be a -new style and a new technique. She was constantly experimenting and -while, often, the experiments did not quite come off, she always excited -me, if I did not always understand what she was trying to say. - -I have the greatest admiration for Martha Graham and for what she has -done. She has championed the cause of the American composer by having -works commissioned, while she has, at the same time, championed the -cause of free movement and originality in the dance. Yet, so violent, so -distorted, so obscure, and sometimes so oppressive do I find some of her -works that I am baffled. It is these qualities, coupled with the -complete introspection in which her works are steeped, that make it so -extremely difficult to attract the public in sufficient numbers to make -touring worthwhile or New York seasons financially possible without some -sort of subsidy. I shall have something to say, later on in this book, -on this whole question of subsidy of the arts. Meanwhile, Martha Graham -has chosen a lonely road, and the introspectiveness of her work does not -make it any less so. The more’s the pity, for here is a great artist of -the first rank. - -Martha Graham completed my triptych of modern dancers, commencing with -Isadora Duncan and continuing with Mary Wigman as its center piece. In -many respects, Martha Graham is by far the greatest of the three; yet, -to me, she is lacking in a quality that made the dances of Isadora -Duncan so compelling. It is difficult to define that quality. -Negatively, it may be that it is this very introspection. Perhaps it is -that Martha Graham is no modernist at all. - -Modernism in dance, I feel, has become very provincial, for it would -seem that every one and her sister is a modernist. Isadora was a -modernist. Fokine was a modernist. Mary Wigman was a modernist. Today, -we have Balanchine and Robbins, modernists. Scratch a choreographer, -scrape a dancer ever so lightly, and you will find a modernist. It is -all very, very provincial. - -Much of what is to me the real beauty of the dance--the lyric line, the -unbroken phrase, the sequential pattern of the dance itself--has, in the -name of modernism, been chopped up and broken. - -Martha Graham, of all the practitioners of the “free” dance, troubles me -least in this respect. Many of her works look like ballets. Yet, at the -same time, she disturbs me; never soothes me; and, since I have -dedicated myself in this book to candor, I shall admit I can take my -dance without too much over-intellectualization. Yet, in retrospect, I -find there are few ballets that have so much concentrated excitement as -Martha Graham’s _Deaths and Entrances_. - -The choreography, the dancing, the art of Martha Graham are greatly -appreciated by a devoted but limited public. The lamentable thing about -it to me is that it so limited. She has chosen the road of the solitary -and lonely experimenter. Martha Graham, of all the dancers I have known, -is, I believe, the most single-purposed, the most fanatical in her -devotion to an idea and an ideal. About her and everything she does is -an extraordinary integrity, a consummate honesty. Generous to a fault, -Martha Graham always has something good to say about the work of others, -and she possesses a keen appreciation of all forms of the dance. The -high position she so indisputably holds has been attained, as I happen -to know, only through great privation and hardship, often in the face of -cruel and harsh ridicule. Her remarkable technique could only have been -acquired at the expense of sheer physical exhaustion. In the history of -the dance her name will ever remain at the head of the pioneers. - - - - -5. Three Ladies of the Maryinsky--And -Others - - -Up to now I have dealt with those artists of the dance whose forms of -dance expression were either modern, free, or exotic. All had been, at -one time or another, under my management. The rest of this candid avowal -will be devoted to that form of theatrical dance known as ballet. Since -I regard ballet as the most satisfactory and satisfying form of -civilized entertainment, ballet will occupy the major portion of the -book. Nearly two full decades of my career as impresario have been -devoted to it. - -For a long time I have been alternately irritated and bored by an almost -endless stream of gossip about ballet, and by that outpouring of -frequently cheap and sometimes incredible nonsense that has been -published about ballet and its artists. Surprisingly, perhaps, -comparatively little of this has come from press agents; the press -agents have, in the main--exceptions only going to prove the rule, in -this case--been ladies and gentlemen of taste and discretion, and they -have publicized ballet legitimately as the great art it is, and, at the -same time, have given of their talents to help make it the highly -popular art it is. - -But there has been a plethora of tripe in the public prints about -ballet, supplied by hacks, blind hero-worshippers, self-abasing -sycophants, and producers. The last are quite as vocal as any of the -others. They are not, of course, “producers.” They call themselves -either “managers” or “managing-directors.” I shall have something to -say, later on, about this phase of their work. They talk, give -interviews, often of quite incredible stupidity; and, instead of being -managers, are masters of mismanagement. All are, in one degree or -another, would-be Diaghileffs. They all suffer from a serious disease: a -sort of chronic Diaghileffitis, which is spasmodically acute. If -anything I can say or point out in this book can help, as it were, to -add a third dimension to the rather flat pictures of ballet companies -and ballet personalities, creative, interpretive, executive, that have -been offered to the public, I shall be glad. For ballet is a great art, -and my last thought would be to wish to denigrate, debunk, or disparage -any one. - -While “the whole truth” cannot always be told for reasons that should be -obvious, I shall try to tell “nothing but the truth.” - -The ballet we have today, however far afield it may wander in its -experimentation, in its “novelties,” stems from a profoundly classical -base. That base, emerging from Italy and France, found its full -flowering in the Imperial Theatres of Russia. - -I cannot go on with my story of my experiences with ballet on the -American continent without paying a passing tribute to the Ladies of the -Maryinsky (and some of the Gentlemen, as well), who exemplified the -Russian School of Ballet at its best; many of them are carrying on in -their own schools, and passing on their great knowledge to the youth of -the second half of the twentieth century, in whose hands the future of -ballet lies. - -I should like to do honor to many ladies of the Maryinsky. To do so -would mean an overly long list of names, many of which would mean little -to a generation whose knowledge of dancers does not go back much further -than Danilova. It would mean a considerable portion of the graduating -classes of the Russian Imperial School of the Ballet: that School, -dating from 1738, whose code was monastic, whose discipline was strict, -whose training the finest imaginable. Through this school and from it -came the ladies and gentlemen of the Maryinsky, those figures that gave -ballet its finest flowering on the stages of the Maryinsky Theatre in -Petrograd and the Grand Theatre in Moscow. - -Anna Pavlova, Mathilde Kchessinska, Olga Preobrajenska, Lubov Egorova, -Tamara Karsavina, Lydia Kyasht, Lydia Lopokova. There were men, too: -Michel Fokine, Mikhail Mordkin, Vaslav Nijinsky, Adolph Bolm, Theodore -Kosloff, Alexandre Volinine, Laurent Novikoff. The catalogue would be -too long, if continued. No slight is intended. The turn of the century, -or thereabouts, saw most of the above named in the full flush of their -performing abilities. - -What has become of them? Six of the seven ladies are still very much -alive, each making a valued contribution to ballet today. The mortality -rate among the men has been heavier; only three of the seven men are now -alive; yet these three are actively engaged in that most necessary and -fundamental department of ballet: teaching. - -Because the present has its basic roots in the past, and because the -future must emerge from the present, let me, in honoring those -outstanding representatives of the recent past, pause for a moment to -sketch their achievements and contributions. - - -_MATHILDE KCHESSINSKA_ - -In the early twentieth century hierarchy of Russian Ballet, Mathilde -Kchessinska was the undisputed queen, a tsarina whose slightest wish -commanded compliance. She was a symbol of a period. - -Mathilde Kchessinska was born in 1872, the daughter of a famous Polish -character dancer, Felix Kchessinsky. A superb technician, according to -all to whom I have talked about her, and to the historians of the time, -she is credited with having been the first Russian to learn the highly -applauded (by audiences) trick of those dazzling multiple turns called -_fouettés_, guaranteed to bring the house down and, sometimes today, -even when poorly done. In addition to a supreme technique, she is said -to have been a magnificent actress, both “on” and “off.” - -Hers was an exalted position in Russia. Her personal social life gave -her a power she was able to exercise in high places and a personal -fortune which permitted her to give rein to a waywardness and wilfulness -that did not always coincide with the strict disciplinarian standards of -the Imperial Ballet. - -Although she was able to control the destinies of the Maryinsky Theatre, -to hold undisputed sway there, to have everything her own way, all that -most people today know about her is that she was fond of gambling, that -the Grand Dukes built her a Palace in Petrograd, and that Lenin made -speeches to the mob from its balcony during the Revolution. - -More rot has been told and written about her by those with more -imagination than love of accuracy, than about almost any other person -connected with ballet, not excepting Serge Diaghileff. In yarn upon yarn -she has been identified with one sensational escapade and affair after -another. None of these, so far as I know, she has ever troubled to -contradict. - -Mathilde Kchessinska was the first Russian dancer to win supremacy for -the native Russian artist over their Italian guests. An artist in life -as well as on the stage, today, at eighty, the Princess -Krassinska-Romanovska, the morganatic wife of Grand Duke André of -Russia, she still teaches daily at her studio in Paris, contributing to -ballet from the fund of her vast experience and knowledge. Many fine -dancers have emerged from her hands, but perhaps the pupil of whom she -is the proudest is Tatiana Riabouchinska. - - -_OLGA PREOBRAJENSKA_ - -Sharing the rank of _ballerina assoluta_ with Kchessinska at the -Maryinsky Theatre was Olga Preobrajenska. Preobrajenska’s career -paralleled that of the Princess Krassinska-Romanovska; she was born in -1871, and graduated from the Imperial School in the class ahead of the -Princess. Yet, in many respects, they were as unlike as it is possible -for two females to differ. - -Kchessinka was always _chic_, noted for her striking beauty, expressive -arms and wrists, a beautifully poised head, an indescribably infectious -smile. She was a social queen who used her gifts and her powers for all -they were worth. It was a question in the minds of many whether -Kchessinska’s private life was more important than her professional -career. The gods had not seen fit to smile too graciously on -Preobrajenska in the matter of face and figure. Her tremendous success -in a theatre where, at the time, beauty of form was regarded nearly as -highly as technique, may be said to have been a triumph of mind over -matter. Despite these handicaps or, perhaps, because of them, she -succeeded in working out her own distinctive style and bearing. - -Free from any Court intriguing, Olga Preobrajenska was a serious-minded -and noble person, a figure that reflected her own nobility of mind on -ballet itself. Whereas Kchessinska’s career was, for the most part, a -rose-strewn path, Preobrajenska’s road was rocky. Her climb from a -_corps de ballet_ dancer to the heights was no overnight journey. It -was one that took a good deal of courage, an exhibition of fortitude -that happily led to a richly deserved victory. Blessed with a dogged -perseverance, a divine thirst for knowledge, coupled with a desire ever -to improve, she forced herself ahead. She danced not only in every -ballet, but in nearly every opera in the repertoire that had dances. In -her quarter of a century on the Imperial stage she appeared more than -seven hundred times. It was close on to midnight when her professional -work was done for the day; then she went to the great teacher, Maestro -Enrico Cecchetti, for a private lesson, which lasted far into the early -hours of the morning. Hers was a life devoted to work. For the social -whirl she had neither time nor interest. - -These qualities, linked with her fine personal courage and gentleness, -undoubtedly account for that unbounded admiration and respect in which -she is held by her colleagues. - -Preobrajenska remained in Russia after the revolution, teaching at the -Soviet State School of Ballet from 1917 through 1921. In 1922, she -relinquished her post, left Russia and settled in Paris. Today, she -maintains one of the world’s most noteworthy ballet schools, still -teaching daily, passing on to the present generation of dancers -something of herself so that, though dancers die, dancing may live. - -It was during her teaching tenure at the Soviet State School of Ballet, -the continuing successor in unbroken line and tradition to the Imperial -Ballet School from the eighteenth century, that a young man named Georgi -Balanchivadze came into her ken. Georgi Balanchivadze is better known -throughout the world of the dance today as George Balanchine. In the -long line of pupils who have passed through Preobrajenska’s famous Paris -school, there is space only to mention two of whom she is very proud: -Irina Baronova and Tamara Toumanova. - -Frequently, I have had great pleasure in attending some of -Preobrajenska’s classes in Paris, and I am proud to know her. It was -during my European visit in the summer of 1950 that I happened to be at -La Scala, Milan, when Preobrajenska was watching a class being given -there by the Austrian ballet-mistress, Margaret Wallman. This was at the -time of the visit to Milan of Galina Ulanova, the greatest lyric -ballerina of the Soviet Union. The meeting of Ulanova and Preobrajenska, -two great figures of Russian ballet, forty-one years apart in age, but -with the great common bond of the classical dance, each the recipient -of the highest honors a government can pay an artist, was, in its way, -historic. - -I arranged to have photographs taken of the event, a meeting that was -very touching. Ulanova had come to see a class as well. The two great -artists embraced. Ulanova was deeply moved. Their conversation was -general. Unfortunately, there was little time, for the Soviet Consular -officials who accompanied Ulanova were not eager for her to have too -long a conversation. - -At eighty-two, Preobrajenska has no superior as a teacher. At her prime, -she was a dancer of wit and elegance, excelling in mimicry and the -humorous. With her colleagues of that epoch, as with Ulanova, she -nevertheless had one outstanding quality in common: a sound classicism. - - -_LUBOV EGOROVA_ - -Less exalted in the hierarchy of the Russian Imperial Ballet, since she -never attained the _assoluta_ distinction there, but, nevertheless, a -very important figure in ballet, is Lubov Egorova (Princess -Troubetzkoy). - -Born some nine years later than Preobrajenska and eight later than -Kchessinska, Egorova, who was merely a _ballerina_ at the Maryinsky, was -one of the first great Russian dancers to leave Russia; she was a member -of the exploring group that made a Western European tour during a summer -holiday from the Maryinsky, in 1908--perhaps the first time that Russian -Ballet was seen outside the country. - -In 1917, Egorova left Russia for good and, joining the Diaghileff -Ballet, appeared in London, in 1921, dancing the role of Princess Aurora -in the lavish, if ill-starred, revival of Tchaikowsky’s _The Sleeping -Beauty_, or, as Diaghileff called his Benois production, _The Sleeping -Princess_. As a matter of fact, she was one of three Auroras, -alternating the role with two other great ladies of the ballet, Olga -Spessivtseva and Vera Trefilova. - -In 1923, Egorova founded her own school in Paris, and has been teaching -there continuously since that time. Many famous dancers have emerged -from that school, dancers of all nationalities, carrying the gospel to -their own lands. - -The basic method of ballet training has altered little. Since the last -war, there have been some new developments in teaching methods. Although -the individual methods of these three ladies from the Maryinsky may -have differed in detail, they have all had the same solid base, and from -these schools have come not only the dancers of today, but the teachers -of the future. - - -_TAMARA KARSAVINA_ - -The Russian _emigré_ dancers would seem to have distributed themselves -fairly equally between Paris and London, (excluding, of course, those -who have made the States their permanent home). While the three -Maryinsky ladies I have discussed became Parisian fixtures, another trio -made London their abiding place. - -Most important of the London trio was Tamara Karsavina, who combined in -her own person the attributes of a great dancer, a great beauty, a great -actress, a great artist, and a great woman. John van Druten, the noted -playwright, sums her up thus: “I can tell you that Tamara Karsavina was -the greatest actress and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, the -incarnation of Shakespeare’s ‘wightly wanton with a velvet brow, with -two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes,’ and that I wrote sonnets to -her when I was twenty.” - -Born in 1885, the daughter of a famous Russian dancer and teacher, -Platon Karsavin, Karsavina, unlike the Ladies of the Maryinsky who have -made Paris their home, was ready for change: that change in ballet that -is sometimes called the Romantic Revolution. She was receptive to new -ideas, and became identified with Fokine and Diaghileff and their -reforms in ballet style. - -Diaghileff had to have a _ballerina_ for his company, and it soon became -obvious to both Fokine and Diaghileff that Pavlova would not fit into -their conception of things balletic. The modest, unassuming, charming, -gracious, beautiful and enchanting Karsavina took over the _ballerina_ -roles of the Diaghileff Company. It was in 1910 that Karsavina came into -her own with the creation of the title role in _The Firebird_, and a -revival of _Giselle_. Her success was tremendous. The shy, modest Tamara -Karsavina became _La Karsavina_; without the guarantee of her presence -in the cast, Diaghileff was for many years unable to secure a contract -in numerous cities, including London. - -All through her career, a career that brought her unheard of success, -adulation, worship, Karsavina remained a sweet, simple, unspoiled lady. - -She was not only the toast of Europe for her work with the Diaghileff -Company, but she returned frequently to the Maryinsky, dashing back and -forth between Petrograd and Western Europe. An aversion to sea travel in -wartime prevented her visiting America with the Diaghileff Company on -either of its American tours. She did, however, make a brief American -concert tour in 1925, partnered by Pierre Vladimiroff. Neither the -conditions nor the circumstances of this visit were to her advantage, -and Americans were thus prevented from seeing Karsavina at anything like -her best. - -Karsavina has painted her own picture more strikingly than anyone else -can; and has painted it in a book that is a splendid work of art. It is -called _Theatre Street_. Tamara Karsavina’s _Theatre Street_ is a book -and a portrait, a picture of a person and of an era that is, at the same -time, a shining classic of the theatrical dance. But not only does it -tell the story of her own career so strikingly that it would be -presumptuous of me to expand on her career in these pages, but she shows -us pictures of Russian life, of childhood in Russia that take rank with -any ever written. - -After the dissolution of a previous Russian marriage, Karsavina, in -1917, married a British diplomat, Henry Bruce, who died in 1950. Her -son, by this marriage, is an actor and director in the British theatre. -Karsavina herself lives quietly and graciously in London, but by no -means inactively. She is a rock of strength to British ballet, through -her interest and inspiration. A great lady as well as a great artist, it -would give me great pleasure to be able to present her across the -American continent in a lecture tour, in the course of which -illuminating dissertation she would elucidate, as no one I have ever -seen or heard, the important and expressive art of mime. - - -_LYDIA KYASHT_ - -Classmate of Karsavina at the Imperial School, and born in the same -year, is Lydia Kyasht, who was the first Russian _ballerina_ to become a -permanent fixture in London. - -Kyasht’s arrival in the British capital dates back to 1908, the year she -became a leading soloist at the Maryinsky Theatre. There were mixed -motives for her emigration to England. There were, it appears, intrigues -of some sort at the Maryinsky; there was also a substantial monetary -offer from the London music hall, the Empire, where, for years, ballet -was juxtaposed with the rough-and-tumble of music hall comedians, and -where Adeline Genée had reigned as queen of English ballet for a decade. -Kyasht’s Russian salary was approximately thirty-five dollars a month. -The London offer was for approximately two hundred dollars a week. - -Her first appearance at the Empire, in Leicester Square, long the home -of such ballet as London had at that time, was under her own name as -Lydia Kyaksht. When the Empire’s manager in dismay inquired: “How _can_ -one pronounce a name like that?” he welcomed the suggestion that the -pronunciation would be made easier for British tongues if the second “k” -were dropped. So it became Kyasht, and Kyasht it has remained. - -Kyasht was the first Russian dancer to win a following in London, and in -her first appearances there she was partnered by Adolph Bolm, later to -be identified with Diaghileff and still later with ballet development in -the United States. - -The Empire ballets were, for the most part, of a very special type of -corn. Kyasht appeared in, among others, a little something called _The -Water Nymph_ and in another something charmingly titled _First Love_, -with my old friend and Anna Pavlova’s long-time partner, Alexandre -Volinine, as her chief support. There was also a whimsy called _The -Reaper’s Dream_, in which Kyasht appeared as the “Spirit of the -Wheatsheaf,” seen and pursued in his dream by a reaper, the while the -_corps de ballet_, costumed as an autumn wheatfield, watched and -wondered. - -Most important, however, was Kyasht’s appearance in the first English -presentation, on 18th May, 1911, of Delibes’ _Sylvia_. _Sylvia_, one of -the happiest of French ballets, had had to wait thirty-five years to -reach London, although the music had long been familiar there. Even -then, London saw a version of a full-length, three-act work, which, for -the occasion, had been cut and compressed into a single act. It took -forty-one more years for the uncut, full-length work to be done in -London, with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet production, staged by Frederick -Ashton, at Covent Garden, in the Royal Opera House, on 3rd of September, -1952. The original British Sylvia, Lydia Kyasht, was, by this date, a -member of the teaching staff at the famous Sadler’s Wells School. - -Lydia Kyasht remained at the Empire for five years. At the conclusion of -her long engagement, she sailed for New York to appear as the Blue Bird -in a Shubert Winter Garden show, _The Whirl of the World_, with Serge -Litavkin as her partner; Litavkin later committed suicide in London, as -the result of an unhappy love affair (not with Lydia Kyasht). - -Kyasht’s American venture brought her neither fame nor glory. In the -first place, a Shubert Winter Garden spectacle, in 1913, was not a -setting for the classical technique of Ballet; then, for better or -worse, Kyasht was stricken ill with typhoid fever, a mischance that -automatically terminated her contract. But before she became ill, still -on the unhappier side, was the Shubertian insistence that Kyasht should -be taught and that she should perfect herself in the 1913 edition of -“swing,” the “Turkey Trot.” Such was the uninformed and uncaring mind of -your average Broadway manager, that he wanted to combine the delicacy of -the “Turkey Trot,” of unhallowed memory, with what he elegantly -characterized as “acrobatic novelties.” - -But Kyasht was saved from this humiliation by the serious fever attack -and returned to London, where she made her permanent home and where, for -the most part, she devoted herself to teaching. As a teacher able to -impart that finish and refinement that is so essential a part of a -dancer’s equipment, she has had a marked success. - -Today, she is, as I have said, active in the teaching of ballet -department at that splendid academy, the Sadler’s Wells School, about -which I shall have something to say later on. - - -_LYDIA LOPOKOVA_ - -The third of the Maryinsky ladies to settle in England, to whom I cannot -fail to pay tribute, is Lydia Lopokova. - -Lopokova is the youngest of the three, having been born in 1891. Her -graduation from the Imperial School was so close to the great changes -that took place in Russian ballet, that she had been at the Maryinsky -Theatre only a few months when, as a pupil of Fokine, she was invited to -join the Diaghileff Ballet, at that time at the height of its success in -its second Paris season. - -Writing of Lopokova’s early days at the Imperial School, Karsavina says -in _Theatre Street_: “Out of the group of small pupils given now into my -care was little Lopokova. The extreme emphasis she put into her -movements was comic to watch in the tiny child with the face of an -earnest cherub. Whether she danced or talked, her whole frame quivered -with excitement; she bubbled all over. Her personality was manifest from -the first, and very lovable.” - -Of her arrival to join the Diaghileff Company in Paris, Karsavina says: -“Young Lopokova danced this season; it was altogether her first season -abroad. As she was stepping out of the railway carriage, emotion -overcame her. She fainted right away on the piles of luggage. It had -been her dream to be in Paris, she told the alarmed Bakst who rendered -first aid; the lovely sight (of the Gare du Nord) was too much for her. -A mere child, she reminded me again of the tiny earnest pupil when, in -the demure costume of _Sylphides_, she ecstatically and swiftly ran on -her toes.” - -Lopokova’s rise to high position with the Diaghileff Ballet in England -and Europe was rapid. But she was bored by success. There were new -fields to be conquered, and off she went to New York, in the summer of -1911, to join the first “Russian Ballet” to be seen on Broadway. A -commercial venture hastily rushed into the ill-suited Winter Garden, -with the obvious purpose of getting ahead of the impending Diaghileff -invasion of America, due at a later date. The popular American -vaudeville performer, Gertrude Hoffman, temporarily turned manager, -sparked this “Saison de Ballets Russes.” - -Hoffman, in conjunction with a Broadway management, imported nearly a -hundred dancers, with Lydia Lopokova as the foremost; others included -the brothers Kosloff, Theodore and Alexis, who remained permanently in -the United States; my friend, Alexandre Volinine; and Alexander -Bulgakoff. A word about the 1911 “Saison de Ballets Russes” may not be -amiss. The ethics of the entire venture were, to say the least, open to -question. Among the works presented were _Schéhérazade_, _Cléopâtre_, -and _Sylphides_--all taken without permission from the Diaghileff -repertoire, and with no credit (and certainly no cash) given to Michel -Fokine, their creator. All works were restaged from memory by Theodore -Kosloff, and with interpolations by Gertrude Hoffman. The outstanding -success of the whole affair was Lydia Lopokova. - -When, after an unsuccessful financial tour outside New York, Lopokova -and Volinine left the company, the “Saison de Ballets Russes” fell to -pieces. - -Venturing still farther afield, Lopokova joined Mikhail Mordkin’s -company briefly; then, remaining in America for five years, she toyed -seriously with the legitimate theatre, and made her first appearance as -an actress (in English) with that pioneer group, the Washington Square -Players (from which evolved The Theatre Guild), at the Bandbox Theatre, -in East 57th Street, in New York, and later in a Percy Mackaye piece -called _The Antic_, under the direction of Harrison Grey Fiske. - -Then the Diaghileff Ballet came to America; came, moreover, badly in -need of Lopokova; came without Karsavina, without any woman star; came -badly crippled. In New York, and free, was Lydia Lopokova. It was Lydia -Lopokova who was the _ballerina_ of the company through the two American -tours. It was Lydia Lopokova who was the company’s bright and shining -individual success. - -She returned to Europe with Diaghileff and was his _ballerina_ from 1917 -to 1919, earning for herself in London a popularity second to none. But, -bored again by success, she was suddenly off again to America. This -time, the venture was even less noteworthy, for it was a Shubert musical -comedy--and a rather dismal failure. “I was a flop,” was Lopokova’s -comment, “and thoroughly deserved it.” In 1921, she returned to -Diaghileff, and danced the Lilac Fairy in his tremendous revival of _The -Sleeping Princess_. During the following years, up to the Diaghileff -Ballet’s final season, Lopokova was in and out of the company, appearing -as a guest artist in the later days. - -After a short and unhappy marriage with one of Diaghileff’s secretaries -had been dissolved, Lopokova became Mrs. J. Maynard Keynes, the wife of -the brilliant and distinguished English economist, art patron, friend of -ballet and inspirer of the British Arts Council. On Keynes’s elevation -to the peerage, Lopokova, of course, became Lady Keynes. - -Invariably quick in wit, impulsive, possessor of a genuine sense of -humor, Lady Keynes remains eager, keen for experiment, restless, impish, -and still puckish, always ready to lend her enthusiastic support to -ventures and ideas in which she believes. - - -_MARIE RAMBERT_ - -One of the most potent forces in the development of ballet in England is -Marie Rambert. She was a pioneer in British ballet. She still has much -to give. - -Marie Rambert--unlike her London colleagues: Karsavina, Kyasht, and -Lopokova--was not a Maryinsky lady. Born Miriam Rambach, in Poland, she -was a disciple of Emile Jacques Dalcroze, and was recommended to -Diaghileff by her teacher as an instructor in the Dalcroze type of -rhythmic movement. The Russians who made up the Diaghileff Company were -not impressed either by the Dalcroze method or its youthful teacher. -They rebelled against her, taunted her, called her “Rhythmitchika,” and -left her alone. There was one exception, however. That exception was -Vaslav Nijinsky, who was considerably influenced by his studies with -Rambert, an influence that was made apparent in three of his -choreographic works: _Sacre du Printemps_, _Afternoon of a Faun_ (this, -incidentally, the first to show the influence), and _Jeux_. - -Despite the attitude of the Russian dancers, it was her contacts with -the Diaghileff Ballet that aroused Rambert’s interest in ballet. She had -had early dancing lessons in the Russian State School in Warsaw; now she -became a pupil of Enrico Cecchetti. In 1920, she established her own -ballet school in the Notting Hill Gate section of London, and it was not -long after that the Ballet Club, a combination of ballet company with -the school, was founded, an organization that became England’s first -permanent ballet company. - -Rambert’s influence on ballet in England has been widespread. When, -after the death of Diaghileff, the Camargo Society was formed in London, -along with Ninette de Valois, Lydia Lopokova, J. Maynard Keynes, and -Arnold L. Haskell, Rambert was a prime mover. - -In her school and at the Ballet Club, she set herself the task of -developing English dancers for English ballet. From her school have come -very many of the young dancers and, even more important, many of the -young choreographers who are making ballet history today. To mention but -a few: Frederick Ashton, Harold Turner, Antony Tudor, Hugh Laing, Walter -Gore, Frank Staff, William Chappell, among the men; Peggy van Praagh, -Pearl Argyle, Andrée Howard, Diana Could, Sally Gilmour, among the -women. - -Rambert is married to that poet of the English theatre, Ashley Dukes. -Twenty-odd years ago they pooled their individual passions--hers for -building dancers, his for building theatres and class-rooms--and built -and remodelled a hall into a simple, little theatre, which they -christened the Mercury, in Ladbroke Road. Its auditorium is as tiny as -its stage. Two leaps will suffice to cross it. The orchestra consisted -of a single pianist. On occasion a gramophone assisted. Everything had -to be simple. Everything had to be inexpensive. The financial -difficulties were enormous. Here the early masterpieces of Ashton and -Tudor were created. Here great work was done, and ballets brought to -life in collaboration between artists in ferment. - -I cannot do better than to quote the splendid tribute of my friend, -“Freddy” Ashton, when he says: “Hers is a deeply etched character, a -potent bitter-sweet mixture; she can sting the lazy into activity, make -the rigid mobile and energise the most lethargic.... She has the unique -gift of awakening creative ability in artists. Not only myself, but -Andrée Howard, Antony Tudor, Walter Gore and Frank Staff felt our -impulse for choreography strengthen and become irresistible under her -wise and patient guidance. Even those who were not her pupils or -directly in her care--the designers who worked with her, William -Chappell, Sophie Fedorovitch, Nadia Benois, Hugh Stevenson, to name only -a few--all felt the impact of her singular personality.” - -The work Marie Rambert did with the Ballet Club and the Ballet Rambert -in their days at the Mercury Theatre was of incalculable value. The -company continues today but its function is somewhat different. -Originally the Ballet Rambert was a place where young choreographers -could try out their ideas, could make brave and bold experiments. During -my most recent visit to London, in the summer of 1953, I was able to see -some of her more recent work on the larger stage of the Sadler’s Wells -Theatre. I was profoundly impressed. Outstanding among the works I saw -were an unusually fine performance of Fokine’s immortal _Les Sylphides_, -which has been continuously in her repertoire since 1930; _Movimientos_, -a work out of the London Ballet Workshop in 1952, with choreography and -music by the young Michael Charnley, with scenery by Douglas Smith and -costumes by Tom Lingwood; Frederick Ashton’s exquisite _Les Masques_, an -old tale set to a delicate score by Francis Poulenc, with scenery and -costumes by the late and lamented Sophie Fedorovitch; and Walter Gore’s -fine _Winter Night_, to a Rachmaninoff score, with scenery and costumes -by Kenneth Rowell. There was also an unusually excellent production of -_Giselle_, which first entered her repertoire in its full-length form in -1946, with Hugh Stevenson settings and costumes. - -While there was a period when Rambert seemed to be less interested in -ballets than in dancers, and the present organization would appear to be -best described as one where young dancers may be tested and proven, yet -Rambert alumnae and alumni are to be found in all the leading British -ballet companies. - -In the Coronation Honours List in 1953, Marie Rambert was awarded the -distinction of Companion of the British Empire. - - -_MIKHAIL MORDKIN_ - -Although he was under my management for only a brief time, I must, I -feel, make passing reference to Mikhail Mordkin as one of the Russian -_emigré_ artists who have been identified with ballet in America. His -contributions were neither profound nor considerable; but they should be -assessed and evaluated. - -Mordkin, born in Russia, in 1881, was a product of the Moscow School, -and eventually became a leading figure and one-time ballet-master of the -Bolshoi Theatre. - -So far as America is concerned, I sometimes like to think his greatest -contribution was his masculinity. Before he first arrived here in -support of Anna Pavlova in her initial American appearance, the average -native was inclined to take a very dim view indeed of a male dancer. -Mordkin’s athleticism and obvious virility were noted on every side. - -Strange combination of classical dancer, athlete, and clown, Mordkin’s -temperament was such that he experienced difficulty throughout his -career in adjusting himself to conditions and to people. He broke with -the Imperial Ballet; broke with Diaghileff; split with Pavlova. These -make-and-break associations could be extended almost indefinitely. - -For the record, I should mention that, following upon his split with -Pavlova, he had a brief American tour with his own company, calling it -the “All Star Imperial Russian Ballet,” and brought as its _ballerina_, -the doyenne of Russian _ballerinas_, Ekaterina Geltzer. Again, in 1928, -he returned to the States, under the management of Simeon Gest, with a -company that included Vera Nemtchinova, Xenia Macletzova, and the -English Hilda Butsova, along with Pierre Vladimiroff. - -Mordkin’s successes in Moscow had been considerable, but outside Russia -he always lagged behind the creative procession, largely, I suspect, -because of a stubborn refusal on Mordkin’s part to face up to the fact -that, although the root of ballet is classicism, styles change, the -world moves forward. Ballet is no exception. Mordkin clung too -tenaciously to the faults of the past, as well as to its virtues. - -From the ballet school he founded in New York has come a number of -first-rate dancing talents. The later Mordkin Ballet, in 1937-1938, and -1938-1939, left scarcely a mark on the American ballet picture. It -lacked many things, not the least of which was a _ballerina_ equal to -the great classical roles. Its policy, if any, was as dated as Mordkin -himself. - -If there was a contribution to ballet in America made by Mordkin, it was -a fortuitous one. Choreographically he composed nothing that will be -remembered. But there was a Mordkin company of sorts, and some of its -members formed the nucleus of what eventually became Ballet Theatre. - -On 15th July, 1944, Mikhail Mordkin died at Millbrook, New Jersey. - - -_VASLAV NIJINSKY_ - -Nijinsky has become a literature and a legend. The story of his tragic -life has been told and re-told. His feats as a dancer, his experiments -as a choreographer, became a legend, even while he lived. - -I regret I never knew him. Those who did know him and with whom I have -discussed him, are, for the large part, idolators. That he was a genius -they are all agreed. They insist he could leap higher, could remain -longer in the air--but there is little point in dwelling on the legend. -It is well-known; and legends are the angel’s food on which we thrive. - -Nijinsky’s triumphs came at a time when there were great figures -bursting over the horizon; at a time when there was so little basis for -comparison; at a time when it was extremely difficult for the public to -appraise, because the public had so little basis for comparison. - -How separate fact from fiction? It is difficult, if not quite -impossible. It was the time of the “greatests”: Kubelik, the “greatest” -violinist; Mansfield, the “greatest” actor; Irving, the “greatest” -actor; Modjeska, the “greatest” actress; Bernhardt, the “greatest” -actress; Ellen Terry, the “greatest” actress; Duse, the “greatest” -actress. - -It is such an easy matter when, prompted by the nostalgic urge, to -contemplate longingly a by-gone “Golden Age.” In music, it is equally -simple: Anton Rubinstein, Franz Liszt, de Pachmann, Geraldine Farrar, -Enrico Caruso ... and so it goes. Each was the “greatest.” Nijinsky has -become a part and parcel of the “greatest” legend. - -Jan Kubelik, one of the greatest violinists of his generation, is an -example. When I brought Kubelik for his last American appearance in -1923, I remember a gathering in the foyer of the Brooklyn’s Academy of -Music at one of the concerts he gave there. The younger generation of -violinists were out in force, and a number of them were in earnest -conversation during the interval in the concert. - -Their general opinion was that Kubelik had remained away from America -too long; that he was, in fact, slipping. Sol Elman, the father of -Mischa, listened attentively. When the barrage had expended itself, he -spoke. - -“My dear friends,” he said, “Kubelik played the Paganini concerto -tonight as splendidly as ever he did. Today you have a different -standard. You have Elman, Heifetz, and the rest. All of you have -developed and grown in artistry, technique, and, above all, in knowledge -and appreciation. The point is: you know more; not that Kubelik plays -less well.” - -It is all largely a matter of first impressions and their vividness. It -is the first impressions that color our memories and often form the -basis of our judgments. As time passes, I sometimes wonder how reliable -the first impressions may be. - -I am unable to state dogmatically that Nijinsky was the “greatest” -dancer of our time or of all time. On the other hand, there cannot be -the slightest question that he was a very great personality. The quality -of personality is the one that really matters. - -Today there are, I suppose, between five and six hundred first-class -pianists, for example. These pianists are, in many cases, considerably -more than competent. But to find the great personality in these five to -six hundred talents is something quite different. - -The truly great are those who, through something that can only be -described as personality, electrify the public. The public, once -electrified, will come to see them again and again and again. There are, -perhaps, too many good talents. There never can be enough great artists. - -Vaslav Nijinsky was one of the great ones--a great artist, a great -personality. There are those who can argue long and in nostalgic detail -about his technique, its virtues and its defects. Artistry and -personality transcend technique; for mere technique, however flawless, -is not enough. - -It must be borne in mind that Nijinsky’s public career in the Western -World was hardly more than seven years long. The legend of Nijinsky -commenced with his first appearance in Paris in _Le Spectre de la Rose_, -in 1912. It may have been started, fostered, and developed by -Diaghileff, continued by Nijinsky’s wife. It is quite possible this is -true; but true or not, it does not affect the validity of the legend. - -The story of Nijinsky’s peculiarly romantic marriage, his subsequent -madness, his alleged partial recovery, his recent death have all been -set down for posterity by his wife. I am by no means an all-out admirer -of these books; and I am not able to accept or agree with many of the -statements and implications in them. Yet the loyalty and devotion she -exhibited towards him can only be regarded as admirable. - -The merit of her ministrations to the sick man, on the one hand, hardly -condones her literary efforts, on the other. Frequently, I detect a -quality in the books that reveals itself more strongly as the predatory -female than as the protective wife-mother. I cannot accept Romola -Nijinsky’s reiterated portraits of Diaghileff as the avenging monster -any more than I can the following statement in her latest book, _The -Last Days of Nijinsky_, published in 1952: - -“Undoubtedly, the news that Vaslav was recuperating became more and more -known; therefore it was not surprising that one day he received a cable -with an offer from Mr. Hurok, the theatrical impresario, asking him to -come over to New York and appear. My son-in-law, who had just arrived to -spend the week-end with us, advised me to cable back accepting the -offer, for then we automatically could have escaped from Europe and -would have been able to depart at once. But I felt I could not accept a -contract for Vaslav and commit him. There was no question at the time -that Vaslav should appear in public. Nevertheless, I hoped that the -impresario, who was a Russian himself and who had made his name and -fortune in America managing Russian dancers in the past, would have -vision enough and a humanitarian spirit in helping to get the greatest -Russian dancer out of the European inferno. What I did not know at the -time was that there was quite a group of dancers who had got together -and who worked in silence to keep Nijinsky out of the United States and -from public life. Illness had removed the artist with whom they could -not compete. They dreaded his coming back.” - -While the entire paragraph tends to give a distorted picture of the -situation, the last three sentences are as far from the truth as they -possibly can be. The implied charge is almost too stupid to contradict -or refute. Were it not for the stigma it imputes to many fine artists -living in this country, I should ignore it completely. However, the -facts are quite simple. It is by no means an easy matter to bring into -the United States any person in ill health, either physical or mental. -So far as the regulations were concerned, Nijinsky was but another -alien. It was impossible to secure a visa or an entry permit. It was -equally impossible to secure the proper sort of doctors’ certificates -that could have been of material aid in helping secure such papers. - -I have a vivid memory of a meeting of dancers at the St. Regis Hotel in -New York to discuss what could be done. Anton Dolin was a prime mover in -the plan to give assistance. There was a genuine enthusiasm on the part -of the dancers present. Unfortunately, the economics of the dance are -such that dancers are quite incapable of undertaking long-term financial -commitments. But a substantial number of pledges were offered. - -It certainly was not a question of “quite a group of dancers who had got -together and who worked in silence to keep Nijinsky out of the United -States and from public life.” There was no question or suggestion that -he should appear in public, incidentally. There was only the sheer -inability to get him into the country. If there was any “dread” of “his -coming back,” it could only have been the dread that their former -colleague, ill in mind and body, might be in danger of being exploited -by the romantic author. - -Nijinsky, the legend, will endure as long as ballet, because the legend -has its roots in genius. Legend apart, no one from the Maryinsky stable, -no one in the fairly long history of ballet, as a matter of fact, has -given ballet a more complete service. And it should be remembered that -this service was rendered in a career that actually covered less than a -decade. - - -_A QUARTET OF IMPERIALISTS_ - -There is left for consideration a Russian male quartet, three of them -still living, who, in one degree or another, have made contributions to -ballet in our time, either in the United States or Europe. Their -contributions vary in quality and degree, exactly as the four gentlemen -differ in temperament and approach. I shall first deal briefly with the -three living members of the quartet, two of whom are American citizens -of long standing. - - -_THEODORE KOSLOFF_ - -I commence with one whose contributions to ballet have been the least. I -mention him at all only because, historically speaking, he has been -identified with dance in America a long time. With perhaps a single -notable exception, Theodore Kosloff’s contributions in all forms have -been slight. - -The best has been through teaching, for it is as a teacher that he is -likely to be remembered longest. Spectacular in his teaching methods as -he is in person, it has been from his school that has come a substantial -number of artists of the dance who have made a distinctive place for -themselves in the dance world of America. - -Outstanding among these are Agnes de Mille, who has made an ineradicable -mark with her highly personal choreographic style, and Nana Gollner, -American _ballerina_ of fine if somewhat uncontrolled talents, the -latter having received almost all her training at Kosloff’s hands and -cane. - -Theodore Kosloff was born in 1883. A pupil of the Moscow rather than the -Petersburg school, he eventually became a minor soloist at the Bolshoi -Theatre in Moscow, appearing in, among others, _The Sleeping Beauty_ and -_Daughter of Pharaoh_. When Diaghileff recruited his company, Kosloff -and his wife, Maria Baldina, were among the Muscovites engaged. Kosloff -was little more than a _corps de ballet_ member with Diaghileff, with an -occasional small solo. But he had a roving and retentive eye. - -When Gertrude Hoffman and Morris Gest decided to jump the Russian Ballet -gun on Broadway, and to present their _Saison de Ballets Russes_ at the -Winter Garden in advance of Diaghileff’s first American visit, it was -Theodore Kosloff who restaged the Fokine works for Hoffman, without so -much as tilt of the hat or a by-your-leave either to the creator or the -owner. - -Remaining in the States after the demise of the venture, Kosloff for a -time appeared in vaudeville with his wife, Baldina, and his younger -brother, Alexis, also a product of the Moscow School. One of these tours -took them to California, where Theodore settled in Hollywood. Here, -almost simultaneously, he opened his school and associated himself with -Cecil B. de Mille as an actor in silent film “epics.” He was equally -successful at both. - -Kosloff’s purely balletic activities thereafter included numerous -movie-house “presentations”--the unlamented spectacles that preceded the -feature film in the silent picture days, in palaces like Grauman’s -Egyptian and Grauman’s Chinese; a brief term as ballet-master of the San -Francisco Opera Ballet; and colossal and pepped-up versions of -_Petroushka_ and _Schéhérazade_, the former in Los Angeles, the latter -at the Hollywood Bowl. - -Today, at seventy, Kosloff pounds his long staff at classes in the -shadow of the Hollywood hills, directing all his activity at perspiring -and aspiring young Americans, who in increasing numbers are looking -towards the future through the medium of ballet. - - -_LAURENT NOVIKOFF_ - -The three living members of this male quartet were all Muscovites, which -is to say, products of the Imperial School of Moscow and dancers of the -Bolshoi Theatre, rather than products of the Maryinsky. In Russian -ballet this was a sharp distinction and a fine one, with the -Maryinskians inclined to glance down the nose a bit at their Moscow -colleagues. And possibly with reason. - -Laurent Novikoff was born five years later than Theodore Kosloff; he -graduated from the Moscow School an equal number of years later. He -remained at the Bolshoi Theatre for only a year before joining the -Diaghileff Ballet in Paris for an equal length of time. On his return to -Moscow at the close of the Diaghileff season, he became a first dancer -at the Bolshoi, only to leave to become Anna Pavlova’s partner the next -year. As a matter of fact, the three remaining members of the quartet -were all, at one time or another, partners of Pavlova. - -With Pavlova, Novikoff toured the United States in 1913 and in 1914. -Returning once again to Moscow, he staged ballets for opera, and -remained there until the revolution, when he went to London and rejoined -the Diaghileff Company, only to leave and join forces once again with -Pavlova, remaining with her this time for seven years, and eventually -opening a ballet school in London. In 1929, Novikoff accepted an -invitation from the Chicago Civic Opera Company to become its -ballet-master; and later, for a period of five years, he was -ballet-master of the Metropolitan Opera Company. - -As a dancer, Novikoff had a number of distinguished qualities, including -a fine virility, a genuinely romantic manner, imagination and authority. -As a choreographer, he can hardly be classified as a progressive. While -he staged a number of works for Pavlova, including, among others, -_Russian Folk Lore_ and _Don Quixote_, most of his choreographic work -was with one opera company or another. In nearly all cases, ballet was, -as it still is, merely a poor step-sister in the opera houses and with -the opera companies, often regarded by opera directors merely as a -necessary nuisance, and only on rare occasions is an opera choreographer -ever given his head. - -A charming, cultured, and quite delightful gentleman, Laurent Novikoff -now lives quietly with his wife Elizabeth in the American middle west. - - -_ALEXANDRE VOLININE_ - -Alexandre Volinine was Anna Pavlova’s partner for a longer time than any -of the others. Born in 1883, he was a member of the same Moscow Imperial -class as Theodore Kosloff, attained the rank of first dancer at the -Bolshoi Theatre, and remained there for nine years. - -In 1910, he left Russia to become Pavlova’s partner, a position he held -intermittently for many years. Apart from being Pavlova’s chief support, -he made numerous American appearances. He was a member of Gertrude -Hoffman’s _Saison Russe_, at the Winter Garden, in 1911; and in the same -year supported the great Danish _ballerina_, Adeline Genée, at the -Metropolitan Opera House, in _La Danse_, “an authentic record by Mlle. -Genée of Dancing and Dancers between the years 1710 and 1845.” - -Volinine returned to the United States in 1912-1913, when, after the -historical break between Pavlova and Mordkin, the latter formed his -“All-Star Imperial Russian Ballet,” with Ekaterina Geltzer, Julia -Sedova, Lydia Lopokova, and Volinine. This was an ill-starred venture -from the start for no sooner had they opened at the Metropolitan Opera -House than Mordkin and Sedova quarrelled with Geltzer and, so -characteristic of Russian Ballet, the factions, in this case Polish and -English _versus_ Russian, took violent sides. Volinine was on the side -of the former. As a result of the company split, the English-Polish -section went off on a tour across the country with Volinine, who -augmented their tiny salaries by five dollars weekly from his private -purse. After they had worked their way through the Deep South and -arrived at Creole New Orleans, the manager decamped for a time, and a -tremulous curtain descended on the first act of _Coppélia_, not to rise. - -By one means or another, and with some help from the British Consul in -New Orleans, they managed to return to New York by way of a stuffy -journey in a vile-smelling freighter plying along the coast. By quick -thinking, and even quicker acting, including mass-sitting on the -manager’s doorstep, they forced that individual to arrange for the -passage back to England, which was accomplished with its share of -excitement; once back in England, Volinine returned to his place as -Pavlova’s first dancer. - -Volinine was the featured dancer with Pavlova in 1916, when I first met -her at the Hippodrome, and often accompanied us to supper. As the years -wore on, I learned to know and admire him. - -As a dancer, Volinine was a supreme technician, and, I believe, one of -the most perfect romantic dancers of his time. In his Paris school today -he is passing on his rare knowledge to the men of today’s generation of -_premières danseurs_. His teaching, combined with his quite superb -understanding of the scientific principles involved, are of great -service to ballet. Michael Somes, the first dancer of the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet, is among those who go to Volinine’s Paris studio for those -refining corrections obtainable only from a great teacher who has been a -great dancer. - -“Sasha” Volinine has, perhaps, spent as much or more of his professional -life in England, Australia, and other English-speaking countries, as any -Russian dancer. On the other hand, he speaks and understands less -English, perhaps, than any of the others. - -Often in America and London we have gone out to dine, to sup, often with -a group. “Sasha” invariably would be the first to ask the headwaiter or -_maître d’hôtel_ for a copy of the menu. Immediately he would -concentrate on it, poring over it, giving it seemingly careful scrutiny -and study. - -All the others in the party would have ordered, and then, after long -cogitation, “Sasha” would summon the waiter and, pointing to something -in the menu utterly irrelevant, would solemnly demand: “Ham and eggs.” - -I am happy to count “Sasha” Volinine among my old friends, and it is -always a pleasure to foregather with him when I am in Paris. - - -_ADOLPH BOLM_ - -If my old friend, Adolph Bolm, were here to read this, he probably would -be the first to object to being classified with this quartet of -“Imperialists.” He would have pointed out to me in his emphatic manner -that by far the greater part of his career had been spent in the United -States, working for ballet in America. He would have insisted that he -neither thought nor acted like an “Imperialist”: that he was a -progressive, not a reactionary; and he would, at considerable length, -have advanced his theory that all “Imperialists” were reactionaries. He -would have repeated to me that even when he was at the Maryinsky, he was -a rebel and a leader in the revolt against what he felt were the -stultifying influences of its inbred conservatism. This would have gone -on for some time, for Bolm was intelligent, literate, articulate, and -ready to make a speech at the drop of a ballet shoe, or no shoe at all. - -I have placed Bolm in this book among the “Imperialists” because he had -his roots in the Imperial Russian Ballet, where he was conditioned as -child and youth; he was a product of the School in Theatre Street and a -Maryinsky soloist for seven years; he was a contemporary and one-time -colleague of the three other members of this quartet, either in Russia -or with the Diaghileff Ballet Russe. - -Born in St. Petersburg in 1884, the son of the concert-master and -associate conductor of the French operatic theatre, the Mikhailovsky, -Bolm entered the School at ten, was a first-prize graduate in 1904. He -was never a great classical dancer; but he had a first-rate sense of the -theatre, was a brilliant character dancer, a superlative mime. - -Bolm was the first to take Anna Pavlova out of Russia, as manager and -first dancer of a Scandinavian and Central European tour that made -ballet history. He was, I happen to know, largely responsible in -influencing Pavlova temporarily to postpone the idea of a company of her -own and to abandon their own tour, because he believed the future of -Russian Ballet lay with Diaghileff. Although the Nijinsky legend -commences when Nijinsky first leapt through the window of the virginal -bedroom of _Le Spectre de la Rose_, in Paris in 1911, it was _Prince -Igor_ and Bolm’s virile, barbaric warrior chieftain that provided the -greater impact and produced the outstanding revelation of male dancing -such as the Western World had not hitherto known. - -Bolm was intimately associated with the Diaghileff invasion of the -United States, when Diaghileff, a displaced and dispirited person -sitting out the war in Switzerland, was invited to bring his company to -America by Otto H. Kahn. But, owing to the war and the disbanding of his -company, it was impossible for Diaghileff to reassemble the original -personnel. It was a grave problem. Neither Nijinsky, Fokine, nor -Karsavina was available. It was then that Bolm took on the tremendous -dual role of first dancer and choreographer, engaging and rehearsing -what was to all intents and purposes a new company in a repertoire of -twenty-odd ballets. The Diaghileff American tours were due in no small -degree to Bolm’s efforts in achieving what seemed to be the impossible. - -After the second Diaghileff American tour, during which Bolm was -injured, he remained in New York. Unlike many of his colleagues, his -quick intelligence grasped American ideas and points of view. This was -evidenced throughout his career by his interest in our native subjects, -composers, painters. - -With his own Ballet Intime, his motion picture theatre presentations of -ballet, his Chicago Allied Arts, his tenure with the Chicago Opera -Company, the San Francisco Opera Ballet, his production of _Le Coq d’Or_ -and two productions of _Petroushka_ at the Metropolitan Opera House, he -helped sow the seeds of real ballet appreciation across the country. - -My acquaintance and friendship with Adolph Bolm extended over a long -time. His experimental mind, his eagerness, his enthusiasm, his deep -culture, his capacity for friendship, his hospitality--all these -qualities endeared him to me. If one did not always agree with him (and -I, for one, did not), one could not fail to appreciate and respect his -honesty and sincerity. During a period when Ballet Theatre was under my -management, I was instrumental in placing him as the _régisseur general_ -(general stage director to those unfamiliar with ballet’s term for this -important functionary) of the company, feeling that his discipline, -knowledge, taste, and ability would be helpful to the young company in -maintaining a high performing standard. Unhappily, much of the good he -did and could do was negated by an unfortunate attitude on the part of -some of our younger American dancers, who have little or no respect for -tradition, reputation, or style, and who seem actively to resent -achievement--in an art that has its roots in the past although its -branches stretch out to the future--rather than respect and admire it. - -A striking example of this sort of thing took place when I had been -instrumental, later on, in having Bolm stage a new version of -Stravinsky’s _Firebird_, for Ballet Theatre, in 1945, with Alicia -Markova and Anton Dolin. - -My last meeting with Bolm took place at the opening performance of the -Sadler’s Wells production of _The Sleeping Beauty_, in Los Angeles. I -shall not soon forget his genuine enthusiasm and how he embraced Ninette -de Valois as he expressed his happiness that the great full-length -ballets in all their splendor had at last been brought to Los Angeles. - -In his later years, Bolm lived on a hilltop in Hollywood; in Hollywood, -but not of it, with Igor Stravinsky and Nicholas Remisoff as two of his -closest and most intimate friends. One night, in the spring of 1951, -Bolm went to sleep and did not wake again in this world. - -His life had been filled with an intense activity, a remarkable -productivity in his chosen field--thirty-five years of it in the United -States, in the triple role of teacher, dancer, choreographer. As I have -intimated before, Bolm’s understanding of the things that are at the -root of the American character was, in my opinion, deeper and more -profound than that of any of his colleagues. His achievements will live -after him. - -My last contacts with Bolm revealed to me a man still vital, still -eager; but a little soured, a shade bitter, because he was conscious the -world was moving on and felt that the ballet was shutting him out. - -Before that bitterness could take too deep a root in the heart and soul -of a gentle artist, a Divine Providence closed his eyes in the sleep -everlasting. - - - - -6. Tristan and Isolde: -Michel and Vera Fokine - - -If ever there were two people who seemingly were inseparable, they were -Michel and Vera Fokine. Theirs was a modern love story that could rank -with those of Abélard and Heloïse, Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde. -The romance of the Fokines continued, unabated, till death did them -part. - -The story of Michel Fokine’s revolution in modern ballet has become an -important part of ballet’s history. The casual ballet-goer, to whom one -name sounds very much like another, recognizes the name of Fokine. He -may not realize the full importance of the man, but he has been unable -to escape the knowledge that some of the ballets he knows and loves best -are Fokine works. - -The literature that has grown up around Michel Fokine and his work is -fairly voluminous, as was his due. Yet, for those of today’s generation, -who are prone to forget too easily, it cannot be repeated too often that -had it not been for Michel Fokine, there might not have been any such -thing as modern ballet. For ballet, wherein he worked his necessary and -epoch-making revolution, was in grave danger of becoming moribund and -static, and might well, by this time, have become extinct. - -He was a profound admirer of Isadora Duncan, although he denied he had -been influenced by her ideas. Fokine felt Duncan, in her concern for -movement, had brought dancing back to its beginnings. He was filled with -a divine disgust for the routine and the artificial practices of ballet -at the turn of the century. He was termed a heretic when he insisted -that each ballet demands a new technique appropriate to its style, -because he fought against the eternal stereotype. - -Fokine threw in his lot with Diaghileff and his group. With Diaghileff -his greatest masterpieces were created. Both Fokine and Diaghileff were -complicated human beings; both were artists. Problems were never simple -with either of them. There is no reason here to go into the causes for -the rupture between them. That there was a rupture and that it was never -completely healed is regrettable. It was tantamount to a divorce between -the parents of modern ballet. It was, as is so often the case in -divorce, the child that suffered. - -For a time following the break, the Fokines returned to Russia; and -then, in 1918, together with their son Vitale, spent some time in and -out of Finland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Conditions were not ideal -for creation, and nothing was added to the impressive list of Fokine -masterpieces. - -In 1919, Morris Gest was immersed in the production of a gargantuan -musical show destined for the Century Theatre: _Aphrodite_, based on an -English translation of Pierre Louys’ novel. Gest made Fokine an offer to -come to America to stage a Bacchanal for the work. Fokine accepted. -_Aphrodite_ was not a very good musical, nor was it, as I remember it, a -very exciting Bacchanal; but it was a great success. Fokine himself was -far from happy with it. - -For a number of reasons, the Fokines decided to make New York their -home. They eventually bought a large house, where Riverside Drive joins -Seventy-second Street; converted part of the house into a dancing -studio, and lived in the rest of the house in an atmosphere of nostalgic -gloom, a sort of Chopinesque twilight. Ballet in America was at a very -low ebb when Fokine settled here. There was a magnificent opportunity to -hand for the father of modern ballet, had he but taken it. For some -reason he muffed the big chance. Perhaps he was embittered by a series -of unhappy experiences, not the least of which was the changed political -scene in his beloved Russia, to which he was never, during the rest of -his life, able to make adjustment. He was content, as an artist, for the -most part to rest on his considerable laurels. There was always -_Schéhérazade_. More importantly, there was always _Sylphides_. - -Fokine’s creative life, in the true sense, was something he left behind -in Europe. He never seemed to sense or to try to understand the American -impulse, rhythm, or those things which lie at the root of our native -culture. In the bleak Riverside Drive mansion, he taught rather -half-heartedly at classes, but gave much of his time and energy in -well-paid private lessons to the untalented daughters of the rich. - -From the choreographic point of view, he was satisfied, for the most -part, to reproduce his early masterpieces with inferior organizations, -or to stage lesser pieces for the Hippodrome or the Ziegfeld Follies. -One of the latter will suffice as an example. It was called _Frolicking -Gods_, a whimsy about a couple of statues of Greek Gods who came to -life, became frightened at a noise, and returned to their marble -immobility. And it may be of interest to note that these goings-on were -all accomplished to, of all things, Tchaikowsky’s _Nutcracker Suite_. -There was also a pseudo-Aztec affair, devised, so far as tale was -concerned, by Vera Fokine, and called _The Thunder Bird_. The Aztec -quality was emphasized by the use of a pastiche of music culled from the -assorted works of Tchaikowsky, Glinka, Rimsky-Korsakoff, Balakirev, and -Borodine. - -It was during the winter of 1920, not long after the Fokines, with their -son Vitale, had arrived here, that we came together professionally. I -arranged to present them jointly in a series of programmes at the -Metropolitan Opera House, with Arnold Volpe and his Symphony Orchestra. - -Fokine came with me to see the Metropolitan stage. He arrived at what -might have been a ticklish moment. Fokine was extremely sensitive to -what he called “pirated” versions of his works. There was, of course, no -copyright protection for them, since choreography had no protection -under American copyright law. Fokine was equally certain that he, -Fokine, was the only person who could possibly reproduce his works. As -we entered the Metropolitan, Adolph Bolm was appearing in an -opera-ballet version of Rimsky-Korsakoff’s _Le Coq d’Or_. The -performance had commenced. - -As I have intimated, after he broke with Diaghileff, Fokine was so -depressed that for some time he could not work at all. Then he received -an invitation from Anna Pavlova to come to Berlin, where she was about -to produce some new ballets. Fokine accepted the invitation, and when -Pavlova asked him to suggest a subject, Fokine proposed a ballet based -on the opera, _Le Coq d’Or_. Pavlova, however, considered the plot of -the Rimsky-Korsakoff work to be too political, and also felt it unwise -of her to offer a subject burlesquing the Tsar. - -It was not until after Fokine temporarily returned to the Diaghileff -fold that _Le Coq d’Or_ achieved production. Diaghileff agreed with -Fokine on the subject, and Fokine was anxious that it should be mounted -in as modern a manner as possible. The story of the opera, based on -Pushkin’s well-known poem, as adapted to the stage by V. Bielsky, -requires no comment. Fokine’s opera-ballet production was, in its way, -quite unique. There were two casts, which is to say, singers and -dancers. While one character danced and acted, the words in the libretto -were spoken or sung by the dancing character’s counterpart. - -As a result of the Metropolitan Opera Company’s wartime ban on anything -German, in 1917, Pierre Monteux, the former Diaghileff conductor, was -imported by the Metropolitan for the expanded French list. One of the -results of Monteux’s influence on the Metropolitan repertoire was _Le -Coq d’Or_. Adolph Bolm, by that time resident in New York, having -remained here after the last Diaghileff American season, was engaged by -Otto H. Kahn to stage the work in the style of the Diaghileff -production. Bolm, who had his own ideas, nevertheless based his work on -Fokine’s basic plan, and that of the Fokine-Diaghileff production. Bolm -was meticulous, however, in insisting that credit be given to Fokine for -the original idea, and it was always billed as “after Michel Fokine.” -The Metropolitan production, as designed by the Hungarian artist, Willy -Pogany, whose sets were among the best the Metropolitan ever has seen, -resulted in one of the most attractive and exciting productions the -Metropolitan has achieved. Aside from the production itself, the singing -of the Spanish coloratura, Maria Barrientos, as the Queen, the -conducting of Monteux, and the dancing of Bolm as King Dodon, set a new -standard for the Metropolitan. - -On the occasion I have mentioned, we entered the front of the house, and -Fokine watched a bit of the performance with me, standing in the back of -the auditorium. He had no comment, which was unusual for him. - -After watching for a time, I asked Fokine if he would care to meet his -old colleague. He said he would. Together we felt our way back stage in -the dimly lighted passages. The pass-door to back-stage was even darker. -I stood aside to let Fokine precede me. Then my heart nearly stopped. -Fokine stumbled and nearly fell prostrate on the iron-concrete steps. He -picked himself up, brushed himself off. “Mikhail Mikhailovitch,” I said, -half frightened to death, “you must be careful.” - -“It is nothing,” he replied, “but why in hell isn’t the place properly -lighted?” - -The meeting with Bolm, who had made Fokine’s favorite ballet even more -exciting than it actually was, was cordial enough, cool, and uneventful. -Bolm was by far the more demonstrative. Their conversation was general -rather than particular. Fokine and I looked over the stage, its size and -its equipment. Fokine thanked Bolm, apologized for the interruption, and -took his leave. As we felt our way out to the street, Fokine’s only -comment on _Le Coq d’Or_ was, “The women’s shawls should be farther back -on the head. They are quite impossible when worn like that. And when -they weep, they should weep.” - -Fokine was a stickler for detail. In conversation about dancing, over -and over again he would use two Russian words, “_Naslajdaites_” and -“_laska_.” Freely translated, those Russian words suggest “do it as -though you enjoyed yourself” and “caressingly.” - -The programme for the appearances at the Metropolitan had been carefully -worked out, balanced with joint performances, solos for each, with -symphony orchestra interludes while Michel and Vera were changing -costumes. For the opening performance it was decided that Michel and -Vera would jointly do the lovely waltz from _Les Sylphides_; a group of -Caucasian dances to music arranged by Asafieff; the Mazurka from -Delibes’ _Coppélia_; and a group of five Russian dances by Liadov. -Fokine himself would do the male solo, the Mazurka from _Les Sylphides_, -and a Liadov _Berceuse_; while Vera’s solo contributions would be _The -Dying Swan_, and the arrangement Fokine made for her of Beethoven’s -“_Moonlight Sonata_.” - -The advertising campaign was under full steam ahead, and rehearsals were -well under way. So well were things going, in fact, that I relaxed my -habitual pre-opening tension for a moment at my home, which was, in -those days, in Brooklyn. I even missed a rehearsal, since Fokine was at -his very best, keen and interested, and the music was in the able hands -of Arnold Volpe, a musician who worked passionately for the highest -artistic aims, a Russian-born American - -[Illustration: - - _Baron_ - -S. Hurok] - -[Illustration: - -_Lucas-Pritchard_ - -Mrs. Hurok] - -[Illustration: _Lido_ - -Lubov Egorova and Solange Schwartz] - -[Illustration: Marie Rambert] - -[Illustration: _Lido_ - -Olga Preobrajenska in her Paris school] - -[Illustration: Lydia Lopokova - -_Hoppé_] - -[Illustration: Tamara Karsavina] - -[Illustration: Mathilde Kchessinska - -_Lido_ -] - -[Illustration: _Maurice Goldberg_ - -Michel Fokine] - -[Illustration: Adolph Bolm - -_Maurice Seymour_] - -[Illustration: _Acme_ - -Anna Pavlova] - -[Illustration: - - Alexandre Volinine in his Paris studio, with Colette Marchand - -_Lido_] - -[Illustration: - -_Baker_ - - Ballet Pioneering in America: “Sasha” Philipoff, Irving Deakin, - Olga Morosova, “Colonel” W. de Basil, Sono Osato -] - -[Illustration: - - S. Hurok, “Colonel” W. de Basil and leading members of the de Basil - Ballet Russe, 1933. Back row: David Lichine, Vania Psota, Sasha - Alexandroff, S. Hurok; Center row: Leonide Massine, Tatiana - Riabouchinska, Col. W. de Basil, Nina Verchinina, Yurek - Shabalevsky; Front row: Edward Borovansky, Tamara Toumanova - -_Nikoff_ -] - -pioneer in music. Volpe devoted his entire life, from the time of his -arrival in this country until his death, to the cause of young American -musicians. He was an ideal collaborator for the Fokines. There was a -fine understanding between Fokine and Volpe, and the performances, -therefore, were splendid. I felt content. - -But not for long. My peace of mind was shattered by a telephone call. It -was Mrs. Volpe. The news was bad. Fokine had suffered an injury during -rehearsal. He had pulled a leg tendon. The pain was severe. The -rehearsal had been abandoned. - -I rushed to Manhattan and up to the old Marie Antoinette Hotel, famous -as the long-time home of that wizard of the American theatre, David -Belasco. Here the Fokines had made their temporary home, while searching -for a house. Michel was in bed, with Vera in solicitous attendance. To -understate, the news was very bad. The doctor, who had just left, had -said it would be at least six weeks before he could permit Fokine to -dance. - -But the performance _had_ to be given Tuesday night. It was now Sunday. -There was all the publicity, all the advertising, and the rent of the -Metropolitan Opera House had to be paid. This was not all. A tour had -been booked to follow the Metropolitan appearance, including -Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, and Richmond. Apart from my own -expenses, there were the responsibilities to the various local managers -and managements concerned. Something had to be done, and at once. The -newspapers had to be informed. - -The silence of the hotel bedroom, hitherto broken only by Vera’s cooing -ministrations, deepened. It was I who spoke. An idea flashed through my -mind. - -“Mikhail Mikhailovitch,” I said, “could Vera Petrovna do a full -programme on Tuesday night on her own?” - -Michel and Vera exchanged glances. There was something telepathic in the -communication between their eyes. - -Fokine turned his head in my direction. - -“Yes,” he said. - -Quickly the programme was rearranged. Fokine suggested adding a Chopin -group, which he called _Poland--Three Moods: Happiness, Revolt, -Sadness_. - -We went into action. The orchestra seat prices were five dollars, and a -five-dollar top was high in those days. Announcements were rushed out, -informing the public in big type that Vera Fokina, _Prima Ballerina -Russian Ballet_, would appear, together with the adjusted programme, -which we agreed upon as follows: Arnold Volpe and his Symphony Orchestra -would play Weber’s _Oberon_ Overture; Saint-Saens’ Symphonic Poem, -_Rouet d’Omphale_; Beethoven’s _Egmont Overture_; Rimsky-Korsakoff’s -_Capriccio Espagnol_; Ippolitoff-Ivanoff’s _Caucasian Sketches_; and the -_Wedding Procession_ from Rimsky-Korsakoff’s _Le Coq d’Or_. Fokina had -an evening cut out for her: the three Polish moods I have mentioned; -_The Dying Swan_; _The “Moonlight” Sonata_; the _Danses Tziganes_, by -Nachez; _Sapeteado_, a Gitano Dance, by Hartmann; two _Caucasian -Dances_, to folk music arranged by Asafief; and four of Liadov’s -_Russian Folk Dances_. - -A large sign to the same effect was installed in the lobby of the -Metropolitan Opera House. The news spread quickly. But the public did -not seem to mind. In this eleventh-hour shifting of arrangements, I was -happy to have the whole-hearted cooperation of John Brown and Edward -Ziegler, the administrative heads of the Metropolitan Opera Company. - -The first performance was sold out; the audience was enthusiastic. -Moreover, while in those days there were no dance critics, the press -comment, largely a matter of straight reporting, was highly favorable. I -should like to quote _The New York Times_ account in full as an example -of the sort of attention given then to such an important event, some -thirty-odd years ago: _“FOKINA’S ART DELIGHTS METROPOLITAN AUDIENCE--Her -Husband and Partner Ill, Russian Dancers Interest Throng Alone, with -Volpe’s Aid: Vera Fokina, the noted Russian dancer performed an unusual -feat on February 11, when she kept a great audience in the Metropolitan -keenly interested in her art for almost three hours. When it was -announced that Mr. Fokine, her husband, was ill and therefore not able -to carry out his part of the program, a murmur of dissatisfaction was -audible. But the auditors soon forgot their disappointment and wondered -at Mme. Fokina’s graceful and vivid interpretations_. - -“_Among the best liked of her offerings was the ‘Dying Swan,’ with -Saint-Saens’s music. Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ Sonata, well played by an -invisible pianist, Izia Seligman, and the Russian and Gipsy pieces. She -was compelled to give many encores._ - -“_Arnold Volpe and his orchestra took a vital part in the program, -playing the music with a fine instinct for the interpretative ideas of -the dancer. He conducted his forces through some of the compositions -intended as the vehicles for the absent Mr. Fokine, and thus won an -honest share in the success of the entertainment._” - -So much for ballet criticism in New York in 1920. - -The tour had to go on with Fokina alone, although Fokine had recovered -sufficiently to hobble about and to supervise and direct and oversee. A -certain Mr. K. had associated himself as a sort of local representative. -Mr. K. was not much of a local manager; but he did have an unholy talent -for cheque-bouncing. It was not a matter of one or two, due to some -error; they bounded and bounced all over the country in droves, and -daily. If the gods that be had seen fit to give me a less sound nervous -system than, happily, they have, K.’s financial antics could have -brought on a nervous breakdown. - -At the same time, Fokine, with his tremendous insistence on perfection, -hobbled about, giving orders to all and sundry in a mixture of -languages--Russian, French, German, Swedish, and Danish--that no one, -but no one, was able to understand. Even up to the time of his death, -English was difficult for Mikhail Mikhailovitch, and he spoke it, at all -times, with an unreproducible accent. His voice, unless excited, was -softly guttural. In typically Russian fashion, he interchanged the -letters “g” and “h.” Always there was an almost limitless range of -facial expressions. - -On this tour, Fokine, being unable to dance, had more time on his hands -to worry about everything else. His lighting rehearsals were long and -chaotic, since provincial electricians were not conspicuous either for -their ability, their interest, or their patience. During the lighting -rehearsals, since he was immobilised by his injury, Fokine and Vera -would sit side by side. He knew what he wanted; but, before he would -finally approve anything, he would turn to her for her commendation; and -there would pass between them that telepathic communication I often saw, -and about which I have remarked before. Occasionally, if something -amused them, they would laugh together; but, more often than not, their -faces revealed no more than would a skilled poker-player’s. - -Fokine could manage to keep his temper on an even keel for a -considerable time, if he put his mind to it. There was no affectation -about Fokine, either artistically or personally. In appearance there was -not a single one of those artificial eccentricities so often associated -with the “artistic temperament.” To the man in the street he would have -passed for a solidly successful business man. At work he was a -taskmaster unrelenting, implacable, fanatical frequently to the point of -downright cruelty. At rest, he was a gentleman of great charm and -simplicity, with a sense of humor and a certain capacity for enjoyment. -Unfortunately, his sense of humor had a way of deserting him at critical -moments. This, coupled with a lack of tact, made him many enemies among -those who were once his closest friends. These occasional flashes of -geniality came only when things were going his way; but, if things did -not go as he wanted, his rages could be and were devastating, -all-consuming. - -One such incident occurred in Philadelphia. As a matter of fact, -Philadelphia was marked by incidents. The first was one I had with -Edward Lobe, then manager of Philadelphia’s Metropolitan Opera House, -then at Broad and Poplar Streets. It had to do with some of the bouncing -K.’s bouncing paper. This straightened out, I returned to the stage to -find turmoil rampant. There was another crisis. - -The crisis had been precipitated by the man whose job it was to operate -the curtain. Fokine had shouted and screamed “_Zanovess! Zanovess!_” at -the unfortunate individual. Now “_Zanovess_” is the Russian word for -curtain. The curtain had not fallen. Fokine could not say “curtain.” The -operator did not have the vaguest idea of the meaning of “_zanovess_.” -Moreover, the stage-hand suspected, from the tone of Fokine’s voice, his -barked order, and the fierce expression of his face that he was being -called names. When, finally, Fokine screamed “_Idyot!_” at him, the -curtain-man knew for sure he had been insulted. The argument and -hostility spread through his colleagues. - -Eventually, I got them calmed down. Fokine insisted they were all -idiots; they were all ignorant. This idea leaked through to the -stage-hands, and that did not help matters. I finally suggested that, -since neither of them could understand the other, the best procedure -would be not to scream and shout and stomp--uttering strange mixed -French and Russian oaths--but to be quiet and to show by gesture and -pantomime, rather than to give unintelligible verbal orders. So, with -only minor subsequent scenes, the rehearsal got itself finished. - -Also, in Philadelphia, we had substituted _Salome’s Dance of the Seven -Veils_, done to Glazounov’s score of the same name, in place of the -_“Moonlight” Sonata._ It is hardly necessary to point out that the -veils, all seven of them, are vastly important. Because of their -importance, these had been entrusted to the keeping of Clavia, Vera’s -Russian maid, instead of being packed with the other costumes. But, come -performance time, Clavia could not be found. Hue and cry were raised; -her hotel alerted; restaurants searched; but still no Clavia. She simply -had to be found. I pressed Marie Volpe, Arnold Volpe’s singer-wife, into -the breach to act as maid for Vera, and to help her dress. But only -Clavia knew where Salome’s veils had been secreted. The performance -started. The search continued. - -Suddenly, there came a series of piercing screams emanating from an -upper floor dressing-room. Haunted by visions of the Phantom of the -Opera, I rushed up the stairs to find Clavia lying on the floor, -obviously in pain. We managed to get her down to Fokina’s room and -placed her on the couch in what was known in Philadelphia as “Caruso’s -Room,” the star dressing-room Fokina was using. As we entered, Fokina -stood ready to go on stage, costumed for _The Dying Swan_. The situation -was obvious. Clavia was about to give birth to a child. The labor pains -had commenced. I pushed Vera on to the stage and Marie Volpe into the -room--in the nick of time. Mrs. Volpe, a concert singer, pinch-hitting -as a maid for Vera, now turned midwife for the first time in her life. -By the time the ambulance and the doctor arrived, mother and infant were -doing as well as could be expected. - -Next morning Mrs. Volpe found herself a new role. A lady of high moral -scruples, herself a mother, she had realized that no one had mentioned a -father for the child. Mrs. Volpe had assumed the role of detective (a -dangerous one, I assure the reader, in ballet), and was determined to -run down the child’s father. The newspaper stories, with the headline: -“_CHILD BORN IN CARUSO’S DRESSING ROOM_,” had not been too reassuring to -Mrs. Volpe. I counselled her that she would be well advised to let the -matter drop. - -On our arrival in Baltimore, I was greeted by the news that my -rubber-wizard of a local manager, the bouncing Mr. K., had decamped with -the box-office sale, leaving behind only some rubber cheques. This, in -itself, I felt was enough for one day. But it was not to be. Vera, as -curtain time approached, once again was up to her usual business of -exhibiting “temperament,” spoiling her life, as she so often did in this -respect, throughout her dancing career. - -“What is it now?” I asked. - -She waxed wroth with great volubility and at considerable length, with -profound indignation that the stage floor-cloth was, as she said, -“impossible.” Nothing I could say was of any avail. Vera refused, -absolutely, irrevocably, unconditionally, to dance. Mrs. Volpe was to -help her into her street clothes, and at once. She would return to her -hotel. She would return to New York. I must cancel the engagement, the -tour, all because of the stage-cloth. And the audience was already -filling the theatre. - -I thought quickly and went into action. Calling the head carpenter and -the property man together, I got them to turn the floor-cloth round. -Then, going back to the dressing-room, where Vera was preparing to -leave, I succeeded in convincing her by showing her that it was an -entirely new doth that we had just got for her happiness. - -Vera Fokina never danced better than that night in Baltimore. - -Our farewell performance, with both Fokines dancing, took place at -Charles Dillingham’s Hippodrome, on Sunday evening, 29th May, 1920. For -this occasion, the Fokines appeared together, by popular request, in the -Harlequin and Columbine variation from his own masterpiece, _Carnaval_; -Fokine alone danced the _Dagestanskaja Lezginka_, and staged a work he -called _Amoun and Berenis_, actually scenes from his _Une Nuit -d’Egypte_, which Diaghileff called _Cléopâtre_, adapted, musically, from -Anton Arensky’s score for the ballet. I quote Fokine’s own libretto for -the work: - - Amoun and Berenis are engaged in the sport of hunting. She - represents Gazelle, and he the hunter who wounds her in the breast. - The engaged couple plight each other to everlasting love. But soon - Amoun betrays his bride. He falls in love with Queen Cleopatra. Not - having the opportunity of coming near his beloved queen, he sends - an arrow with a note professing his love and readiness to sacrifice - his life for her. Notwithstanding the tears and prayers of Berenis, - he throws himself into the arms of Cleopatra, and, lured by her - tenderness, he accepts from her hands a cup of poison, drinks it - and dies. Berenis finds the corpse of her lover, forgives him and - mourns his death. - -The Hippodrome version consisted of “The Meeting of Amoun and Berenis” -“The Entrance of Cleopatra,” by the orchestra; “The Dance Before -Cleopatra”; “The Betrayal of Amoun and the Jealousy of Berenis”; “The -Hebrew Dance,” by the orchestra; “The Death of Amoun and the Mourning of -Berenis.” - -In 1927, I presented the Fokines with their “American Ballet,” composed -of their pupils, at the Masonic Auditorium, in Detroit, and on -subsequent tours. Prominent professional dancers were added to the pupil -roster. - -That summer, with the Fokines and their company, I introduced ballet to -the Lewisohn Stadium Concerts in New York, for three performances, to a -record audience of forty-eight thousand people. I also presented them -for four performances at the Century Theatre in Central Park West. The -Stadium programmes included _Les Elves_, arranged to Mendelssohn’s -_Overture to a Midsummer Night’s Dream_, with the addition of the same -composer’s Andante and Allegro from the _Violin Concerto_. Also -_Medusa_, a tragedy set to Tchaikowsky’s _Symphonie Pathétique_, a work -for four characters, the title role being danced by Vera Fokina, and the -sea god Poseidon, who fell in love with the beautiful Medusa, danced by -Fokine. - -It was during one of the Stadium performances, I remember, I had -occasion to go to the Fokines’ dressing-room on some errand. I knocked, -and believing I heard an invitation to enter, opened the door to -discover the two Fokines dissolved in tears of happiness. So moved was -Michel by Vera’s performance of the title role in _Medusa_, that they -were sobbing in each other’s arms. - -“Wonderful, wonderful, my darling!” Fokine was murmuring. “Such a -beautiful performance; and to think you did it all in such a short -period, with so very few rehearsals; and the really amazing thing is -that you portrayed the character of the creature precisely as it is in -my mind!” - -In the love, the adoration, the romance of Michel and Vera Fokine, there -was the greatest continuous devotion between man and wife that it has -been my privilege to know. - -Fokine’s American ballet creations have been lost. Perhaps it is as -well. For the closing chapter of the life of a truly great artist they -were sadly inferior. Towards the end of his career, however, he staged -some fresh, new works in France for René Blum’s Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, including _Les Elements_, _Don Juan_, and _L’Epreuve d’Amour_. -Then, for de Basil’s Original Ballet Russe, _Cinderella_, or since he -used the French, _Cendrillon_, to a commissioned score by Baron Frederic -d’Erlanger, which might have been better. But choreographically -_Cendrillon_ was a return to the triumphant Fokine. There was also his -triumphant re-staging of _Le Coq d’Or_. Perhaps his last really great -triumph was his collaboration with Serge Rachmaninoff on _Paganini_, a -work that takes rank with Fokine’s finest. - -Fokine restaged _Les Sylphides_ and _Carnaval_ for Ballet Theatre’s -initial season. When Ballet Theatre was under my management, he created -_Bluebeard_, in 1941, for Anton Dolin. In 1942, I was instrumental in -having German Sevastianov engage Fokine to stage the nostalgic tragedy, -_Russian Soldier_, to the music of Prokofieff. - -While in Mexico, in the summer of 1942, working on _Helen of Troy_, for -Ballet Theatre, Fokine contracted pleurisy, which developed into -pneumonia on his return to New York, where he died, on 22nd August. For -a dancer, he was on the youthful side. He was born in Mannheim-am-Rhine, -Germany, 26th April, 1880, the son of Ekaterina Gindt. According to the -official records of the St. Petersburg Imperial School, his father was -unknown. He was adopted by a merchant, Mikhail Feodorovitch Fokine, who -gave him his name. In 1898, he graduated from the St. Petersburg -Imperial School. In 1905, he married Vera Petrovna Antonova, the -daughter of a master of the wig-maker’s Guild, who had graduated from -the School the year before. - -At the funeral service at the Russian Orthodox Cathedral, in New York, -were assembled all of the dance world in New York in mid-summer, to do -him honor. - -Some of his works will live on, but they suffer with each passing year -because, in most cases, they are not properly done. The Sadler’s Wells -and Royal Danish Ballet productions of the Fokine works are the -exceptions. But all his works suffered continually during his lifetime, -because Fokine had a faulty memory, and his restaging of the works was, -all too often, the product of unhappy afterthoughts. Towards the end of -his life he became more and more embittered. He, the one-time great -revolutionary, resented the new developments in ballet, perhaps because -they had not been developed by Fokine. - -This bitterness was quite unnecessary, for Fokine remains the greatest -creator of modern ballet. His works, properly staged, will always -provide a solid base for all ballet programmes. Despite the hue and cry, -despite the lavish praise heaped upon each new experiment by modern -choreographers, and upon the choreographers themselves, in all -contemporary ballet there is no one to take his place. - -Other ballet-masters, other choreographers, working with the same basic -materials, in the same spirit, in the same language, often require -detailed synopses and explanations for their works, in spite of which -the meaning of them often remains lost in the murk of darkest obscurity. -I remember once asking Fokine to supply a synopsis of one of his new -works for programme purposes. I shall not forget his reply: “No synopsis -is needed for my ballets. My ballets unfold their stories on the stage. -There is never any doubt as to what they say.” - -I have visited Vera Petrovna Fokine in the castle on the Hudson where -she lives in lonely nostalgia. But it is not quite true that she lives -alone; for she lives with the precious memory of a great love, a -tremendous reputation, the memory of a great artist, the artist who -created _Les Sylphides_, _Prince Igor_, and _Petroushka_. - - - - -7. Ballet Reborn In America: -W. De Basil and His -Ballets Russes De Monte Carlo - - -The last of the two American tours of Serge de Diaghileff’s Ballets -Russes was during the season 1916-1917. - -The last American tour of Anna Pavlova and her company was during the -season 1925-1926. - -Serge Diaghileff died at Venice, on 19th August, 1929. - -Anna Pavlova died at The Hague, on 23rd January, 1931. - -W. de Basil’s Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo gave their first American -performances at the St. James Theatre, New York, on 21st December, 1933. - -Such ballet as America saw between Pavlova’s last performance in 1926 -and the first de Basil performance in 1933, may be briefly stated. - -From 1924 to 1927, in Chicago, there was the Chicago Allied Arts, -sometimes described as the first “ballet theatre” in the United States, -sparked by Adolph Bolm. - -In 1926 and 1927, there were a few sporadic performances by Mikhail -Mordkin and his Russian Ballet Company, which included Xenia Macletzova, -Vera Nemtchinova, Hilda Butsova, and Pierre Vladimiroff. - -From 1928 to 1931, Leonide Massine staged weekly ballet productions at -the Roxy Theatre, in New York, including a full-length _Schéhérazade_, -with four performances daily, Massine acting both as choreographer and -leading dancer. In 1930, he staged Stravinsky’s _Le Sacre du Printemps_, -for four performances in Philadelphia and two at the Metropolitan Opera -House, in New York, with the collaboration of Leopold Stokowski and the -Philadelphia Orchestra, and with Martha Graham making one of her rare -appearances in ballet, in the leading role. - -That is the story. Hardly a well-tilled ground in which to sow balletic -seed with the hope of a bumper crop. It is not surprising that all my -friends and all my rival colleagues in the field of management -prophesied dire things for me (presumably with different motives) when I -determined on the rebirth of ballet in America in the autumn of 1933. -Their predictions were as mournful as those of Macbeth’s witches. - -The ballet situation in the Western World, after the deaths of -Diaghileff and Pavlova, save for the subsidized ballets at the Paris -Opera and La Scala in Milan, was not vastly different. If you will look -through the files of the European newspapers of the period, you will -find an equally depressing note: “The Swan passes, and ballet with her” -... “The puppet-master is gone; the puppets must be returned to their -boxes” ... and a bit later: “Former Diaghileff dancers booked to appear -in revues and cabaret turns.” ... - -In England, J. Maynard Keynes, Lydia Lopokova, Ninette de Valois, Marie -Rambert, Constant Lambert, and Arnold L. Haskell had formed the Camargo -Society for Sunday night ballet performances, which organization gave -birth to Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club and the Vic Wells Ballet. In 1933, -the glories of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet were hardly dreams, not yet a -glimmer in Ninette de Valois’ eye. - -In Europe there remained only the Diaghileff remains and a vacant -Diaghileff contract at Monte Carlo. This latter deserves a word of -explanation. Diaghileff had acquired the name--the Ballets Russes de -Monte Carlo--thanks to the Prince of Monaco, himself a ballet lover, who -had offered Diaghileff and his company a home and a place to work. - -René Blum, an intellectual French gentleman of deep culture and fine -taste, took over the unexpired Diaghileff Monte Carlo contract. Blum was -at hand for, at the time of Diaghileff’s death, he was at the head of -the dramatic theatre at Monte Carlo. In fulfilment of the Diaghileff -contract, for a time Blum booked such itinerant ballet groups as he -could. Then, in 1931, he organized his own Ballets Russes de Monte -Carlo. George Balanchine, who had staged some of the last of the -Diaghileff works, became the first choreographer for the new company. -For the Monte Carlo repertoire, he created three works. To it, from -Paris, he brought two of the soon-to-become-famous “baby ballerinas,” -Irina Baronova and Tamara Toumanova, both from the classroom of Olga -Preobrajenska. - -Early in 1932, René Blum joined forces with one of the most curious -personalities that modern ballet has turned up, in the person of a -gentleman who wished to be known as Col. W. de Basil. - -De Basil had had a ballet company of sorts for some time. I first ran -into him in Paris, shortly after Diaghileff’s death, where he had allied -himself with Prince Zeretelli’s Russian Opera Company; and again in -London, where the Lionel Powell management, in association with the -Imperial League of Opera, had given them a season of combined opera and -ballet at the old Lyceum Theatre. With ballets by Boris Romanoff and -Bronislava Nijinska, de Basil had toured his little troupe around Europe -in buses, living from hand to mouth; had turned up for a season at Monte -Carlo, at René Blum’s invitation. That did it. De Basil worked out a -deal with Blum, whereby de Basil became a joint managing director of the -combined companies, now under the title of Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. -A season was given in the summer of 1932, in Paris, at the _Théâtre des -Champs Elysées_. - -It was there I first saw the new company. It was then I took the plunge. -I negotiated. I signed them for a visit to the American continent. A -book could be devoted to these negotiations alone. It would not be -believable; it would fail to pass every test of credibility ever -devised. - -I feel that this is the point at which to digress for a moment, in order -to sketch in a line drawing of de Basil, with some of the shadows and -some of the substance. Unless I do, no reader will be able to understand -why I once contemplated a book to be called _To Hell With Ballet_! - -To begin with, de Basil was a Cossack and a Caucasian. Neither term -carries with it any connotation of gentleness or sensitivity. De Basil -was one of the last persons in the world you would expect to find at the -head of an organization devoted to the development of the gentle, lyric -art of the ballet. Two more dissimilar partners in an artistic venture -than de Basil and Blum could not be found. - -René Blum, the gentle, cultured intellectual, was a genuine artist: -amiable, courteous, and fully deserving of the often misused phrase--a -man of the world. His alliance with de Basil was foredoomed to failure; -for one of René Blum’s outstanding characteristics was a passion to -avoid arguments, discussions, scandals, troubles of any sort. Blum -commanded the highest respect from his artists and associates; but they -never feared him. To them he was the kind, understanding friend to whom -they might run with their troubles and problems. Blum’s sensitivity was -such that he would run from de Basil as one would try to escape a -plague. René Blum, you would say, was, perhaps, the ivory-tower -dilettante. You would be wrong. René Blum gave the lie to this during -the war by revealing himself a man of heroic stature. On the occupation -of France, he was in grave danger, since he was a Jew, and the brother -of Léon Blum, the Socialist leader, great French patriot and one-time -Premier. René, however, was safely and securely out of the country. But -he, too, was a passionate lover of France. France, he felt, needed him. -Tossing aside his own safety, he returned to his beloved country, to -share its fate. His son, who was the apple of his father’s eye, joined -the Maquis; was killed fighting the Nazis. René Blum was the victim of -Nazi persecution. - -Let us look for a moment at the background of Blum’s ballet -collaborator. The “Colonel” was born Vassily Grigorievitch Voskresensky. -In his native _milieu_ he had some sort of police-military career. -Although he insisted on the title “Colonel,” he certainly never attained -that rank in the Tsar’s army. He was a lieutenant in the _Gendarmes_. -After the revolution, in 1918, he turned up as a captain with -Bicherakoff’s Cossacks. Later on he turned naval and operated in the -Black Sea. - -There is an interval in de Basil’s life that has never been entirely -filled in with complete accuracy: the period immediately following his -flight and escape from Russia. The most credible of the legends -surrounding this period is that he sold motor-cars in Italy. Eventually, -he turned up in Paris, where my trail picked him up at a concert agency -called _Zerbaseff_, which concerned itself with finding jobs for refugee -artists. It was then he called himself de Basil. - -At the time I met him, he had a Caucasian partner, the Prince Zeretelli -whom I have mentioned, and who was a one-time manager of the People’s -Theatre, in St. Petersburg. It was this partnership that brought forth -the _Ballet and Opéra Russe de Paris_, which gave seasons at the -_Théâtre des Champs Elysées_, in Paris, and, as I have mentioned, at the -Lyceum Theatre, in London. - -Let me first set down the man’s virtues. De Basil had great charm. By -that I do not necessarily mean he was charming. His charm was something -he could turn on at will, like a tap, usually when he was in a tight -spot. More than once it helped him out of deep holes, and sticky ones. -He had an inexhaustible fount of energy, could drive himself and others; -never seemed to need sleep; and, aiming at a highly desired personal -goal, had unending patience. With true oriental passivity, he could -wait. He had undaunted courage; needless, reckless courage, in my -opinion; a stupid courage compounded often out of equal parts of -stubbornness and sheer bravado. He was a born organizer. He intuitively -possessed a flair for the theatre: a flair without knowledge. He could -be an excellent host; he was a _cordon bleu_ cook. He was generous, he -was simple in his tastes. - -Yet, with all these virtues, de Basil was, at the same time, one of the -most difficult human beings I have ever encountered in a lifetime of -management. This tall, gaunt, cadaver of a man had a powerful physique, -a dead-pan face, and a pair of cold, astigmatic eyes, before which -rested thick-lensed spectacles. He had all the makings of a dictator. -Like his countryman, Joseph Stalin, he was completely impossible as a -collaborator. He was a born intriguer, and delighted in surrounding -himself with scheming characters. During my career I have met scheming -characters who, nevertheless, have had certain positive virtues: they -succeeded in getting things done. De Basil’s scheming characters -consisted of lawyers, hacks, amateur managers, brokers, without -exception third-rate people who damaged and destroyed. - -It would be an act of great injustice to call de Basil stupid. He was as -shrewd an article as one could expect to meet amongst all the lads who -have tried to sell the unwary stranger the Brooklyn Bridge, the Capitol -at Washington, or the Houses of Parliament. - -De Basil deliberately engaged this motley crew of hangers-on, since his -Caucasian Machiavellism was such that he loved to pit them one against -the other, to use them to build up an operetta atmosphere of cheap -intrigue that I felt sure had not hitherto existed save in the Graustark -type of fiction. De Basil used them to irritate and annoy. He would -dispatch them abroad in his company simply to stir up trouble, to form -cliques: for purposes of _chantage_; he would order them into whispered -colloquies in corners, alternately wearing knowing looks and glum -visages. De Basil and his entire entourage lived in a world of intrigue -of their own deliberate making. His fussy, busy little cohorts cost him -money he did not have, and raised such continuous hell that the wonder -is the company held together as long as it did. - -De Basil’s unholy joy would come from creating, through these henchmen, -a nasty situation and then stepping in to pull a string here, jerk a -cord there, he would save the situation, thus becoming the hero of the -moment. - -I shall have more to say on the subject of the “Colonel” before this -tale is told. - -Now, with the contracts signed for the first American visit, we were on -our honeymoon. Meanwhile, however, the picture of what I had agreed to -bring was changing. Leonide Massine, his stint at the Roxy Theatre in -New York completed, had met a former Broadway manager, E. Ray Goetz. -Together they had succeeded in raising some money and planned with it to -buy the entire Diaghileff properties. With this stock in hand, Massine -caught up with de Basil, who was barnstorming through the Low Countries -with his company in trucks and buses; and the two of them pooled -resources. Although Massine’s purchase plan did not go through entirely, -because much of the Diaghileff material had disappeared through lawsuits -and other claims, nevertheless Massine was able to deliver a sizable -portion of it. - -As the direct result of Massine’s appointment as artistic director, a -number of things happened. First of all, Balanchine quit, and formed a -short-lived company in France, _Les Ballets 1933_, the history of which -is not germane to this story. Before he left, however, Balanchine had -created three works for the de Basil-Blum Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo: -_La Concurrence_, _Le Cotillon_, and _Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme_. -Massine, as his first task, staged _Jeux d’Enfants_ and _Les Plages_; -restaged three of his earlier works, _The Three-Cornered Hat_, _Le Beau -Danube_ and _Scuola di Ballo_; and the first of his epoch-making -symphonic ballets, _Les Présages_, to Tchaikowsky’s Fifth Symphony. -These were combined with a number of older works from the Diaghileff -repertoire, including the three Fokine masterpieces: _Les Sylphides_, -_Prince Igor_, and _Petroushka_. - -Massine had strengthened the company. There were the former Diaghileff -_régisseur general_, Serge Grigorieff, of long memory, as stage -director; his wife, Lubov Tchernicheva, a leading Diaghileff figure, for -dramatic roles; the last Diaghileff _ballerina_, Alexandra Danilova, to -give stability to the three “baby ballerinas”: Baronova, Toumanova, and -Tatiana Riabouchinska, the last from Kchessinska’s private studio, by -way of Nikita Balieff’s _Chauve Souris_, where she had been dancing. -There was the intriguing Nina Verchinina, a “different” type of dancer. -There were talented lesser ladies: Eugenia Delarova, Lubov Rostova; a -group of English girls masquerading under Russian names. Among the men, -in addition to Massine, there were Leon Woizikovsky, David Lichine, -Roman Jasinsky, Paul Petroff, Yurek Shabalevsky, and André Eglevsky. - -A successful breaking-in season was given at the Alhambra Theatre, in -London’s Leicester Square. While this was in progress, we set about at -the most necessary and vastly important business of trying to build a -public for ballet in America, for this is a ballet impresario’s first -job. That original publicity campaign was, in its way, history-making. -It took a considerable bit of organizing. No field was overlooked. In -addition to spreading the gospel of ballet, there was a Sponsors’ -Committee, headed by the Grand Duchess Marie and Otto H. Kahn. Prince -Serge Obolensky was an ever-present source of help. - -It was a chilly and fairly raw December morning in 1933 when I clambered -aboard the cutter at the Battery, to go down the Bay to board the ship -at Quarantine. It is a morning I shall not soon forget. I was in ballet -up to my neck; and I loved it. There have been days and nights in the -succeeding two decades when I have seriously played with the notion of -what life might have been like if I had not gone aboard (and overboard) -that December morning. - -I took with me the traditional Russian welcome: a tray of bread, wrapped -in a white linen serviette, a little bowl of salt, which I offered to de -Basil. I was careful to see that the reporters and camera men were in -place when I did it. De Basil’s poker-face actually smiled as I handed -him the tray, uncovered the bread, poured the salt. But only for a -moment. A Russian word in greeting, and then there was an immediate -demand from him to see the theatre. We were on our way. Driving uptown -to the St. James Theatre, the arguments commenced. There was the matter -of the programme. There was the matter of the size of de Basil’s name; -the question of the relative size of the artists’ names; the type-face; -the order in which they should be listed; what was to become the -everlasting arguments over repertoire and casting. But I was in it, now. - -I believed in the “star” system--not because I believe the system to be -a perfect one, by any means, but because the American public, which had -been without any major ballet company for eight years, and which had had -practically no ballet activity, had to be attracted and arrested by -something more than an unknown and heretofore unheard-of company and the -photograph of a not particularly photogenic ex-Cossack. - -The pre-Christmas _première_ at the St. James Theatre, on the night of -21st December, marked the beginning of a new epoch in ballet, and in my -career. It was going to be a long pull, an uphill struggle. I knew that. -The opening night audience was brilliant; the house was packed, -enthusiastic. But the advance sale at the box-office was anything but -encouraging. Diaghileff had failed in America. The losses of his two -seasons, paid for by Otto H. Kahn, ran close to a half-million dollars. -I was on my own. Since readers are as human as I am, perhaps they will -forgive my pardonable pride, the pride I felt sixteen years later, on -reading the historian George Amberg’s comment: “If it had not been for -Mr. Hurok’s resourceful management and promotion, de Basil would -certainly not have succeeded where Diaghileff failed.” - -But I am anticipating. The opening programme consisted of _La -Concurrence_, _Les Présages_, and _Le Beau Danube_. Toumanova in the -first; Baronova and Lichine in the second; Massine, Danilova, and -Riabouchinska in the third. It was a night. The next day’s press was -excellent. It was John Martin, with what I felt was an anti-Diaghileff -bias, who offered some reservations. - -Following the opening performance, I gave the first of my many ballet -suppers, this one at the Savoy-Plaza. It was very gala. The Sponsors’ -Committee turned up _en masse_. White-gloved waiters served, among other -things, super hot dogs, as a native gesture to the visitors from -overseas. The “baby ballerinas” looked as if they should have been in -bed. That is, two of them did. One of them was missing, and there was -some concern as to what could have happened to Tamara Toumanova. -However, there was no necessity for concern for Tamara, since she, with -her sense of the theatre, the theatrical, and the main chance, made a -late and quite theatrical entry, with Paul D. Cravath on one arm and -Otto H. Kahn on the other. The new era in ballet was inaugurated by -these two distinguished gentlemen and patrons of the arts sipping -champagne from a ballet slipper especially made for the occasion by a -leading Fifth Avenue bootmaker. - -The opening a matter of history, the publicity department went into -action at double the record-breaking pace at which they had been -functioning for weeks. The resulting press coverage was overwhelming and -national. - -But, however gratifying all this may have been, I had my troubles, and -they increased daily. The publicity simply could not please all the -people all the time. I mean the ballet people, of course. There was -always the eternally dissatisfied de Basil. In addition, there were -three fathers, nineteen mothers, and one sister-in-law to be satisfied. -Then there were daily casting problems. The publicity department was -giving the press what it wanted: feature stories on ballet, on artists, -on the daily life of the dancer. It was then de Basil determined that -all publicity must be centered on his own august person. He had a point -of view, I must admit. Dancers were here today, gone tomorrow. De Basil -and his ballet remained. But no newspaper is interested in running -repeated photographs of a dour, bespectacled male. They wanted “leg -art.” When de Basil insisted that he be photographed, the camera men -would “shoot” him with a filmless or plateless camera. - -In addition to having to contend with what threatened to become a -chronic and incurable case of Basildiaghileffitis, I was losing a potful -of money. The St. James Theatre is no better than any other Broadway -house as a home for ballet. The stage is far too small either to display -the décor or to permit dancers to move freely. The auditorium, even if -filled to capacity, cannot meet ballet expenses. We were not playing to -anything like capacity. There was a tour booked; but, thanks to a “stop -clause” in the theatre contract--a figure above which the attraction -must continue at the theatre--we could not leave. We had made the “stop -clause” too low. There was only one thing to do in order to protect the -tour. I decided to divide the company into two companies. - -Forced to fulfil two sets of obligations at the end of the first month -at the St. James Theatre, I opened a tour in Reading, Pennsylvania, with -Massine, Danilova, Toumanova, the larger part of the _corps de ballet_, -Efrem Kurtz conducting the orchestra, and all of the ballets in the -repertoire except three. - -The company remaining at the St. James had Baronova, Riabouchinska, -Lichine, and Woizikovsky, with the corps augmented by New York dancers, -and Antal Dorati as conductor. This company gave eight performances -weekly of the Fokine masterpieces, _Les Sylphides_, _Petroushka_, and -_Prince Igor_. The steadily increasing public did not seem to mind. - -The response on the road and in New York was surprisingly good. When we -finally left New York, the two groups merged, and we played a second -Chicago engagement, at the marvellous old Auditorium Theatre. All were -there, save for Grigorieff, Alexandra Danilova, and Dorati, who returned -to Monte Carlo to fulfil de Basil’s contract with Blum for a spring -season in Monaco. - -There was a brief spring season in New York, preceded by a week at the -Forrest Theatre in Philadelphia, where Massine’s first “American” ballet -had its dress rehearsals and first performances. This was _Union -Pacific_, a four-scened work in which Massine had the collaboration of -the distinguished American poet, Archibald MacLeish, on the story; -Albert Johnson, on the settings; Irene Sharaff, with costumes; and a -score, based on American folk-tunes, by Nicholas Nabokoff. It was the -first Russian ballet attempt to deal with the native American scene and -material, treating the theme of the building of the first -transcontinental railway. - -We gave its first performance on the night of April 6, 1934, and the -cast included Massine himself, his wife Eugenia Delarova, Irina -Baronova, Sono Osato, David Lichine, and André Eglevsky, in the central -roles. - -It was Massine’s prodigious Barman’s dance that proved to be the -highlight of the work. - -The balance of the company eventually returned to Europe for their -summer seasons in London and Paris, and to stage new productions. Back -they came in the autumn for another tour. The problem of a proper -theatre for ballet in New York had not been solved; so I took the -company from Europe to Mexico City for an engagement at the newly -remodeled Palacio des Bellas Artes. There were problems galore. Once -again I fell back on my right-hand-bower, Mae Frohman, rushed her to -Mexico to clear them. Back from Mexico by boat to New York, with a -hurried transfer for trains to Toronto, and a long coast-to-coast tour. -The New York engagement that season was brief: five performances only. -The only theatre available was the Majestic, whose stage is no less -cramped, and whose auditorium provides no illusion. During this brief -season a new work by Massine was presented: _Jardin Public_ (_Public -Garden_). It was based on a fragment from André Gide’s _The -Counterfeiters_, in a scenario by Massine and Vladimir Dukelsky (Vernon -Duke) who supplied the music. It was not one of Massine’s most -successful works by any means. But the _première_ did provide an amusing -incident. Danilova was cast as a wealthy woman; Massine and Toumanova as -The Poor Couple. On the opening night, Danilova, who showed her wealthy -status by dancing a particularly lively rhumba, lost her underpants -while dancing in the center of the stage. The contretemps she carried -off with great aplomb. But, on her exit, she did not carry off the -underwear, which remained in the center of the stage as a large colored -blob. Danilova’s exit was followed by the entrance of Toumanova and -Massine, clad in rags as befitted The Poor Couple. Toumanova, fixing her -eyes on the offending lingerie, picked it up, examined it critically, -and then, as if it were something from the nether world and quite -unspeakable, dramatically hurled it off-stage in an attitude of utter -disgust, as if it were a symbol of the thing she most detested: wealth. - -Although the five performances were sold out, we could not cover our -expenses. In the autumn of 1935, when the company returned for its third -season, we were able to bring Ballet to the Metropolitan Opera House -and, for the first time since its rebirth in America, the public really -saw it at its best. - -During this time we had made substantial additions to the repertoire: -Massine’s second and third symphonic ballets, the Brahms _Choreartium_, -and the Berlioz _Symphonie Fantastique_; Nijinska’s _The Hundred -Kisses_. In addition to Fokine’s new non-operatic version of _Le Coq -d’Or_, which I have mentioned, there were added Fokine’s _Schéhérazade_, -_The Afternoon of a Faun_, and Nijinsky’s _Le Spectre de la Rose_. - -The gross takings of the fourth American season of the de Basil company -reached round a million dollars. - -By this time matters were coming to a head. All was not, by any means, -well in ballet. Massine, by this time, was at swords’ points with de -Basil. I was irritated, bored, fatigued, worn out with him and his -entourage. Since de Basil had lost his Monte Carlo connection, he had -also lost touch with the artistic thought that had served as a stimulus -to creation. - -It is necessary for me to make another digression at this point. The -opening chapter of the New Testament is, as the reader will remember, a -geneological one, with a formidable list of “begats.” It seems to me the -course of wisdom to try to clear up, if I can, the “begats” of Russian -Ballet since the day on which I first allied myself with it. I shall try -to disentangle them for the sake of the reader’s better understanding. -There were so many similar names, artists moving from one company to -another, ballets appearing in the repertoires of more than one -organization. - -In this saga, I have called this chapter “W. de Basil and his Ballets -Russes de Monte Carlo.” It is a convenient handle. The confusion that -was so characteristic of the man de Basil, was intensified by the fact -that the “Colonel” changed the name of the company at least a half-dozen -times during our association. To attempt to go into all the involved -reasons for these chameleon-like changes would simply add to the -confusion, and would, I feel, be boring. Let me, for the sake of -conciseness and, I hope, the reader’s illumination, list the six -changes: - -In 1932, it was _Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo_. - -From 1933 to 1936, it was _Monte Carlo Ballet Russe_. - -In 1937, it was _Colonel W. de Basil’s Ballet Russe_. - -In 1938, it was _Covent Garden Ballet Russe_. - -In 1939, it was _Educational Ballets_, Ltd. - -From 1940 until its demise, it was _Original Ballet Russe_. - -I have said earlier that the alliance between René Blum and de Basil was -foredoomed to failure. The split between them came in 1936, both as a -result of incompatibility and of de Basil’s preoccupation with the -United States to the exclusion of any Monte Carlo interest. Blum had a -greater interest in Monte Carlo, with which, to be sure, he had a -contract. So it was not surprising that René Blum organized a new Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo, with Michel Fokine as choreographer. - -De Basil and his methods became increasingly aggravating. His chicanery, -his eternal battling, above all, his overweening obsession about the -size of his name in the display advertising, were sometimes almost -unbearable. He carried a pocket-rule with him and would go about cities -measuring the words “Col. W. de Basil.” Now electric light letters vary -in size in the various cities, and there is no way of changing them -without having new letters made or purchased at considerable expense and -trouble. I remember a scene in Detroit, where de Basil became so -obnoxious that the company manager and I climbed to the roof of the -theatre and took down the sign with our own hands, in order to save us -from further annoyance that day. - -All of this accumulated irritation added up to an increasing conviction -that life was too short to continue this sort of thing indefinitely, -despite my love for and my interest and faith in ballet both as an art -and as a popular form of entertainment. - -As I have said, Leonide Massine’s difficulties and relations with de -Basil were becoming so strained that each performance became an ordeal. -I never knew when an explosion might occur. There were many points of -difference between Massine and de Basil. The chief bone of contention -was the matter of artistic direction. Massine’s contract with de Basil -was approaching its expiration date. De Basil was badgering him to sign -a new one. Massine steadfastly refused to negotiate unless de Basil -would assure him, in the contract, the title and powers of Artistic -Director. De Basil as steadfastly refused, and insisted on retaining the -powers of artistic direction for himself. - -There was, as is always the case in Russian Ballet, a good deal of -side-taking. Granted that, for his purposes, de Basil’s insistence on -keeping all controls over his company in his own hands, had a point. But -let us also regard the issue from the point of view of ability and -knowledge, the prime qualifications for the post. From the portrait I -have given, the reader will gather the extent of the “Colonel’s” -qualifications. This would seem to be the time and place for a sketch of -Leonide Massine, as I know him. - - * * * * * - -One day there must be a book written about Massine. Not that there is -not already a considerable literature dealing with him; but there is yet -to appear a work that has done him anything like justice. For me to -attempt more than a line drawing would be presumptuous and manifestly -unjust; but a sketch is demanded. - -Leonide Massine was born in Moscow in 1894. He graduated from the Moscow -Imperial School in 1912. It was a year later that Diaghileff, visiting -Moscow, was taken by Poliakov, the famous Moscow dramatic critic, to see -a play at the Ostrovsky Theatre. It happened that Massine was appearing -in the play in the role of a servant. There is no record as to what -Diaghileff thought of the play or the performance. The one fact that -emerges from this chance evening Diaghileff spent at a theatre is that -he was impressed by the manner in which the unknown boy, Massine, -carried a tray. Diaghileff asked Poliakov to take him back-stage and -introduce him to the talented young mime. - -Artistically, Diaghileff was in the process of moving onward from the -exclusively Russian tradition that was represented by Benois, Bakst, -Stravinsky, and Fokine. He was moving towards a greater -internationalism, a broader cosmopolitanism. He was in need of a -creative personality who would carry forward this wider concept. -Diaghileff’s intuition told him this seventeen-year-old boy with the -enormous brown eyes was the person. Diaghileff took Massine from Moscow -into his company and fashioned him into a present-day Pygmalion. -Diaghileff took over the boy’s artistic education. As part of a -deliberate plan, Diaghileff pushed a willing pupil into close contact -with the world of modern painting and music, with the finest minds of -the period. Picasso, Larionov, Stravinsky, and de Falla became his -mentors; libraries, museums, concert halls, his classrooms. The result -was a great cosmopolitan choreographer, perhaps the greatest living -today. - -An American citizen, he will always have strong Russian roots. Some of -his best works are Russian ballets; but he is no slavish nationalist. He -is as much at home in the cultures of Italy, Scotland, or Spain. His was -a precocious genius, discovered by Diaghileff’s intuition. Massine began -at the top, and has remained there. - -Massine is difficult to know, for he is shy, and he has a great wall of -natural reserve that takes a long time to penetrate. Once penetrated, it -is possible to experience one of life’s greater satisfactions in the -conversation, the intelligence, the knowledge of the mature Massine. -Massine’s poise and sense of order never leave him. There is a -meticulousness about him and a neatness that indicate the possession of -an orderly mind. Everything he reads which he feels may be of even the -slightest value to him at some future time, he preserves in large -clipping-books. About him is a calm that is exceptional in a Russian--a -calm that is exceptional in any one associated with the dance, where the -habit is to shout as loudly as possible at the slightest provocation, or -no provocation at all, and to become violently excited and agitated over -the most unimportant things. There is about him none of the superficial -“temperament” too often assumed to be the prerogative of artists. He has -a sharp sense of humor; but it is a sense of humor that is keen and dry. -His wit can be sharp and extremely cutting. He has not always been -loved by his associates; but very few of them have ever really known -him. - -Filled with fire, energy, enthusiasm, his constant desire is to build -something better. - -As a dancer, he still dances, as no one else, the Miller in _The -Three-Cornered Hat_ and the Can Can Dancer in _La Boutique Fantasque_. -Personally, I prefer only Massine in the roles he has created for -himself. No other dancer can approach him in these. - -I have mentioned his long sojourn at the Roxy Theatre, in New York. -Under the conditions imposed--a new work to be staged weekly, to dance -four times a day--masterpieces were obviously impossible; but the work -he did was of vast importance in building a dance public in New York. - -There are those today who chide Massine for his all too frequent -re-creations of his old pieces, and lay it to Massine’s obsession with -money. It is true, Massine does have a concern for money. But, after -all, he has a wife, two growing children, and other responsibilities. -However, I do not believe finance is the sole reason, and I, for one, -wish he would not be eternally reproducing his old works. _Le Beau -Danube_ will live forever as one of the finest _genre_ works of all -time. But it must be properly done. I remember, to my sorrow, seeing a -recent production of the _Danube_ Massine staged in Paris, with Roland -Petit--with a company of only fourteen dancers. Further comment is not -required. - -I have a deep and abiding affection for Leonide Massine as a person--an -affection that is very deep and real. As an artist, I believe he is -still the greatest individual personality in ballet today--a -choreographer of deep knowledge, imagination, and ability. - -The composer of some sixty-odd ballets, it is the most imposing record -in modern ballet’s history, perfectly amazing productivity. No one but -himself is capable of restoring them. When produced or restaged without -his fine hand, they are a shambles. - -I should like to offer my friend, Leonide Massine, a hope that springs -from my heart. I can only urge him, for his own good and for the good of -ballet which needs him, to rest for a time on his beautiful island in -the Mediterranean and to spend the time there in study and reflection, -crystallizing his ideas. Then he will bring to us new and striking -creations that will come like a refreshing breeze clearing the murky -atmosphere of much of our contemporary ballet scene. If Massine would -only relax his constant drive and follow my suggestion, the real Massine -would emerge. - -After a summer on his island, he gave us one of his most recent -creations (1952), an Umbrian Passion Play, _Laudes Evangelli_, to -religious music of the Middle Ages. An interesting side-light on it is -that the very first ballet he had in mind at the beginning of the -Diaghileff association was based on the same idea. - -At the height of his maturity, there is no indication of age in Massine. -Age, after all, is merely a question of how old one feels. I remember, -in the later days of his ballet, shortly before his death, Diaghileff -was planning a special gala performance. At a conference of his staff, -he suggested inviting Pavlova to appear. Some of his advisers countered -the proposal with the suggestion that Pavlova was too old. My reply was -brief and to the point. - -“Pavlova will never age,” I said. “Some people are old at twenty. But -Pavlova, never; for genius never looks at the calendar.” - -What was true of Pavlova, is equally true of Leonide Massine. - - * * * * * - -The growth, the development, and the appreciation of ballet in America -are the result of a number of things, both individually and in -combination. There may exist a variety of opinions on the subject, but -one thing, I know, is certain: the present state of ballet in America is -not the result of chance. In 1933 I had signed a contract with de Basil -to bring ballet to America; yet there was an element of chance involved -in that my publicity director, vacationing in Europe, saw a performance -of the de Basil company, and spontaneously cabled me an expression of -his enthusiasm. Since this employee was not a balletomane in any sense -of the word, his message served to intensify my conviction that then was -the time to go forward with my determination to follow my intuition. -Here ends any element of chance. - -The basic repertoire of the first years was an extension of the -Diaghileff artistic policies. The repertoire included not only revivals -from the Diaghileff repertoire, but also new, forward-looking creations. -I was certain that a sound and orthodox repertoire was an essential for -establishing a genuine ballet audience in this country. - -In 1933, there was no ballet audience. It was something that had to be -created and developed through every medium possible. I had a two-fold -responsibility--because I loved ballet with a love that amounted to a -passion, and because I had a tremendous financial burden which I carried -single-handed, without the aid of any Maecenas; I had to make ballet -successful; in doing so, willy-nilly I had the responsibility of forming -a taste where no aesthetic existed. - -For two decades I have had criticism levelled at me from certain places, -criticism directed chiefly at my policies in ballet; I have been -criticized for my insistence on certain types of ballets in the -repertoires of the companies I have managed, and for my belief in -adaptations and varying applications of what is known as the “star” -system. The only possible answer is that I have been proven right. No -other system has succeeded in bringing people to ballet or in bringing -ballet to the people. - -It will not be out of place at this time to note the repertoire of the -de Basil company at the time of the breakdown of the relations between -Massine and de Basil, which may be said to be the period of the Massine -artistic direction and influence on the de Basil companies, from 1933 to -1937. - -There were, if my computation is correct, and I have checked the matter -with some care, a total of forty works, with thirty-four of them -actively in the repertoire. Of these, there were two sound classics -stemming from the Imperial Russian Ballet, creations by Marius Petipa -and Lev Ivanoff: _Swan Lake_, in the one-act abbreviation; and _Aurora’s -Wedding_, the last _divertissement_ act of _The Sleeping Beauty_ or _The -Sleeping Princess_, both, of course, to the music of Tchaikowsky. There -were three Russian works, i.e., ballets on Russian subjects: -Stravinsky’s _Petroushka_; the _Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor_; and -_Le Coq d’Or_, a purely balletic and entertaining spectacle, with the -Rimsky-Korsakoff music rearranged for ballet by Tcherepnine. All of the -foregoing were by Michel Fokine. Eight other Fokine works were included, -all originally produced by him for Diaghileff: three, which might be -called exotic works--_Cléopâtre_, to the music of Arensky and others; -_Thamar_, to the music of Balakireff; and _Schéhérazade_, to the -Rimsky-Korsakoff tone-poem. Five ballets typifying the Romantic -Revolution: Stravinsky’s _Firebird_; _Carnaval_ and _Papillons_, both by -Robert Schumann; _Le Spectre de la Rose_, to the familiar Weber score; -that greatest of all romantic works, _Les Sylphides_, the Chopin -“romantic reverie.” - -There were two works by George Balanchine: _Le Cotillon_ and _La -Concurrence_, the former to music by Chabrier, the latter to music by -Auric. A third Balanchine work, _Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme_, was -necessarily dropped from the repertoire because the costumes were -destroyed by fire. - -The largest contributor by far to the de Basil repertoire was Massine -himself. No less than seventeen of the thirty-four works regularly -presented, that is, fifty per-cent, were by this prodigious creator. -Eight of these were originally staged by Massine for Diaghileff; two -were revivals of works he produced for Count Etienne de Beaumont, in -Paris, in 1932. Seven were original creations for the de Basil company. -The Diaghileff creations, in revival--in the order of their first -making--were: _The Midnight Sun_, to music from Rimsky-Korsakoff’s _The -Snow Maiden_; _Russian Folk Tales_, music by Liadov; The _Good-Humored -Ladies_, to the Scarlatti-Tommasini score; Manuel de Falla’s _The -Three-Cornered Hat_; _The Fantastic Toyshop_, to Rossini melodies; -George Auric’s _Les Matelots: Cimarosiana_; Vittorio Rieti’s _The Ball_. - -The two Beaumont works: _Le Beau Danube_, and the Boccherini _Scuola di -Ballo_. - -The creations for the de Basil company: the three symphonic -ballets--_Les Présages_, (Tchaikowsky’s Fifth); _Choreartium_, (Brahms’s -Fourth); _La Symphonie Fantastique_, (Berlioz). Also _Children’s Games_ -(Bizet); _Beach_ (Jean Francaix); _Union Pacific_ (Nicholas Nabokoff); -and _Jardin Public_ (Dukelsky). - -Two other choreographers round out the list. The young David Lichine -contributed four; Bronislava Nijinska, two. The Lichine works: -Tchaikowsky’s _Francesca da Rimini_ and _La Pavillon_, to Borodin’s -music for strings, arranged by Antal Dorati. The others, produced in -Europe, were so unsuccessful I could not bring them to America: -_Nocturne_, a slight work utilising some of Mendelssohn’s _Midsummer -Night’s Dream_ music, and _Les Imaginaires_, to a score by George Auric. - -The Nijinska works: _The Hundred Kisses_, to a commissioned score by -Baron Frederic d’Erlanger; the _Danses Slaves et Tsiganes_, from the -Dargomijhky opera _Roussalka_; and a revival of that great -Stravinsky-Nijinska work, _Les Noces_, which, for practical reasons, I -was able to give only at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York. - -The following painters and designers collaborated on the scenery and -costumes: Oliver Messel, Cecil Beaton, Etienne de Beaumont, Nathalie -Gontcharova, Korovin, Pierre Hugo, Jean Lurçat, Albert Johnson, Irene -Sharaff, Eugene Lourie, Raoul Dufy, André Masson, Joan Miro, Polunin, -Chirico, José Maria Sert, Pruna, André Derain, Picasso, Bakst, -Larionoff, Alexandre Benois, Nicholas Roerich, Mstislav Doboujinsky. - -For the sake of the record, as the company recedes into the mists of -time, let me list its chief personnel during this period: Leonide -Massine, ballet-master and chief male dancer; Alexandra Danilova, Irina -Baronova, Tamara Toumanova, Tatiana Riabouchinska, _ballerinas_; Lubov -Tchernicheva, Olga Morosova, Nina Verchinina, Lubov Rostova, Tamara -Grigorieva, Eugenia Delarova, Vera Zorina, Sono Osato, Leon Woizikovsky, -David Lichine, Yurek Shabalevsky, Paul Petroff, André Eglevsky, and -Roman Jasinsky, soloists; Serge Grigorieff, _régisseur_. - -In our spreading of the gospel of ballet, emphasis was laid on the -following: Ballet, repertoire, personnel. Since there were no “stars” -whose names at the time carried any box-office weight or had any -recognizable association, the concentration was on the “baby -ballerinas,” Baronova, Toumanova, Riabouchinska, all of whom were young -dancers of fine training and exceptional talents. They grew as artists -before our eyes. They also grew up. They had an unparalleled success. -They also had their imperfections, but it was a satisfaction to watch -their progress. - -Ballet was by way of being established in America’s cultural and -entertainment life by the end of the fourth de Basil season. On the -financial side, that fourth season’s gross business passed the million -dollar mark; artistically, deterioration had set in. With the feud -between Massine and de Basil irreconcilable, there was no sound artistic -policy possible, no authoritative direction. The situation was as if two -rival directors would have stood on either side of the proscenium arch, -one countermanding every order given by the other. The personnel of the -company was lining up in support of one or the other; factionism was -rampant. Performances suffered. - -Massine, meanwhile realizing the hopelessness of the situation so far as -he was concerned, cast about for possible interested backers in a -balletic venture of his own, where he could exercise his own talents and -authority. He succeeded in interesting a number of highly solvent ballet -lovers, chief among whom was Julius Fleischmann, of Cincinnati. - -Just what Fleischmann’s interest in ballet may have been, or what -prompted it, I have not been able to determine. At any rate, it was a -fresh, new interest. A man of culture and sensitivity, he was something -of a dilettante and a cosmopolitan. When he was at home, it was on his -estate in Cincinnati. His business interests, i.e., the sources that -provided him with the means to pursue his artistic occupations, required -no attention on his part. - -Together with other persons of means and leisure, a corporation was -formed under the name Universal Art. The corporation turned over the -artistic direction, both in name and fact, to Massine, and he was on his -own to choose the policy, the repertoire, and the personnel for a new -company. - -Ballet in America was on the horns of a dilemma. And so was I. - - - - -8. Revolution and Counter-revolution: -Leonide Massine and the New -Ballet Russe De Monte Carlo - - -In order that the reader may have a sense of continuity, I feel he -should be supplied with a bit of the background and a brief fill-in on -what had been happening meanwhile at Monte Carlo. - -I have pointed out that de Basil’s preoccupation with London and America -had soon left his collaborator, René Blum, without a ballet company with -which to fulfil his contractual obligations to the Principality of -Monaco. The break between the two came in 1936, when Blum formed a new -company that he called simply Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. - -Blum had the great wisdom and fine taste to engage Michel Fokine as -choreographer. A company, substantial in size, had been engaged, the -leading personnel numbering among its principals some fine dancers known -to American audiences. Nana Gollner, the American _ballerina_, was one -of the leading figures. Others included Vera Nemtchinova, Natalie -Krassovska, Anatole Ouboukhoff, Anatole Vilzak, Jean Yasvinsky, André -Eglevsky, and Michel Panaieff. A repertoire, sparked by Fokine -creations, was in the making. - -Back in America, the prime mover in the financial organization of the -new Massine company was Sergei I. Denham. It is hardly necessary to add -that Denham and de Basil had little in common or that they were, in -fact, arch-enemies. - -Denham had no more previous knowledge of or association with ballet than -de Basil; actually much less. I have been unable to discover the real -source of Denham’s interest in ballet. Born Sergei Ivanovich -Dokouchaieff, in Russia, the son of a merchant, he had escaped the -Revolution by way of China. His career in the United States, before -ballet in the persons of Leonide Massine and Julius Fleischmann swam -into his ken, had been of a mercantile nature, in one business venture -or another, including a stint as an automobile salesman, and another as -a sort of bank manager, none of them connected with the arts, but all of -them bringing him into fringe relations with the substantially solvent. - -No sooner did he find himself in the atmosphere of ballet than he, too, -became infected with Diaghileffitis, a disease that, apparently, attacks -them all, sooner or later. - -It is one of the strange phenomena of ballet I have never been able to -understand. Why is it, I ask myself, that a former merchant, an -ex-policeman, or an heir to carpet factory fortunes, for some reason all -gravitate to ballet, to create and perpetuate “hobby” businesses? I have -not yet discovered the answer. As in the case of Denham, so with the -others. Lacking knowledge or trained taste, people like these no sooner -find themselves in ballet than down they come with the Diaghileffitis -attack. - -Russian intrigue quickened its tempo, increased its intensity. Denham, -with the smooth, soft suavity of a born organizer, drove about the -country in his battered little car, often accompanied by his niece, -Tatiana Orlova, who was later to become the fourth Mrs. Massine, -ostensibly to try to attract more backers, more money. More often than -not, he followed the exact itinerary of the de Basil tour. Then he would -insinuate himself back-stage, place a chair for himself in the wings -during the performances of the de Basil company, and there negotiate -with dancers in an effort to get them to leave de Basil and join the new -company. At the same time, he would exhibit what can only be described -as a deplorable rudeness to de Basil, whose company it was. - -On the other hand, de Basil increased and intensified his machinations -to try to induce me to again sign with him. Not only did he step up his -own personal barrage, but the intrigues of his associates were deepened. -These associates were now three in number. Russian intrigue was having -an extended field day. On the one hand, there was Denham intriguing for -all he was worth against de Basil. On the other, de Basil’s three -henchmen were intriguing against Denham, against me, against each other, -and, I suspect, against de Basil. It was a sorry spectacle. - -It was the sort of thing you come upon in tales of Balkan intrigue. The -cast of this one included a smooth and suave Russian ex-merchant, bland -and crafty, easy of smile, oozing “culture,” with an attractive -dancer-niece as part-time assistant, and a former Diaghileff _corps de -ballet_ dancer, a member of de Basil’s company, as his spy and -henchwoman-at-large. Arrayed against this trio was the de Basil quartet: -the “Colonel” himself, and his three henchmen. The first was Ignat Zon, -a slightly obese organizer and theatre promoter from Moscow and -Petrograd, who, after the Revolution, had turned up in Paris, where he -allied himself with Prince Zeretelli, de Basil’s former Caucasian -partner. Zon was not interested in ballet; he was a commission merchant, -nothing more. The other two were a comic conspiratorial pair. One was a -Bulgarian lawyer, who had lived for some time in Paris, Jacques Lidji, -by name. The other was an undersized, tubby little hanger-on, Alexander -Philipoff, a fantastic little man with no experience of theatre or -ballet, who neither spoke nor understood a word of anything save -Russian. Philipoff certainly was not more than five feet tall, chubby, -tubby, rotund, with a beaming face and an eternally suspicious eye. The -contrast between him and the tall, gaunt de Basil was ludicrous. -Privately they were invariably referred to as Mutt and Jeff. Philipoff -constantly sought for motives (bad) behind every word uttered, behind -every facial expression, every gesture. - -Both men were overbearing, and rather pathetic, at that. Neither of the -pair could be called theatre people by any stretch of the imagination. -Lidji, the lawyer, was quite as futile in his own way as Philipoff. As a -pair of characters they might have been mildly amusing in _The Spring -Maid_ type of operetta. As collaborators on behalf of ballet, they were -a trial and a bloody bore. Lidji, incidentally, was but one of de -Basil’s lawyers; others came and went in swift procession. But Lidji -lasted longer than some, and, for a time, acted as a sort of -under-director, as did Philipoff. Since Lidji was not, at the time, an -American citizen, he was unable to engage in the practice of law in the -States. When he was not otherwise engaged in exercises of intrigue, -Lidji would busy himself writing voluminous reports and setting down -mountains of notes. - -I am convinced that the reason de Basil had so many legal advisers was -that he never paid them. Soon one or another would quit, and yet another -would turn up. I have a theory that, no matter how poor one may be, one -should always pay one’s doctor and one’s lawyer; each can help one out -of trouble. - -My personal problem was relatively simple. With the Massine group -raiding de Basil’s company, which of the dancers would remain with the -“Colonel”? This was problem number one. The other was, with de Basil -dropping Massine, who was the creator and the creative force behind the -de Basil company and who would, moreover, be likely to take a number of -important artists from de Basil to his own company, what would de Basil -have in the way of playable repertoire, artists, new creations? - -To annoyance and aggravation, now were added perplexity, puzzlement. - -It was at about this time, on one of my European visits, I had had -extended discussions with René Blum regarding my bringing him and his -new company to America. I had seen numerous performances given by his -company during their London season, and I had been impressed by their -quality. - -During this period of puzzlement on my part, Sergei Denham came to me to -try to interest me in the new Fleischmann venture. Denham assured me he -had ample financial backing for the new company. My chief concern at -this time was the question of the artistic direction of the new -organization. I told Denham that if he would secure by contract the -services of Leonide Massine in that capacity, I would be interested in -taking over the management of the company, and signed a letter to that -effect. - -Subsequently, the late Halsey Malone, acting as counsel for Universal -Art, the corporate title of the Fleischmann group, secured Massine’s -signature and a detailed contract was drawn up. - -As matters stood, I had one more season to go with my contractual -arrangements with de Basil, and Massine had the better part of another -season with the former’s company. - -Massine’s contract with de Basil expired while the company was playing -in San Francisco, and the two parted company, with Massine, Danilova, -and others leaving for Monte Carlo. - -That repertoire consisted of five Fokine-Diaghileff revivals: -_Carnaval_, _Le Spectre de la Rose_, _Les Sylphides_, _Prince Igor_, and -_Schéhérazade_. - -[Illustration: _Valente_ - -Anton Dolin in _Fair at Sorotchinsk_] - -[Illustration: - - Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo: Alexandra Danilova as the Glove Seller - and Leonide Massine as the Peruvian in _Gaîté Parisienne_ - -_Valente_] - -[Illustration: - -_Maurice Seymour_ - -Tamara Toumanova] - -[Illustration: - - _Maurice Seymour_ - -Alicia Markova] - -[Illustration: - -_Valente_ - - Scene from Antony Tudor’s _Romeo and Juliet_: Hugh Laing, Antony - Tudor, Dmitri Romanoff, Lucia Chase, Alicia Markova -] - -[Illustration: - - Ballet Theatre: Jerome Robbins and Janet Reed in _Fancy Free_ - -_Valente_] - -[Illustration: - - _Gordon Anthony_ - -Ninette de Valois] - -[Illustration: _Angus McBean_ - -David Webster] - -[Illustration: Constant Lambert - -_Baron_] - -[Illustration: - - _Magnum_ - -S. Hurok, Margot Fonteyn, Robert Helpmann] - -[Illustration: Irina Baronova and Children - - _Star Photo_ -] - -[Illustration: _Felix Fonteyn_ - - Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Following the premiere of - _Sylvia_--Frederick Ashton, Margot Fonteyn, S. Hurok -] - -[Illustration: S. Hurok and Margot Fonteyn - -_Felix Fonteyn_] - -There was a production of Delibes’s _Coppélia_, staged by Nicholas -Zvereff; the _Swan Lake_ second act; a version of _The Nutcracker_, by -Boris Romanoff; and _Aubade_, to the music of Francis Poulenc, staged by -George Balanchine. - -Importantly, there were several new Fokine creations: _L’Epreuve -d’Amour_, a charming “_chinoiserie_,” to the music of Mozart; _Don -Juan_, a balletic retelling of the romantic tale to a discovered score -by Gluck; _Les Eléments_, to the music of Bach; _Jota Argonesa_, a work -first done by Fokine in Petrograd, in 1916; _Igroushki_, originally -staged by Fokine for the Ziegfeld Roof in New York, in 1921; _Les -Elfes_, the Mendelssohn work originally done in New York, in 1924. The -two other Fokine works were yet another version of _The Nutcracker_, and -de Falla’s _Love, the Sorcerer_, both of which were later re-done by -Boris Romanoff. - -Painters and designers included André Derain, Mariano Andreu, Nathalie -Gontcharova, Dmitri Bouchene, Mstislav Doboujinsky, and Cassandre. - -Massine’s preparations went ahead apace. In Boston there were intensive -researches and concentrated work on the score for what was destined to -be one of the most popular works in modern ballet, _Gaîté Parisienne_. -In a large room in the Copley Plaza Hotel were assembled all the extant -scores of Offenbach operettas, procured from the Boston Public Library -and the Harvard Library. There were two pianists, Massine, Efrem Kurtz, -the conductor, copyists. The basic musical material for the ballet was -selected there, under Massine’s supervision. Later, in Paris, it was put -together and re-orchestrated by Manuel Rosenthal. - -The de Basil company finished its American season and sailed for Europe. -Meanwhile the deal was consummated between Fleischmann, Massine, Denham -and Blum, and Universal Art became the proprietor of the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo. Before the deal was finally settled, however, Fokine had -left Blum and had sold his services to de Basil, whose company was -playing a European tour. Massine was the new artistic director of the -new Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, while Fokine had switched to de Basil. - -Massine was now busily engaged in building up the dancing personnel of -his new organization. On the distaff side, he had Alexandra Danilova, -Eugenia Delarova, Tamara Toumanova, Lubov Rostova, from the de Basil -company. From the Blum company he took Natalie Krassovska, Jeanette -Lauret, Milada Mladova, Mia Slavenska, Michel Panieff, Roland Guerard, -Marc Platoff, Simon Semenoff, Jean Yasvinsky, George Zoritch, and Igor -Youskevitch, as principals. Of the group, it is of interest to note that -three--Mladova, Guerard, and Platoff--were American. In addition, -Massine engaged the English _ballerina_, Alicia Markova, then quite -unknown to American audiences, although a first lady of British Ballet; -Nini Theilade of plastic grace; and the English Frederick Franklin, yet -another Massine discovery. Serge Lifar, the last Diaghileff dancing -discovery and the leading dancer and spirit of the ballet at the Paris -Opera, was added. - -The new company was potentially a strong one. I was pleased. But I was -anything but pleased at the prospect of the two companies becoming -engaged in what must be the inevitable: a cut-throat competition between -them. The split, to be sure, had weakened the de Basil organization; the -new Monte Carlo company had an infinitely better balance in personnel. -In some respects, the Massine company was superior; but de Basil had a -repertoire that required only careful rehearsing, correcting, and some -refurbishing of settings and costumes. With Massine’s departure, David -Lichine had stepped into the first dancer roles. Irina Baronova had -elected to remain with de Basil, in direct competition with Toumanova; -others choosing to remain with the old company included Riabouchinska, -Grigorieva, Morosova, Verchinina, Tchernicheva, Osato, Shabalevsky, -Petroff, Lazovsky, and Jasinsky. - -I envisaged, for the good of ballet and its future, one big ballet -company, embracing the talents and the repertoires of both. I genuinely -feared the co-existence of the two companies, being certain that the -United States and Canada were not yet ready to support two companies -simultaneously. I pleaded with both to merge their interests, bury their -differences. I devoted all my time and energy in a concentrated effort -to bring about this desired end. The problems were complicated; but I -was certain that if there was a genuine desire on both sides, and good -will, a deal would be worked out. It blew hot. It blew cold. As time -went on, with no tangible results visible, my hopes diminished. It was -not only the financial arrangements between the two companies that -presented grave obstacles; there were formidable personality -differences. The negotiations continued and were long drawn-out. Then, -one day, the clouds suddenly thinned and, to my complete surprise, we -appeared to be making progress. Almost miraculously, so it seemed, the -attorneys for Universal Art and de Basil sat down to draw up the -preliminary papers for the agreement to agree to merge. Through all this -trying period there was helpful assistance from Prince Serge Obolensky -and Baron “Nikki” Guinsberg. - -At last the day arrived when the agreement was ready for joint approval, -clause by clause, by both parties to the merger, with myself holding a -watching brief as the prospective manager of the eagerly awaited Big -Ballet. This meeting went on for hours and hours. It opened in the -offices of Washburn, Malone and Perkins, the Universal Art attorneys, in -West Forty-fourth Street, early in the afternoon. By nine o’clock at -night endless haggling, ravelled tempers, recurring deadlocks had, I -thought reached their limit. - -Food saved that situation. Prince Obolensky and my attorney, Elias -Lieberman, fetched hamburgers. But, before they could be consumed, we -were evicted from the offices of the attorneys by the last departing -elevator man, who announced the building was being closed for the night, -and the conference, hamburgers and all, was transferred to the St. Regis -Hotel. At four o’clock the next morning, a verbal agreement was reached. -The deed was done. I felt sure that now we had, with this combination of -all the finest balletic forces extant in the Western World, the best as -well as the biggest. - -The “Colonel” departed for Berlin to join his company which was playing -an engagement there. He was to have signed the agreement before sailing, -but, procrastinator that he was, he slipped away without affixing his -signature. Nor had he authorized his attorney to sign for him, and it -took a flock of wireless messages and cables to extract from him the -authority the attorney required. At last it came. - -I had never been happier. Mrs. Hurok and I got ourselves aboard the -_Normandie_ for our annual summer solstice in Europe. On board we found -the Julius Fleischmanns. At dinner the first night out, our joint toast -was in thanks for the merger and to the Biggest and Best of all Ballets. - -Although Fleischmann showed me one mildly disturbing wireless message, I -had five days of peace. It was not destined to continue. When I stepped -down from the boat train at London’s Waterloo Station, I was greeted by -the news that the merger was off. - -The “Colonel” had changed his mind. Massine also had become resentful at -a division of authority. Confusion reigned. As an immediate result, -almost overnight de Basil lost control and the authoritative voice in -his own company. Altogether, it was a complicated business. - -A new holding company, calling itself Educational Ballets, Ltd., headed -by Baron “Freddy” d’Erlanger, banker and composer, whose bank had a -large interest in the de Basil company, had taken over the operation of -the company, and had placed a new pair of managing directors in charge: -Victor Dandré, Anna Pavlova’s husband and manager, jointly with “Gerry” -Sevastianov, the husband of Irina Baronova. The Royal Opera House, -Covent Garden, which was to have been the scene of the debut of the Big -Merged Company, had been taken for the original organization. - -It was all a bad dream, I felt. This impression was intensified a -hundred fold when I sat in the High Court in London’s Temple Bar, as -be-wigged counsel and robed judge performed an autopsy on my dream -ballet. Here, with all the trappings of legality, but no genuine -understanding, a little tragicomedy was being played out. Educational -Ballets, Ltd., announced the performance of all the Massine ballets in -the de Basil repertoire. This spurred Massine into immediate legal -action. - -Massine went into court, not for damages, not for money, but for a -declaratory judgment to determine, once for all, his own rights in his -own creations. The court’s decision, after days of forensic argument, -conducted with that understatement and soft but biting insult that is -the prerogative of British learned counsel, was a piece of legalistic -hair-splitting. Under British law, unlike the American, choreographic -rights are protected. Would that the choreographic artist had a like -protection under our system! By virtue of having presented the works in -public performance, the court decided that de Basil had the right to -continue such presentation: any works Massine had created as an employee -of de Basil, while receiving a salary from him, Massine could not -reproduce for a period of five years. Only the three works he had -originally created for Diaghileff: _The Three-Cornered Hat_, _The -Fantastic Toy-Shop_, and _Le Beau Danube_, could be reproduced by him -for himself or for any other company. - -The court action was a fortnight’s news-making wonder in London. Ballet -was not helped by it. Ballet belongs on the stage, not in the musty -atmosphere of the court room. De Basil and his lawyers, Massine and his -lawyers, Universal Art and their lawyers. It is a silly business. _X_ -brings an action against _Y_ over an alleged breach of a theatrical -employment contract. Let us assume that _X_ represents the employer, _Y_ -the artist-employee. Let us assume further that _X_ wins the action. _Y_ -must continue in the employment of _X_. What, I ask you, is less -satisfactory than an artist who is compelled by a court judgment to -fulfil a contract? In ballet, the only persons who benefit in ballet -lawsuits are the learned counsel. Differences of opinion, personality -clashes are not healed by legal action; they are accentuated. Legal -actions of this sort are instituted usually in anger and bitterness. -When the legal decision is made, the final settlement adjudicated, the -bitterness remains. - -The merger off, my contract with Universal Art came into force. I was -committed to the management of a London season. Since the traditional -home of ballet, the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, had been preempted -by the old company, I took Old Drury, the historic Drury Lane Theatre, -whose history is as long, whose beauty is equally famous, whose seating -capacity is enormous. - -The two houses are two short blocks apart. The seasons were -simultaneous. Both were remarkably successful; both companies played to -packed houses nightly. Nightly I had my usual table at the Savoy Grill, -that famed London rendezvous of theatrical, musical, balletic, and -literary life. Nightly my table was crowded with the ebb and flow of -departing and arriving guests. The London summer, despite my -forebodings, was halcyon. - -De Basil, at this period, was not a part of this cosmopolitanism and -gaiety. Having been forced out of the control of his own company, at -least for the moment, he became a recluse in a tiny house in Shepherd’s -Market, typically biding his time in his true-to-form Caucasian manner, -reflecting on his victory, although it had been more Pyrrhic than -triumphant. We met for dinner in his band-box house, most of which time -I devoted to a final effort to effect a merger of the two companies. It -was a case of love’s labour lost, for the opposing groups were poles -apart. - -The summer wore on into the late English midsummer heat, when all London -takes itself hence. The original company’s season at Covent Carden -slowed down, came to a stop; and a fortnight later, we rang down our -final curtain at Drury Lane. - -Before leaving for Paris, en route home to New York, there was a bit of -straightening out to be done in London. The merger having failed to -jell, a bit of additional adjustment was necessary. In other words, -because of the changed situation, my contract with Universal Art had to -be renegotiated. As in all matters balletic, it would seem, numerous -conferences were required; but the new contract was eventually -negotiated agreeably. - -Back in New York, the day of the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe opening -approached. There were the usual alarums and excursions, and others not -so usual. Markova, of course, was English. Moreover, she danced the -coveted role, the title part in _Giselle_. She had already made this -part quite personally something of her own. Her success in the role -during the Drury Lane season, where she had alternated the part with -Tamara Toumanova, had been conspicuous. Although the role was shared -between three _ballerinas_, Markova, Toumanova, and Slavenska, Massine -and I agreed that, since the opening performance in New York was so -important and because Markova was new to the country, it would provide -her with a magnificent opportunity for a debut; she should dance Giselle -that night. - -Factionism was rampant. Pressures of almost every sort were put upon -Massine to switch the opening night casting. - -A threat of possible violence caused me to take the precaution to have -detectives, disguised as stage-hands standing by; I eliminated the -trap-door and understage elevator used in this production as Giselle’s -grave, and gave instructions to have everything loose on the stage -fastened down. So literally were these orders carried out that even the -lilies Giselle has to pluck in the second act and toss to her Albrecht -while dancing as a ghost, were securely nailed to the stage floor. This -nearly caused a minor contretemps and what might have turned out to be a -ludicrous situation, when Markova had to rip them up by main force -before she could toss them to Serge Lifar, who was making his first New -York appearance with the company as Albrecht. - -Lifar’s brief association with the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe was not -a happy one for any of us, least of all for himself. He certainly did -not behave well. In my earlier book, _Impresario_, I dwelt quite fully -on certain aspects of his weird fantasies. There is no point in -repeating them. Always excitable, here in New York at that time Lifar -was unable to understand and realize he was not at the Paris Opera, -where his every word is law. - -Lifar’s fantastic behavior in New York before we shipped him back to -Paris was but an example of his lack of tact and his overwhelming -egoism. He proved to be a colossal headache; but I believe much of it -was due to a streak of self-dramatization in his nature, and a positive -delight he takes in being the central character, the focus of an -“incident.” - -Under the influence of a genuine creative urge, Massine’s directions of -the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe for two seasons richly fulfilled the -promise it held at the company’s inception. The public grew larger each -season. At the same time, slowly, but none the less surely, that public -became, I believe, more understanding. The ballet public of America was -cutting its eye-teeth. - -It was during the early seasons that Massine added three more symphonic -ballets to the repertoire, with Beethoven’s _Seventh Symphony_; _Rouge -et Noir_, to the brilliant First Symphony of Dmitri Shostakovich; and -_Labyrinth_, a surrealist treatment of the Seventh Symphony of Franz -Schubert. Christian Bérard provided scenery and costumes for the first -of them; Henri Matisse, for the second; Salvador Dali, for the last. The -Shostakovich work was the most successful of the three. Regrettably, all -these symphonic ballets are lost to present-day audiences. - -The outstanding comedy success was _Gaîté Parisienne_, the Offenbach -romp, originally started in Boston before the company as such existed. -The most sensational work was Massine’s first surrealist ballet, -_Bacchanale_, to the Venusberg music from Wagner’s _Tannhauser_. A quite -fantastic spectacle, from every point of view, it was a Massine-Dali -joke, one that was less successful when the same combination tried to -repeat it in _Labyrinth_. - -There were lesser Massine works, produced under frantic pressure; -examples: _Saratoga_, an unhappy attempt to capture the American spirit -of the up-state New York spa, to a commissioned score by Jaromir -Weinberger; _The New Yorker_, which was certainly no American _Gaîté -Parisienne_, being Massine’s attempt to try to bring to balletic life -the characters, the atmosphere, and the perky humors of the popular -weekly magazine, all to a pastiche of George Gershwin’s music. A third -work was one of his last Monte Carlo Ballet Russe creations, -_Vienna--1814_, an evocation of the spirit of the Congress of Vienna, to -music by Carl Maria von Weber, orchestrated by Robert Russell Bennett. - -_Bogatyri_, a colorful Russian spectacle, designed as a sort of -successor to Fokine’s _Le Coq d’Or_, had spectacular scenery and -costumes by Nathalie Gontcharova, and was a long and detailed work -utilising a movement of a Borodin string quartet and his Second -Symphony. In cooperation with Argentinita, Massine staged a quite -successful Spanish _divertissement_ to Rimsky-Korsakoff’s _Capriccio -Espagnol_, using for it the set and costumes Mariano Andreu had designed -for Fokine’s _Jota Argonesa_. - -In summing up Massine’s creations for the new company, I have left his -most important contribution until the last. It was _St. Francis_, -originally done in our first season at London’s Drury Lane, where it was -known as _Noblissima Visione_. A collaboration between the composer, -Paul Hindemith, and Massine, it may be called one of Massine’s greatest -triumphs and one of his very finest works. The ballet, unfortunately, -was not popular with mass audiences; but it was work of deep and moving -beauty, with a ravishing musical score, magnificent scenery and costumes -by Pavel Tchelitcheff, and two great performances by Massine himself in -the title role, and Nini Theilade, as Poverty, the bride of St. Francis. - -For the record, let me note the other works that made up the Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo repertoire under my management: Massine’s -productions of _The Three-Cornered Hat_, _The Fantastic Toy Shop_, and -_Le Beau Danube_. George Balanchine staged a revival of _Le Baiser de La -Fée_ (_The Fairy’s Kiss_) and _Jeu de Cartes_ (_Card Game_), both -Stravinsky works he had done before, and all borrowed from the American -Ballet. There was a new production of Delibes’s _Coppélia_, in a setting -by Pierre Roy; and the Fokine-Blum works I have mentioned before. - -I accepted as a new production a revival of Tchaikowsky’s _The -Nutcracker_, staged by Alexandra Fedorova, and a re-working of parts of -Tchaikowsky’s _Swan Lake_, also staged by Fedorova, under the title of -_The Magic Swan_. - -Three productions remain to be mentioned. One was _Icare_, staged only -at the Metropolitan Opera House in the first season, a graphic and -moving re-enactment of the Icarus legend, by Serge Lifar, to percussive -rhythms only. The second was Richard Rodgers’s first and only -exclusively ballet score, _Ghost Town_, a _genre_ work dealing with the -California Gold Rush. It was the first choreographic job of a talented -young American character dancer, Marc Platoff, born Marcel Le Plat, in -Seattle. Not a work out of the top drawer, it was nevertheless a good -try for a young choreographer. - -The third work in this group is one I felt should have been given a -better chance. It was _Devil’s Holiday_, by Frederick Ashton, the -leading choreographer of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, and his first -all-balletic work to be seen on this side of the Atlantic. Done at the -opening of our 1939-1940 season, at the Metropolitan Opera House, under -the stress and strain of a hectic departure, and a hurried one, from -Europe after the outbreak of the war, it suffered as a consequence. In -settings and costumes by Eugene Berman, its score was a Tommasini -arrangement of Paganini works. Ashton had been able only partially to -rehearse the piece in Paris before the company made its getaway, -eventually to reach New York on the day of the Metropolitan opening, -after a difficult and circuitous crossing to avoid submarines. On -arrival, a number of the company were taken off to Ellis Island until we -could straighten out faulty visas and clarify papers. I am certain -_Devil’s Holiday_ was one of Ashton’s most interesting creations; it -suffered because the creator was unable to complete it and, as a -consequence, America was never able to see it as its creator intended, -or at anything like its best. - -With the 1940-1941 season, deterioration had set in at the vitals of the -Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, Massine had exerted tremendous efforts. The -company he had created was a splendid one. But, as both leading dancer -and chief choreographer, he had no time to rest, no time to think. The -same sloughing off that took place with the de Basil company was now -becoming apparent in this one. There was a creaking in the vessel -proper, an obvious straining at the seams. The non-Massine productions -lacked freshness or any distinctive quality. There were defections among -some of the best artists. Massine was coming up against a repetition of -his de Basil association. Friction between Massine and Denham increased, -as the latter became more difficult. - -I could not be other than sad, for Massine had given of his best to -create and maintain a fine organization. He had been a shining example -to the others. The company had started on a high plane of -accomplishment; but it was impossible for Massine to continue under the -conditions that daily became less and less bearable. Heaven knows, the -“Colonel” had been difficult. But he had an instinct for the theatre, a -serious love for ballet, a broad experience, was a first-class -organizer, and an untiring, never ceasing, dynamic worker. - -Sergei Denham, by comparison, was a mere tyro at ballet direction, and -an amateur at that. But, amateur or not, he was convinced he had -inherited the talent, the knowledge, the taste of the late Serge -Diaghileff. - -I had not devoted twenty-eight years of hard, slogging work to the -building of good ballet in America to allow it to deteriorate into a -shambles because of the arbitrariness of another would-be Diaghileff. - -It was time for a change. - - - - -9. What Price Originality? -The Original Ballet Russe - - -The condition of the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe in 1941 being as I have -described it, it became imperative for me to try to improve the -situation as best I could. It was a period of perplexity. - -The “Colonel,” once more installed in the driver’s seat of his company, -with its name now changed from Educational Ballets, Ltd., to the -Original Ballet Russe, had been enjoying an extended sojourn in -Australia and New Zealand, under the management of E. J. Tait. - -Although I knew deterioration had set in with the old de Basil -company--so much so that it had been one of the salient reasons for the -formation of the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, quite apart from the -recurring personality clashes--I was now faced with a deterioration in -the latter company, one that had occurred earlier in its history and -that was moving more swiftly: a galloping deterioration. As I watched -the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo company performances, I was acutely -conscious not only of this, but I saw disruption actively at work. The -dancers themselves were no longer interested. They day-dreamed of -Broadway musicals; they night-dreamed of the hills of Hollywood and film -contracts. Some were wistfully thinking in terms of their own little -concert groups. The structure was, to say the least, shaky. - -From the reports that reached me of the Original company’s success and -re-establishment in Australia, I sensed the possibility (and the hope) -that a rejuvenation had taken place. Apart from that, there had been new -works added to the repertoire, works I was eager to see and which I felt -would give the American ballet-goer a fresh interest, for that important -individual had every right to be a bit jaded with things as they were. - -Since I had taken the precaution to have the “exclusivity” clause -removed from my Universal Art contract, I was free to experiment. I -therefore arranged to bring de Basil and his Original Ballet Russe to -America from Australia. They arrived on the Pacific Coast, and we played -an engagement in Los Angeles, another in Chicago, yet another in Canada. -Then I brought them to New York. - -This was a season when the Metropolitan Opera House was not available -for ballet performances. Therefore, I took the Hollywood Theatre, on -Broadway, today rechristened the Mark Hellinger. - -I opened the season with a four weeks’ engagement of the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, followed immediately by the Original Ballet Russe, making a -consecutive period of about fifteen weeks of ballet at one house, -setting up a record of some sort for continuous ballet performances on -Broadway. - -Christmas intervened, and, following my usual custom, I gave a large -party at Sherry’s in honor of Mrs. Hurok’s birthday, which occurs on the -25th December, at which were gathered the entire personnel of the -company, together with Katherine Dunham, Argentinita, and other -distinguished guests. - -If I should be asked why I again allied myself with the “Colonel,” I -already have given a partial answer. There was a sentimental reason, -too. It was a case of “first love.” I wanted to go back to that early -love, to try to recapture some of the old feeling, the former rapture. I -should have realized that one does not go back, that one of the near -impossibilities of life is to recapture the old thrill. Those who can -are among the earth’s most fortunate. - -This ten-week season was expensive. The pleasure of trying to recapture -cost me $70,000 in losses. - -There were, however, compensations: there was the unending circus of -“Mutt and Jeff,” the four-feet-seven “Sasha” Philipoff and the -six-feet-two “Colonel.” - -There was a repertoire that interested me. It was a pleasure once again -to luxuriate in the splendors of _Le Coq d’Or_, although the investiture -had become a shade or two tarnished from too much travel and too little -touching-up. It was refreshing to see Baronova and Toumanova in brisk -competition again in the same company, for the latter had already become -one of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo defections. - -It is difficult for me to realize that Irina Baronova no longer dances. -She was the youngest of the “baby ballerinas.” Gentle, shy, with -honey-colored hair, Irina was born in Leningrad, and eventually reached -Paris, with her family, by way of the Orient. About her was a simple, -classical beauty, despite the fact that she always found it necessary to -disguise (on the stage) her rather impudent little nose in a variety of -ways by the use of make-up putty. It was so when she started in as a -tiny child to study with the great lady of the Maryinsky, Olga -Preobrajenska, whose nose also has a tilt. - -To George Balanchine must go the credit for discovering Baronova in -Preobrajenska’s School in Paris, when he was on the search for new -talents at the time of the formation of the de Basil-Blum Les Ballets -Russes de Monte Carlo. About her work there was always something joyful -and yet, at the same time, something that was at once wistful and -tender. - -As a classical dancer there was something so subtle about her art that -its true value and her true value came only slowly upon one. There was -no flash; everything about her, every movement, every gesture, flowed -one into another--as in swimming. But not only was she a great classical -dancer, she was the younger generation’s most accomplished mime. - -I like to remember her as the Lady Gay, that red-haired trollop of the -construction camps, in _Union Pacific_, with her persuasive, -characteristic “come-up-and-see-me-sometime” interpretation; to remember -her in the minor role of the First Hand in _Le Beau Danube_, carefree, -innocent, flirting at the side of the stage with a park artist. I like -to remember her in _Jeux d’Enfants_, as she ran through the gamut of -jealousy, petulance, anger, and triumph; in _Les Présages_, as the -passionate woman loving with her whole being, fighting off the evil that -threatens love; in the mazurka in _Les Sylphides_; in _The Hundred -Kisses_, imperious, sulky, stubborn, humorously sly; and as the -Ballerina in _Petroushka_, drawing that line of demarcation between -heartless doll and equally heartless flirting woman. - -Performance over, and away from the theatre, another transformation took -place; for Irina was never off-stage the _grande artiste_, the -_ballerina_, but a healthy, normal girl, with a keen sense of humor. - -After a turn or two as a “legitimate” actress and a previous marriage, -Baronova now lives in London’s Mayfair, the wife of a London theatrical -manager, with her two children. The triumph of domesticity is ballet’s -loss. - -I should like to set down from my memory the additions to the repertoire -of the Original Ballet Russe while they had been absent from our shores. - -There were some definitely refreshing works. Chief among these were two -Fokine creations, _Paganini_ and _Cendrillon_. - -The former had been worked out by Fokine with Sergei Rachmaninoff, -utilizing for music a slightly re-worked version of the latter’s -_Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini_. Serge Soudeikine had designed a -production that ranked at the top of that Russian designer’s list of -theatre creations. The entire ballet had a fine theatrical -effectiveness. Perhaps the whole may not have been equal to the sum of -its parts, but the second scene, wherein Paganini hypnotized a young -girl by his playing of the guitar and the force of his striking -personality, thereby forcing her into a dance of magnificent frenzy, was -a striking example of the greatness of Fokine. Tatiana Riabouchinska -rose to tremendous heights in the part. I remember Victor Dandré, so -long Pavlova’s life-partner and manager, telling me how, in this part, -Riabouchinska reminded him of Pavlova. Dandré did not often toss about -bouquets of this type. - -_Cendrillon_ was Fokine’s retelling of the Cinderella tale. The score, -by Baron “Freddy” d’Erlanger, was certainly no great shakes, but Fokine -illuminated the entire work with the sort of inventiveness that was so -characteristic of him at his best. It would be unjust to compare this -production with the later Frederick Ashton _Cinderella_, to the -Prokofieff score, which he staged for the Sadler’s Wells Ballet; the -approach was quite different. The de Basil-Fokine production -nevertheless had a distinct charm of its own, enhanced by a genuine -fairy-tale setting by Nathalie Gontcharova. - -A lesser contribution to the repertoire was a symbolic piece, _The -Eternal Struggle_, staged by Igor Schwezoff, in Australia, to Robert -Schumann piano music, orchestrated by Antal Dorati. It served the -purpose of introducing two Australian designers to America: the Misses -Kathleen and Florence Martin. - -There was a duo of works by David Lichine, one serious and unsuccessful, -the other a comedy that had a substantial audience success and which, -since then, has moved from company to company. The former, _Protée_, was -arranged to Debussy’s _Danses Sacré et Profane_, in a Chirico setting -and costumes. The latter, _Graduation Ball_, Lichine had staged during -the long Australian stay. Its music was an admirable selection and -arrangement of Johann Strauss tunes by Antal Dorati. Its setting and -costumes were by Alexandre Benois. Much of its humor was sheer horseplay -and on the obvious side; but it was completely high-spirited, and was -the season’s comedy success. - -A third work, credited to Lichine, was _The Prodigal Son_, a ballet that -was the outstanding creation of the last Diaghileff season, in 1929. Set -to a memorable commissioned score by Serge Prokofieff, by George -Balanchine, with Serge Lifar, Leon Woizikovsky, Anton Dolin and Felia -Dubrowska in the central roles, it had striking and evocative settings -and costumes by Georges Rouault. De Basil had secured these properties, -and had had the work re-done in Australia by Lichine. Lichine insisted -he had never seen the Balanchine original and thus approached the -subject with a fresh mind. However, Serge Grigorieff was the general -stage director for both companies. It is not beyond possibility that -Grigorieff, with his sensitive-plate retentive mind for balletic detail, -might have transferred much of the spirit and style of the original to -the de Basil-Lichine presentation. However it may have been, the result -was a moving theatrical experience. My strongest memory of it is the -exciting performance given by Sono Osato as the exotic siren who seduces -the Prodigal during his expensive excursion among the flesh-pots. - -During this Hollywood Theatre season we also had _Le Cotillon_, that had -served originally to introduce Riabouchinska to American audiences. We -also, I am happy to remember, had Fokine’s Firebird, in the original -choreography, and the uncut Stravinsky score, together with the -remarkable settings and costumes of Gontcharova. Its opening performance -provided a few breath-taking moments when Baronova’s costume gave way, -and she fought bravely to prevent an embarrassing exposure. - -During their tenure of the Hollywood Theatre, we managed one creation. -It was _Balustrade_. Its choreography was by George Balanchine. Its -music was Igor Stravinsky’s Violin Concerto, played in the orchestra pit -by Samuel Dushkin, for whom it was written. Stravinsky himself came on -from California to conduct the work. As is so often the case with -Balanchine, it had neither story nor theme nor idea; it was simply an -abstraction in which Balanchine set out to exploit to the fullest the -brittle technical prowess of Tamara Toumanova. The only reason I could -determine for the title was that the setting, by Pavel Tchelitcheff, -consisted of a long balustrade. Unfortunately, despite all the costs, -which I paid, it had, all told, one consecutive performance. - -The close of the season at the Hollywood Theatre found me, once again, -in a perplexed mood. The de Basil organization, riddled by intrigue and -quite out of focus, was not the answer. Its finances were in a parlous -state. I disengaged my emotions and surveyed both the negligible -artistic accomplishments and the substantial financial losses. I turned -a deaf ear to de Basil’s importunings to have me undertake another -American tour, although I did sponsor engagements in Boston and -Philadelphia, and undertook to send the company to Mexico and South -America. - -As matters stood, neither the company nor the repertoire was good -enough. I still had one more season tied to the Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, and that, for the moment, was enough of trouble. I argued with -myself that the Denham difficulties were sufficient unto one day, -without deliberately and gratuitously adding those of the “Colonel.” - -Fresh troubles arose in Philadelphia, from which point the company was -to depart for Mexico City. Tamara Toumanova’s presence with the company -was one of the conditions of the Mexican contract. - -It will not be difficult, I think, for the reader to imagine my feelings -when, on my arrival in Philadelphia, I was greeted by Toumanova with the -news that she was leaving the company, that her contract with de Basil -had expired, and that nothing in her life had given her greater -happiness than to be able to quit. - -De Basil was not to be found. He had gone into hiding. I went into -action. I approached “Gerry” Sevastianov and his wife, Irina Baronova, -to help out the situation by agreeing to have Baronova go to Mexico in -place of the departing Toumanova. She consented, and this cost me an -additional considerable sum. - -Having succeeded in this, de Basil emerged from his hiding place to hold -me up once again by demanding money under duress. He had no money and -had to have cash in advance before he would move the company to Mexico. -Once there, he raised objections to the Baronova arrangements, did not -want her to dance or as a member of the company; and there was a general -air of sabotage, egged on, I have no doubt, by a domestic situation, -wherein his wife wanted to dance leading roles. - -Somehow we managed to get through the Mexico City engagement and to get -them to Cuba. There matters came to a head with a vengeance. Because of -de Basil’s inability to pay salaries, he started cutting salaries, with -a strike that has become a part of ballet history ensuing. - -Once more I dispatched my trusty right hand, Mae Frohman, to foreign -parts to try to straighten matters out. There was nothing she could do. -The mess was too involved, too complicated, and the only possible course -was for me to drop the whole thing. - -De Basil, looking for new worlds to conquer, started for South America. -His adventures in the Southern Hemisphere have no important place in -this book, since the company was not then under my management. They -would, moreover, fill another book. The de Basil South American venture, -however, enters this story chronologically at a later point. Let it be -said that the “Colonel’s” adventures there were as fantastic as the man -himself. They included, among many other things, defection after -defection, sometimes necessitating a recruiting of dancers almost from -the streets; the performances of ballets with girls who had never heard -of the works, much less seen them, having to rehearse them sketchily -while the curtain was waiting to rise; the coincidence of performance -with the outbreak of a local revolution; flying his little company in -shifts, since only one jalopy plane, in a dubious state of repair, was -available. I shall not go into his fantastic financing, this being one -of the few times when, as I suggested at the beginning of this book, the -curtain might be lowered for a few discreet moments, in order to spare -the feelings of others rather than my own. - -In the quiet of the small hours of the morning, I would lie awake and -compare the personalities of the two “organizers,” de Basil and Denham, -reviewing their likenesses and their differences. As I dozed off, I came -to the conclusion that most generalizations about personality are wrong. -When you have spent hours, days, months, years in close association and -have been bored and irritated by a flamboyant individual, you are apt to -think that restraint and reticence are the only virtues. Until you meet -a quiet fellow, who is quiet either because he has nothing to say or -nothing to make a noise about, and then discover his stillness is merely -a convenient mask for deceit. - -Massine, unable to continue any longer with the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe -management, severed his connection with the company he had made, in -1942. Save for a few undistinguished creations, de Basil was skating -along as best he could on his Diaghileff heritage; classicism was being -neglected in the frantic search for “novelties.” Both companies were -making productions, not on any basis of policy, but simply for -expediency and as cheaply as possible. Existing productions in both -companies were increasingly slipshod. While it is true that a good -ballet is a good ballet, it is something less than good when it receives -niggardly treatment or when it is given one less iota than the strictest -attention to detail. - -That is exactly what happened when the companies split, and split again: -the works suffered; this, together with the recurring internal crises, -boded ill for the future of ballet. There was the ever-present need for -money for new productions. Diaghileff had one Maecenas after another. By -the beginning of the third decade of the twentieth century, a Maecenas -was becoming a rare bird indeed. Today he is as dead as the proverbial -Dodo. - -I had certain definite convictions about ballet, I still have them. One -of them is that the sound cornerstone of any ballet company must be -formed of genuine classics. But these must never take the form of -“modern” versions, nor additionally suffer from anything less than -painstaking productions, top-drawer performances, and an infinite -respect for the works themselves. Ballet may depart from the classical -base as far as it wishes to experiment, but the base should always be -kept in sight; and psychological excursions, explorations into the -subconscious, should never be permitted to obscure the fact that the -basic function of ballet is to entertain. By that I do not mean to -suggest ballet should stand still, should chain itself to reaction and -the conservatism of a dead past. It should look forward, move forward; -but it must take its bearings from those virtues of a living past, which -is its heritage: all of which can be summed up in one brief phrase--the -classical tradition. - -There are increasingly frequent attempts to create ballets crammed with -symbols dealing with various aspects of sex, perversion, physical and -psychological tensions. In one of the world’s great ballet centers there -have been attempts to use ballet as a means to promulgate and -propagandize political ideologies. I am glad to say the latter have been -completely unsuccessful and they have returned to the classics. - -I should be the last person to wish to limit the choreographer’s choice -of subject material. That is ready to his hand and mind. The fact -remains that, in my opinion, ballet cannot (and will not) be tied down -to any one style, aesthetic, religion, ideology, or philosophy. -Therefore, it seems to me, the function of the choreographer is to -express balletic ideas, thought, and emotion in a way that first and -foremost pleases him. But, at the same time, I should like to remind -every choreographer of a distinguished authority, when he said, -“Pleasure, and pleasure alone, is the purpose of art.” But pleasure -differs in kind according to the way that individuals and groups of -individuals differ in mental and emotional make-up. Thus ballet provides -pleasure for the intellectual and the sensualist, the idealist and the -realist, the Catholic, the Protestant, the Atheist. And it will remain -the function of the choreographer to provide this infinite variety of -pleasure until such time that all men think, feel, and act alike. - -Ballet was at a cross-road. I was at a cross-road in my career in -ballet. It was at this indecisive point there emerged a new light on the -balletic horizon. It called itself Ballet Theatre. It interested me very -much. - - - - -10. The Best of Plans ... -Ballet Theatre - - -During the very late ’thirties, Mikhail Mordkin had had a ballet -company, giving sporadic performances on Sunday nights, occasionally on -week-day evenings, and, now and then, some out-of-town performances. It -was a small company, largely made up of Mordkin’s pupils, of which one, -Lucia Chase, was _prima ballerina_. Miss Chase was seen in, among other -parts, the title role of _Giselle_, in which she was later replaced by -Patricia Bowman. - -This little company is credited with having given the first performance -on this continent of the full-length Tchaikowsky _Sleeping Beauty_. In -order that the record may be quite clear on this point, the production -was not that of the Petipa masterpiece, but rather Mordkin’s own -version. It was presented at Waterbury, Connecticut, in 1937. Waterbury -is the home town of Lucia Chase. Lucia Chase was the Princess Aurora of -the production. So far as the records reveal, there was a single -performance. - -The season of 1938-1939 was the Mordkin company’s last. It was, as a -company, foredoomed to failure from the very start, in my opinion. Its -repertoire was meagre, unbalanced; it had no dancers who were known; it -lacked someone of _ballerina_ stature. - -Towards the end of the company’s existence, Mordkin had an associate, -Richard Pleasant, whose interest in ballet had, in earlier days, caused -him to act as a supernumerary in de Basil company productions, and who -had an idea: an idea that has lurked in the minds of a number of young -men I know, to wit: to form a ballet company. It is one thing to want to -form a ballet company, another to do it. In addition to having the idea, -one must have money--and a great deal of it. - -In this case, idea and money came together simultaneously, for the -Mordkin school and company had Lucia Chase, with ambitions and interest -as well. Lucia Chase had money--a great deal of it--and she wanted to -dance. She had substantially financed the Mordkin company. Pleasant went -ahead with his plan for a grandiose organization--with his ideas and -Chase’s money. The Mordkin company was closed up; and a new company, on -a magnificent scale, calling itself Ballet Theatre, was formed. - -The Mordkin venture had been too small, too limited in its scope, too -reactionary in thought, so Mordkin himself was pushed into the -background, soon to be ousted altogether, and the tremendous undertaking -went forward on a scale the like of which this country had never seen. -In a Utopia such a pretentious scheme would have a permanent place in -the cultural pattern, for the company’s avowed policy, at the outset, -was to act as a repository for genuine masterpieces of all periods and -styles of the dance; it would be to the dance what a great museum is to -the arts of sculpture and painting. The classical, the romantic, the -modern, all would find a home in the new organization. The company was -to be so organized that it could compete with the world’s best. It -should be large. It should have ample backing. - -The company’s debut at the Center Theatre, in New York’s Rockefeller -Center, on 11th January, 1940, was preceded by a ballyhoo of circus -proportions. The rehearsal period preceding this date was long and -arduous. The company’s slogans included one announcing that the works -were “staged by the greatest collaboration in ballet history.” It was a -“super” organization--imposing, diverse and diffuse. But it was a big -idea, albeit an impractical one. Its impracticability, however, did not -lessen the impact of its initial impression. More than thirteen years -have elapsed since Ballet Theatre made its bow, and one can hardly -regard its initial roster of contributors even now without an astonished -blink of the eyes. There were twenty principal dancers, fifteen -soloists, a _corps de ballet_ of fifty-six. In addition, there was a -Negro group numbering fourteen. There was an additional Spanish group of -nineteen. The choreographers numbered eleven; an equal number of scene -and costume designers; three orchestra conductors. Eighteen composers, -living and dead, contributed to the initial repertoire of as many works. - -Although the founders were American, as was the backing, there was no -slavish chauvinism in its repertoire, which was cosmopolitan and -catholic. Only two of its eleven choreographers were natives: Eugene -Loring and Agnes de Mille. The company was international. Three of the -choreographers were English: Anton Dolin, Andrée Howard, and Antony -Tudor. Four were Russian: Michel Fokine, Adolph Bolm, Mikhail Mordkin, -Bronislava Nijinska. - -Only five of the eighteen works that made up the repertoire of the -introductory season of Ballet Theatre remain in existence: _Giselle_, -originally staged, after the traditional production, by Anton Dolin, who -had joined the venture after an Australian stint with de Basil’s -Original Ballet Russe; _Swan Lake_, in the one-act version, also staged -by Dolin; Fokine’s masterpiece, _Les Sylphides_; the oldest ballet -extant, _La Fille Mal Gardée_, staged by Bronislava Nijinska; and Adolph -Bolm’s production of the children’s fairy tale, _Peter and the Wolf_, to -the popular Prokofieff orchestral work, with narrator. - -It was significant to me that the outstanding successes of that first -season were the classics. First, there was _Les Sylphides_, restored by -the master himself. This, coupled with Dolin’s _Swan Lake_, and -_Giselle_, constituted the backbone of the standard repertoire. - -The first four weeks’ season was, perhaps, as expensive a balletic -venture as New York has known, with the possible exception of the Ballet -International of the Marquis de Cuevas, some four years later. - -Following Ballet Theatre’s introductory burst of activity, there was a -hiatus, during which the company gave sporadic performances in -Philadelphia, some appearances at the Lewisohn Stadium in New York, and -appeared in Chicago in conjunction with the Chicago Opera Company. - -Before Ballet Theatre embarked on its second season, trouble was -cooking. There were indications Lucia Chase and Pleasant were not seeing -exactly eye to eye. The second New York season was announced to open at -the Majestic Theatre, on 11th February, 1941. Now the Majestic Theatre -is a far cry from the wide open spaces of the Center Theatre. It is the -house where I had given a brief and costly season with de Basil’s -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo in the early days, on a stage so small that -no justice can be done to dance or dancers, and where the capacity does -not admit of meeting expenses even when sold out. - -Pleasant’s newest idea, announced before the season opened, was to -present a “company.” There were to be no distinctions or classifications -of dancers. One of the time-honored institutions of ballet was also -abolished; there was no general stage director, or _régisseur-general_, -as he is known in the French terminology of ballet. Instead, the company -was divided, like all Gaul, into three parts, to be known as “Wings,” -with Anton Dolin in charge of the “Classic Wing”; Antony Tudor, of the -“English Wing”; Eugene Loring, of the “American Wing.” Five new works -were added to the repertoire, of which only two remain: Eugene Loring’s -_Billy the Kid_, to one of Aaron Copland’s finest scores, and Agnes de -Mille’s _Three Virgins and a Devil_, to Ottorino Respighi’s _Antiche -Danze ed Arie_. Dolin’s _Pas de Quatre_, produced at this time, has been -replaced in the company’s repertoire by another version. - -The differences between Pleasant and Chase came to a head, and the -former was forced to resign at the end of the four weeks’ season, which -resulted in more substantial losses. - -It was at this time that I was approached on behalf of the organization -by Charles Payne, seeking advice as to how to proceed. We lunched -together in Rockefeller Plaza, and while I am unable to state that the -final decision was wholly mine or that the terminal action was taken -exclusively on my advice, I counselled Payne that, in my opinion, the -only course for them to follow would be to close down the company -completely, place everything they owned into storage, and start afresh -after reorganization. Receipts at the box-office having fallen as low as -$319 a performance, there was no other choice. In any event, my advice -was followed. - -Reorganization was under way. In an organization of this magnitude and -complexity, reorganization was something that took a great deal of both -thought and time. It was by no means a simple matter. While the -reorganization was in its early, indecisive stages, with protracted -debates going on within the circle as to whether it should continue in -any form or fold its wings in the sleep everlasting, Anton Dolin came to -me to ask me to take over the management of the venture. - -This was not a thing to be regarded lightly. The situation in ballet in -general, and with the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe in particular, being as I -have described it, I was interested in and attracted by the potential -value of the company, if the proper sort of reorganization could be -effected. Their Chicago season had been a complete fiasco at the -box-office. There is a legend to the effect that, in an effort to -attract a few people into the Chicago Opera House, members of the -company stood outside the building as the office-workers from the -surrounding buildings wended their way homeward to the suburban trains, -passing out free tickets. The legend also has it that they managed to -get some of these free tickets into the hands of a local critic who was -one of the crowd. - -I do not wish to bore the reader with the details of all the debates -that highlighted those days. Sufficient is it to say that they were -crowded and that the nights were often sleepless. - -Anton Dolin was responsible for having German (“Gerry”) Sevastianov, no -longer associated with de Basil, appointed as managing director, in -succession to the resigned Pleasant. - -The negotiations commenced and were both long and involved between all -parties concerned which included discussion with Lucia Chase and her -attorney, Harry M. Zuckert. Matters were reaching a point where I felt a -glimmer of light could be detected, when a honeymoon intervened, due to -the marriage of Zuckert. Ballet waited for romance. Throughout the long -drawn-out discussions and negotiations, Zuckert was always pleasant, -cooperative, diplomatic, and evidenced a sincere desire to avoid any -friction. - -Among the first acts of Sevastianov, after taking over the directorship, -was to engage his wife, Irina Baronova, as a leading ballerina, together -with Antal Dorati, former musical director of the de Basil company, and -today the musical director of the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, to -direct and supervise the music of Ballet Theatre. Later, through the -good offices of Anton Dolin, Alicia Markova, whose contract with the -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo had terminated, became one of the two -_ballerine_ of the company. - -The negotiations dragged on during the summer. Meanwhile, with the -company and its artists inactive, Markova and Dolin, on their own, -leased Jacob’s Pillow, the Ted Shawn farm and summer theatre in the -Berkshires, and gave a number of performances under the collective title -of International Dance Festival. This was a quite independent venture, -but Markova and Dolin peopled their season and school with the personnel -of Ballet Theatre. - -This summer in the Berkshires had a two-fold effect on the company: -first, the members were thus able to work together as a unit; second, -with three choreographers in residence, it was possible for them to lay -out and develop the early groundwork of three works, subsequently to be -added to the Ballet Theatre repertoire: _Slavonika_, by Vania Psota; -_Princess Aurora_, by Anton Dolin; and _Pillar of Fire_, by Antony -Tudor. - -Two of these were major contributions; one was pretty hopeless. Dolin’s -_Princess Aurora_ was a reworking of the last act of Tchaikowsky’s _The -Sleeping Beauty_, a sort of _Aurora’s Wedding_, with the addition of the -_Rose Adagio_, giving the company another classic work that remains in -the company’s repertoire today, with some “innovations.” _Pillar of -Fire_, set to Arnold Schönberg’s _Verklärte Nacht_, revealed a new type -of dramatic ballet which, in many respects, may be said to be Tudor’s -masterpiece. _Slavonika_ was set by the Czech Psota to a number of -Dvorak’s _Slavonic Dances_, and was an almost total loss, from every -point of view. The original version, as first produced, ran fifty-five -minutes. I thought it would never end. But, as the tour proceeded, it -was cut, and cut again. The last time I saw it was when I visited the -company in Toronto. Then it was blessedly cut down to six minutes. After -that, no further reduction seemed possible, and it was sent to the limbo -of the storehouse, never to be seen again. - -The deal between Ballet Theatre and myself was closed during the time -the company was working at Jacob’s Pillow, and I took over the company -in November, 1941. It might be of interest to note some of the chief -personnel of the company at that time. Among the women were: Alicia -Markova, Irina Baronova, Lucia Chase, Karen Conrad, Rosella Hightower, -Nora Kaye, Maria Karnilova, Jeanette Lauret, Annabelle Lyon, Sono Osato, -Nina Popova, and Roszika Sabo; among the men were: Anton Dolin, Ian -Gibson, Frank Hobi, John Kriza, Hugh Laing, Yurek Lasovsky, Nicolas -Orloff, Richard Reed, Jerome Robbins, Dmitri Romanoff, Borislav Runanin, -Donald Saddler, Simon Semenoff, George Skibine, and Antony Tudor, to -list them alphabetically, for the most part. Later, Alicia Alonso -returned to the organization. A considerable number had been brought as -a strengthening measure by Sevastianov. - -One of the company’s weaknesses was in its classical and romantic -departments. While there were Fokine’s _Les Sylphides_ and _Carnaval_, I -felt more Fokine ballets were necessary to a balanced repertoire. -Sevastianov engaged Fokine to re-stage _Le Spectre de la Rose_ and -_Petroushka_, and to create a new work for Anton Dolin and Irina -Baronova. Fokine started work on _Bluebeard_, to an Offenbach score, -arranged and orchestrated by Antal Dorati, with scenery and costumes by -Marcel Vertes. - -Meanwhile, I lived up to my contract with the Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, and presented them, in the autumn of 1941, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, and subsequently on tour. - -In order to prepare the new works, Ballet Theatre went to Mexico City, -returning to New York to open at the Forty-fourth Street Theatre, on -12th November, 1941. In addition to the existing Ballet Theatre -repertoire, four works were added and had their first New York -performances: Psota’s _Slavonika_, and Dolin’s re-creation of _Princess -Aurora_, which I have mentioned, together with _Le Spectre de la Rose_, -and Bronislava Nijinska’s _The Beloved One_. The last was a revival of a -work originally done to a Schubert-Liszt score, arranged by Darius -Milhaud, for the Markova-Dolin Ballet in London. In the New York -production it had scenery and costumes by Nicolas de Molas. It was not a -success. - -The season was an uphill affair. Business was not good, but matters were -improving slightly, when we reached that fatal Sunday, the seventh of -December. Pearl Harbor night had less than $400 in receipts. The world -was at war. The battle to establish a new ballet company was paltry by -comparison. Nevertheless, our plans had been made; responsibilities had -been undertaken; there were human obligations to the artists, who -depended upon us for their livelihood; there were responsibilities to -local managers, who had booked us. There was a responsibility to the -public; for, in such times, I can conceive no reason why the cultural -entertainment world should stand still. It is a duty, I believe, to see -that it does not. In Russia, during the war, the work of the ballet was -intensified; in Britain, the Sadler’s Wells organization carried on, -giving performances throughout the country, in camps, in factories, in -fit-ups, as an aid to the morale both civilian and military. There could -be no question of our not going forward. - -Leaving New York, we played Boston, Philadelphia, a group of Canadian -cities, Chicago. With such a cast and repertoire, it was reasonable to -expect there would be large audiences. The expectation was not -fulfilled. The stumbling-block was the title: Ballet Theatre. The use of -the two terms--“ballet” and “theatre”--as a means of identifying the -combination of the balletic and theatrical elements involved in the -organization, is quite understandable, in theory. As a practical name -for an individual ballet company, it is utterly confusing and -frustrating. I am not usually given to harboring thoughts of -assassination, but I could murder the person who invented that title and -used it as the name for a ballet company. Ballet in America does not -exist exclusively on the support of the initiated ballet enthusiast, the -“balletomane”--to use a term common in ballet circles to describe the -ballet “fan.” The word “balletomane” itself is of Russian origin, a -coined word for which there is no literal translation. Ballet, in order -to exist, must draw its chief support from the mass of theatregoers, -from the general amusement-loving public, those who like to go to a -“show.” The casual theatregoer, when confronted with posters and a -marquee sign reading “Ballet Theatre,” finds himself confused, more -likely than not believing it to be the name of the theatre building -itself. My own experience and a careful survey has demonstrated this -conclusively. - -My losses in these days of Ballet Theatre were prodigious. Both Chase -and Sevastianov were aware of them. Other managements, in view of such -losses, might well have dropped the entire venture. In view of the heavy -deficits I was incurring and bearing single-handed, I felt some -assistance should be given. - -An understanding was reached whereby I agreed to reduce the number of -new productions to be furnished for the next season, in order that their -expenses might be minimized. In consideration of this a certain amount -was refunded. At that moment it was a help; but not a sufficient help to -reduce my losses to less than $60,000. As a matter of fact, the -agreement was beneficial to both sides. In my case, it temporarily eased -the burden of meeting a heavy weekly payroll at a time when there were -practically no receipts; as for Ballet Theatre, it substantially reduced -their investment in new productions. - -The continuing war presented additional problems. Personnel changes were -frequent on the male side of the company owing to the war-time draft. -There was an increasing demand for ballet; but a new uninformed, -uninitiated public was not in the market for ballet companies, but for -ballets--works about which they had somehow heard. I had two companies, -Ballet Theatre and the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, and I presented -them, one after the other, at the Metropolitan Opera House. In my -opinion, many of the problems could have been solved by a merger of the -two groups, had such a thing been possible, thus preserving, I believe, -the best properties and qualities of each of them. - -During the spring of 1942, two new works were presented: Tudor’s _Pillar -of Fire_, on which he had been working for a long time, and Fokine’s -_Russian Soldier_. The latter was done at a time when we were all -thrilled by the tremendous effort the Russians were making in their -battles, their heroic battles, against the Nazi invader. In discussing -the idea with Fokine, himself Russian to the core, we emphasized the -symbolic intent of the tragedy, that of the simple Russian peasant who -sacrifices his life for his homeland. Although we of course did not -realize it at the time, this was to be the last work Fokine was to -complete in his long list of balletic creations. _Russian Soldier_ had -some of the best settings and costumes ever designed by the Russian -painter, Mstislav Doboujinsky. For music, Fokine utilized the orchestral -suite devised by Serge Prokofieff from his score for the satirical film, -_Lieutenant Kije_, which was extremely effective as music, but with -which I was never entirely happy, since Prokofieff, the musical -satirist, had packed it with his own very personal brand of satire for -the satiric film for which the music was originally composed. At the -same time, I doubt that any substantial portion of the audience knew the -source of the music and detected the satire; the great majority found -the work a moving experience. - -Aside from being perhaps Tudor’s most important contribution to ballet, -_Pillar of Fire_--with its settings and costumes by Jo Mielziner, his -first contribution as a noted American designer to the ballet -stage--served to raise Nora Kaye from the rank and file of the original -company to an important position as a new type of dramatic _ballerina_. - -Leonide Massine, parting with the company he had built, joined Ballet -Theatre as dancer and choreographer before the company’s departure for a -second summer season at the Palacio des Bellas Artes in Mexico City, as -guests of the Mexican Government. - -In addition to performances there, the company used the Mexican period -as one of creation and rehearsal. Massine was in the midst of a creative -frenzy, working on two new ballets. One was _Don Domingo_, which had -some stunning scenery and costumes by the Mexican artist, Julio -Castellanos; an intriguing score by Sylvestre Revueltas; a Mexican -subject by Alfonso Reyes; _Don Domingo_ was prompted by the sincere -desire to pay a tribute to the country south of the border which had -played host to the company. That was Massine’s intention. Unfortunately, -the work did not jell, and was soon dropped from the repertoire. - -The other work was _Aleko_, which takes rank with some of the best of -Massine’s creations. It was a subject close to his heart and to mine, -the poetic Pushkin tale of the lad from the city and his tragic love for -the daughter of a gypsy chieftain, a love that brings him to two murders -and a banishment. As a musical base, Massine took the Trio for piano, -violin, and violoncello which Tchaikowsky dedicated “to the memory of a -great artist,” Nicholas Rubinstein, in an orchestration by Erno Rapee. -The whole thing was a fine piece of collaboration between Massine and -the surrealist painter, Marc Chagall; and the work was deeply moving, -finely etched, with a strong feeling for character. - -I have particularly happy memories of watching Chagall and his late wife -working in happy collaboration on the _Aleko_ production in Mexico City. -While he busied himself with the scenery, she occupied herself with the -costumes. The result of this fine collaboration on the part of all the -artists concerned resulted in a great Russian work. - -The Ballet Theatre management was, to put it mildly, not in favour of -_Aleko_. It was a production on which I may be said to have insisted. -Fortunately, I was proved correct. Although it was dropped from the -repertoire not long after Ballet Theatre and I came to a parting of the -ways, it has now, ten years after its production, been crowned with -success in London. Presented at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, by -Ballet Theatre, in the summer of 1953, it has proved to be the -outstanding hit of their London season, both with press and public. I -cannot remember the unemotional and objective _Times_ (London) waxing -more enthusiastic over a balletic work. - -During the Mexican hegira the company re-staged the Eugene Loring-Aaron -Copland _Billy the Kid_, still one of the finest American ballets, -although originally created in 1938. Certainly it is one of Copland’s -most successful theatre scores. Simon Semenoff also brought forth a -condensed and truncated version of Delibes’s _Coppélia_, as a vehicle -for Irina Baronova, with settings and costumes by Robert Montenegro. It -was not a success. It was a case of tampering with a classic; and I hold -firmly to the opinion that classics should not be subjected to tampering -or maltreatment. There is a special hades reserved for those -choreographers who have the temerity to draw mustaches on portraits of -lovely ladies. - -Yet another Mexican creation that failed to meet the test of the stage -was _Romantic Age_, a ballet by Anton Dolin, to assorted music by -Vincenzo Bellini, in a setting and with costumes by Carlos Merida. An -attempt to capture some of the balletic atmosphere of the “romantic age” -in ballet, it was freely adapted from the idea of _Aglae, or The Pupil -of Love_, a work by Philippe Taglioni, dating back to 1841, originally a -vehicle of Marie Taglioni. - -Michel Fokine and his wife Vera were also with the company in Mexico -City, re-staging his masterpiece, _Petroushka_, and commencing a new -work, _Helen of Troy_, based on the Offenbach _opéra bouffe_, _La Belle -Hélene_. Unfortunately, Fokine was stricken with pleurisy and returned -to New York, only to die from pneumonia shortly after. - -_Helen of Troy_, however, promised well and a substantial investment had -already been made in it. David Lichine was called in and worked with -Antal Dorati on the book, as Dorati worked on the Offenbach music, with -Lichine staging the work on tour after the Metropolitan Opera House -season in New York. Still later, when Vera Zorina appeared with the -company, George Balanchine restaged it for his wife. The final result -was presumably a long way from Fokine, but a version of it still remains -in the Ballet Theatre repertoire today. - -André Eglevsky joined the company during this season. Later on, Irina -Baronova, under doctor’s orders, left. Because there was no sound -artistic direction and no firm discipline in the company, I urged -Sevastianov to engage an experienced and able ballet-master and -_régisseur-general_ in the person of Adolph Bolm, to be responsible for -the general stage direction, deportment, and the exercise of an artistic -discipline over the company’s dancers, particularly the dissident -elements in it, which made working with them exceedingly difficult at -times. Sevastianov discussed the matter with Miss Chase, who agreed. -Before accepting, Bolm telephoned me from California seeking my advice -and I could but urge him to accept because I felt this would go a long -way toward stabilizing the company artistically. - -It was at the close of the autumn season of 1942, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, that I bade good-bye to the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo and -Universal Art. There was a brief ceremony back-stage at the end of the -last performance. Denham and I both made farewell speeches. It is -always a sad moment for me to leave a company for whose success I have -given so much of my time, my energy, and money. I felt this sadness -keenly as I took leave of the nice kids. - -The subsequent Ballet Theatre tour developed recurring headaches. They -were cumulative, piling up into one big headache, and it will be less -trying both to the reader and to myself to recount it later in one -place, at one time. - -With the spring of 1943, back we came to the Metropolitan for our spring -season. There was a managerial change. German Sevastianov went off to -war as a member of the United States Army, and J. Alden Talbot became -managing director in his stead. This began the period of the wisest -direction Ballet Theatre has known. Janet Reed joined the company as a -soloist, and Vera Zorina appeared as guest artist in _Helen of Troy_, -and in a revival of George Balanchine’s _Errante_. This was a work set -to the music of Schubert-Liszt, originally done for Tilly Losch for _Les -Ballets 1933_, in London, when Balanchine left de Basil, and one which -the American Ballet revived at the Adelphi Theatre, in New York, two -years later, with Tamara Geva. Balanchine also revived Stravinsky’s -_Apollon Musagète_, with André Eglevsky, Zorina, Nora Kaye, and Rosella -Hightower, to one of Stravinsky’s most moving scores. - -The other work was history-making. It was Antony Tudor’s _Romeo and -Juliet_. It was a work of great seriousness and fine theatrical -invention. On the opening night Tudor had not finished the ballet, -although he had been at it for months. It was too late to postpone the -_première_, so, after a good deal of persuading, it was agreed to -present it in its unfinished state. The curtain on the first performance -fell some twelve minutes before the end. I have told this tale in detail -in _Impresario_. The matter is historic. There is no point in laboring -it. Tudor is an outstanding creator in the field of modern ballet. -_Romeo and Juliet_ is a monument to his creative gifts. The pity is that -it no longer can be given by Ballet Theatre, no longer seen by the -public, with its sharp characterization, its inviolate sense of period, -the tenseness of its drama sustained in the medium of the dance. - -Tudor’s original idea with _Romeo and Juliet_ was to utilize the Serge -Prokofieff score for the successful Soviet ballet of the same title. -However, he found the Prokofieff score was unsuitable for his -choreographic ideas. He eventually decided on various works by the -English composer, Frederick Delius. Because of the war, it was found -impossible to secure this musical material from England. Consequently, -Antal Dorati, the musical director, orchestrated the entire work from -listening to gramophone recordings of the Delius pieces. How good a job -it was is testified by Sir Thomas Beecham, the long-time friend of -Delius and the redoubtable champion of the composer’s music. I engaged -Sir Thomas to conduct a number of performances of _Romeo and Juliet_ at -the Metropolitan Opera House, and he was amazed by the orchestration, -commenting, “Astounding! Perfectly astounding! It is precisely as -written by my late friend.” - -The list of Beechamiana is long; but here is one more item which I -believe has the virtue of freshness. I should like to record an incident -of Sir Thomas’s first orchestral rehearsal of _Romeo and Juliet_. As I -recall it, this rehearsal had to be sandwiched in between a broadcast -concert rehearsal Sir Thomas had to make and the actual orchestral -broadcast to which he was committed. There was no time to spare. Our -orchestra was awaiting him at their places in the Metropolitan pit. The -rehearsal was concise, to the point, with few stoppings or corrections -on Sir Thomas’s part. At the conclusion, Sir Thomas looked the men over -with a pontifical eye. Then he addressed them as follows: “Ladies and -gentlemen. I happen to be one of those who believes music speaks its own -language, and that words about it are usually a waste of time and -effort. However, a word or two at this juncture may not be amiss.... I -happened to know the late composer, Mr. Delius, intimately. I am also -intimately acquainted with his music. I have only one suggestion, -gentlemen. Tonight, when we play this music for this alleged ballet, if -you will be so good as to confine yourselves to the notes as written by -my late friend, Mr. Delius, and not _improvise_ as you have done this -afternoon, I assure you the results will be much more satisfactory.... -Thank you very much.” And off he went. - -That night the orchestra played like angels. The ballet was in its -second season when I invited Sir Thomas to take over the performances. -It was a joy to have him in command of the forces. Too little attention -is accorded the quality of the orchestra and the conductor in ballet. -Quite apart from the musical excellence itself, few people realize of -what tremendous value a good conductor and a good orchestra can be to -ballet as a whole. _Romeo and Juliet_ never had such stage performances -as those when Sir Thomas was in charge. And this is not said in -disparagement of other conductors. Not only was the Beecham orchestral -tone beautifully transparent, but Sir Thomas blended stage action and -music so completely that the results were absolutely unique. The -company responded nobly to the inspiration. It was during this season, -endeavoring to utilize every legitimate means to stimulate interest on -the part of the public that, in addition to Sir Thomas and various guest -dancing stars, I also brought Igor Stravinsky from California to conduct -his own works during the Metropolitan Opera House engagement. - -For the sake of the record, let me briefly cite the chronological -tabulation of Ballet Theatre through the period of my management. In the -autumn of 1943, at the Metropolitan Opera House, there were three new -productions, one each by Massine, Tudor, and David Lichine: -_Mademoiselle Angot_, _Dim Lustre_, and _Fair at Sorotchinsk_. - -Massine took the famous operetta by Charles Lecocq, _La Fille de Mme. -Angot_, and in a series of striking sets by Mstislav Doboujinsky, turned -it into a ballet, which, for some reason, failed to strike fire. It is -interesting to note that when, some years later, Massine produced the -work for Sadler’s Wells at Covent Garden, it was a considerable success. -Tudor’s _Dim Lustre_, despite the presence of Nora Kaye, Rosella -Hightower, Hugh Laing, and Tudor himself in the cast, was definitely -second-rate Tudor. Called by its creator a “psychological episode,” this -sophisticated Edwardian story made use of Richard Strauss’s _Burleske_, -an early piano concerto of the composer’s, with a set and costumes by -the Motley sisters. Lichine’s _Fair at Sorotchinsk_ was a ballet on a -Ukrainian folk tale straight out of Gogol, with Moussorgsky music, -including a witches’ sabbath to the _Night on a Bald Mountain_, with -settings and costumes by Nicolas Remisoff. It was an addition to the -repertoire, if only for the performance of Dolin as Red Coat, the Devil -of the Ukraine, who danced typically Russian Cossack toe-steps and made -toe-pirouettes. Had the Cossack “Colonel” de Basil seen this, he would, -I am sure, have envied Dolin for once in his life. While _Fair at -Sorotchinsk_ did not have a unanimously favorable reception at the hands -of the press, it was generally liked by the public, as evidenced by the -response at the box-office. - -After the 1943-1944 tour, two more works were added during the spring -season at the Metropolitan Opera House, two sharply contrasted works by -American choreographers: Jerome Robbins and Agnes de Mille. Robbins’s -_Fancy Free_ was a smash hit, a remarkable comedy piece of American -character in a peculiarly native idiom. As a result of this work, -Robbins leapt into fame exactly as Agnes de Mille had done a couple of -years before as the result of her delightful _Rodeo_. _Fancy Free_ was -a collaborative work between Robbins and the brilliant young composer -and conductor, Leonard Bernstein, whose score was as much of a hit as -was the ballet itself. Bernstein’s conducting of the orchestra was also -a telling factor, for his dynamism and buoyancy was transmitted to the -dancers. - -Agnes de Mille’s work, _Tally-Ho_, was in a much different mood from her -_Rodeo_. From present-day America, she leapt backwards to the France of -Louis XVI, for a period farce-comedy, set to Gluck melodies, -re-orchestrated by Paul Nordoff. The settings and costumes, in the style -of Watteau, were by the Motleys, who had decorated her earlier _Three -Virgins and a Devil_. Combining old world elegance with bawdy humor, -_Tally-Ho_ had both charm and fun, and although the company worked its -hardest and at its very best for Agnes, and although she put her very -soul into it, it was not the success that had been hoped. - -Only one _première_ marked the autumn season at the Metropolitan. It was -one done by Balanchine, called _Waltz Academy_, the first work he had -created for Ballet Theatre, in contrast to numerous revivals I have -mentioned. It was not a very good ballet, static in effect, although -classical in style. Its setting was a reproduction of the ballet room at -the Paris Opera, by Oliver Smith. The music was a dry orchestration of -dance melodies, largely waltzes, by Vittorio Rieti, who composed a pair -of latter-day Diaghileff works. A ballet that could have been -entertaining and lively, just missed being either. - -The lack of new works and the necessity to stimulate public interest -made it necessary to add guest stars, particularly since Markova and -Dolin had left the company to appear in Billy Rose’s revue, _The Seven -Lively Arts_. Consequently, Tamara Toumanova, Tatiana Riabouchinska, -David Lichine, and André Eglevsky made guest appearances. - -The subsequent tour compounded internal complications until the only -ameliorating feature of my association was the wise and understanding -cooperation of J. Alden Talbot, who was, I knew, on the verge of -resigning his post, for reasons not entirely different from my own in -considering writing a book to be called _To Hell with Ballet!_ - -On tour, during 1944-1945, Tudor rehearsed the only new work to be -offered during the 1945 spring season at the Metropolitan. It was -_Undertow_, the story of an adolescent’s neurosis, suggested to Tudor by -the well-known playwright, John van Druten. It was packed with symbols, -Freudian and otherwise; and my own reaction to its murky tale dealing -with an Oedipus complex, a bloody bitch, a lecherous old man’s affair -with a whore, a mad wedding, a group of drunken charwomen, a rape of a -nasty little girl by four naughty little boys, and a shocking murder, -was one of revulsion. The score was specially commissioned from the -present head of the Juilliard School, the American William Schuman. The -settings and costumes, as depressing as the work itself, were by the -Chicago painter, Raymond Breinin. - -The rigors of war-time ballet travel were considerable, a constant -battle to arrive on time, to be able to leave in time to arrive in time -at the next city. Each day presented a new problem. But it had its comic -side as well. We had played the Pacific Northwest and, after an -engagement in Portland, there followed the most important engagement of -the west thus far, that at the War Memorial Opera House, in San -Francisco. - -There was immense difficulty in getting the company and its properties -out of Portland at all. It should be remembered, and there is no harm -pointing out that the entire railway transportation system of our -country from Portland, Oregon, in the far Northwest, to New Orleans, in -the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, is in the hands of a single railway, -thousands of miles of it single-track line, with no competition, and -thus a law unto itself. For a long time, during this particular tour, -this railway insisted, because of military commitments, it could not -handle the company and its baggage cars from Portland to San Francisco -in time for the first performance there. - -The reader should know that there are no reduced fares or concessions -for theatrical or ballet companies. First-class fares are paid, and full -rates for Pullmans and food. My representative, with a broad experience -in these matters, continued to battle, and it was eventually arranged -that the company would be attached in “tourist” coaches to a troop train -bound for the south, but with no dining facilities for civilians and no -provision for food or drink. At least, it would get them to San -Francisco in time for the opening performance. - -So, the rickety tourist cars were attached to the troop train and the -journey commenced. The artists were carefully warned by my -representative that this was a troop train, that no food would be -available, and that each member of the company should provide himself -enough food and beverage for the journey. - -At daybreak of the next morning, cold and dismal, the train stopped at a -junction point in the Cascades to add a locomotive for the long haul -over the “divide.” Opposite the station was a “diner.” Twelve members of -the company, including four principal artists, in nightclothes--pyjamas, -nightgowns, kimonos, bed-slippers, with lightweight coats wrapped round -them--insisted on getting down from the train and crossing to the little -“diner” for “breakfast.” - -Our company manager warned them not to leave the train; told them that -there would be no warning, no signal, since this was not a passenger -train but a troop train, and that they risked missing the train -altogether. He begged, pleaded, ordered--to no avail. Off they went in -the cold of the dawn, in the scantiest of nightclothes. - -Silently and without warning, as the manager had foretold, the train -pulled out, leaving a dozen, including four leading artists, behind in -an Oregon tank town without clothes or tickets. - -By dint of a dozen telephone calls and as many telegrams, the -nightgown-clad D.P.’s were picked up by a later train. After fourteen -hours in day coaches, crowded with regular passengers, they arrived at -the San Francisco Ferry, still in their nightclothes, thirty minutes -before curtain time; they were whisked in taxis to the War Memorial -Opera House. The curtain rose on time. The evening was saved. - -It had its amusing side. It was one of the many hardships of wartime -touring, merely one of the continuous headaches, although a shade on the -unusual side. It was also yet another example of the utter lack of -discipline and consideration in the company, and of the stubborn refusal -of some of its members to cooperate in the cause of a fine art. - -Another of the many incidents having to do with the difficulties of -war-time touring was one in Augusta, Georgia, where no hotel or other -housing accommodations could be found, due to the war-time overcrowding. - -Most of the company slept, as best they could, in the railway station or -in the public park. It is recorded that Alicia Markova spent the night -sleeping on the sidewalk in the entrance-way to a grocer’s shop, wrapped -in newspapers and a cloak by the company manager, while that guardian -angel spent the night sitting on the edge of an adjoining -vegetable-stand, watching over her, smoking an endless chain of -cigarettes. - -This attitude was but an indication of the good sportsmanship the -youngsters evidenced on more than one occasion, proving that, _au fond_, -they were, on the whole, good “troupers.” - -While I had been prepared for the departure from the company of J. Alden -Talbot, I was saddened, nevertheless, when he left. Lucia Chase and the -scene designer, Oliver Smith, became joint managing directors, with the -result that there was precious little management and even less -direction. We played a summer season in California, at the War Memorial -Opera House in San Francisco, in conjunction with the City’s Art -Commission, and at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles. In Hollywood we -rehearsed some of the new works to be given in New York in the autumn. -They were five in number, and unequal both in quality and appeal. Only -one was a real success. The five works were by an equal number of -choreographers: Simon Semenoff, Michael Kidd, John Taras, Jerome -Robbins, and Adolph Bolm. - -Semenoff’s work, _Gift of the Magi_, was an attempt to make a ballet out -of O. Henry’s little short story of the same title, a touching tale of -the pathos of a young married couple with taste and no money. For the -ballet, young Lukas Foss wrote a workmanlike score, and Raoul Péne du -Bois supplied a great deal of scenery, difficult to manipulate. Nora -Kaye and John Kriza, as the young lovers, gave it a sweetness of -characterization. But, despite scenery, costumes, properties, and sweet -characterization, there was no real choreography, and the work soon left -the repertoire. - -Michael Kidd’s first choreographic attempt for Ballet Theatre, and his -first full-scale work as a matter of fact, was a theatre piece. A -musical comedy type of work, it never seemed really to belong in a -ballet repertoire. Kidd called it _On Stage!_ For it Norman dello Joio -provided a workable and efficient score, and Oliver Smith designed a -back-stage scene that looked like back-stage. The costumes were designed -by Alvin Colt. - -Another first choreographic effort was young John Taras’s _Graziana_, -for which I paid the costs. Here was no attempt to ape the Broadway -musical comedy theatre. It was a straightforward, fresh, classical -piece. Taras had set the work to a Violin Concerto by Mozart. He used a -concise group of dancers, seventeen all told, four of whom were -soloists. There was no story, simply dancing with no excuses, no -apologies, no straining for “novelty,” tricks, stunts, or gags. It was, -in effect, ballet, and the public liked it. Just what the title meant I -never knew. My guess is that Taras had to call it something, and -_Graziana_ was better than Number One. - -The Robbins work came directly from Broadway, or the Avenue of the -Americas, to be precise. It was called _Interplay_, and had originally -been done for a variety show at the Ziegfeld Theatre. It was Robbins’s -second work. It was merely a piece of athletic fun. It was a genuine -hit. For music it had Morton Gould’s _Interplay Between Piano and -Orchestra_, which he had originally written for a commercial radio -programme as a brief concert piece for José Iturbi, with orchestra. The -“interplay” in the dance was that between classical dance and “jive.” -Actually what emerged was a group of kids having a lot of fun. For once, -in a long while, I could relax and smile when I saw it, for this was a -period when I had little time for relaxation and even less cause to -smile. - -The production of Stravinsky’s _Firebird_ is something with which I -shall deal separately. There was still another season to tour and a -spring season at the Metropolitan Opera House, in 1946. In outlining the -productions and chronology of Ballet Theatre during this period, I have -tried to be as objective as possible so that the organization’s public -history may be a matter of record. Its private history, in so far as my -relations are concerned, is quite another matter. - -The troubles, the differences, the discussions, the intrigues of de -Basil and his group, of Universal Art were, for the most part, all of a -piece. I cannot say I ever got used to them, but I was prepared for -them. I knew pretty much the pattern they would follow, pretty much what -to expect. Being forewarned, I was forearmed. With Ballet Theatre I had -expected something different. Here I was not dealing with the -involutions and convolutions of the Cossack and the Slavic mind. Here, I -felt, would be an American approach. If, as a long-time American, I felt -I knew anything about the American people, one of their most distinctive -and noteworthy characteristics was their honesty of approach, their -straightforwardness, directness, frankness. Alas, I was filled with -disillusionment on this point. Ballet Theatre, in its approach to any -problem where I was concerned, had a style very much its own: full of -queer tricks, evasions, omissions, and unexpected twists of mind and -character, as each day disclosed them. - -There were two chief bones of contention. One was the billing. I have -pointed out the lack of public interest in Ballet Theatre when I took it -over and how the very title worked to its disadvantage. If ballet is to -remain a great, universal entertainment in this country, and is, by the -purchase of tickets at the box-office, to help pay its own way, at -least in part, we must have a great mass audience as well as “devotees.” - -The other bone of contention, and the one which eventually caused the -rupture of our association, was the matter of guest artists. The -opposition to guest artists was maintained on an almost hysterical -level. There were, as in every discussion, two sides to the question. -Reasonably stated, Lucia Chase’s argument could have been that Ballet -Theatre was an organic whole; that it was an instrument with the -sensitivity of a symphony orchestra, and “stars” damaged such a -conception. As a matter of fact, it was her basic argument. The -argument, plausible enough on the surface, does not, however, stand up -under examination, for the comparison with a symphony orchestra does not -hold. - -Lacking the foresight and wisdom to keep the members of her company -under contract, each season there were presented to Miss Chase a flock -of new faces, new talents, unfamiliar with the repertoire, trained in a -variety of schools with a corresponding variety of styles; it took them -months to become a fully functioning and completely integrated part of -Miss Chase’s “organic whole.” Great symphony orchestras hold their -players together jealously year after year. Great symphony orchestras -manage to reduce their colossal deficits to some extent by the -engagement of distinguished soloists to appear with their “organic -wholes.” Such is the present state of musical appreciation in this -country that it is an open secret that in many cities the way to sell -out, or nearly sell out the house, is to engage soloists with box-office -appeal. I do not here refer to such great symphonic bodies as the Boston -Symphony Orchestra, the Philadelphia Orchestra, the New York -Philharmonic-Symphony Orchestra, but I do refer to those symphonic -bodies in those many cities that are something less than metropolitan -centers. Nor do I mean to suggest that this situation is one to be -commended or applauded, or that it represents the ultimate desired -_raison d’être_ for the existence of a symphony orchestra. But I do -suggest it is the only system feasible in the perilous situation today -in which our symphonic bodies are compelled to operate. - -The analogy between ballet and symphony in this view is not apposite. -Again there was no attempt on Miss Chase’s part to understand the -situation; there was merely stubborn, unrelenting opposition after -recrimination. It should be recorded that J. Alden Talbot during his -tenure as general manager of Ballet Theatre fully realized and -understood the situation and shared my feelings. I remember one day in -Montreal when I had a conference with Lucia Chase to go over the entire -matter of guest artists. I listened patiently to her mounting hysteria. -I pointed out that, as the company became better known throughout the -country, as the quality of public ballet appreciation improved, the -company of youngsters might be able to stand on their own _pointes_; but -that, since the company and its personnel were as yet unknown, it would -require infinite time, patience, and money to build them up in the -consciousness of the public; and that, meanwhile, at this point in the -company’s existence, the guest stars gave a much needed fillip to the -organization, and that, to put it bluntly, they were a great relief to -some of the public, at any rate; for the great public has always liked -guest stars and some local managements have insisted on them; of that -the box-office had the proof. It was my contention that the guest star -principle had been responsible for American interest in ballet. I hope -the reader will pardon me if I link that system, coupled with my own -love, enthusiasm, and faith in ballet, with the popularity that ballet -has in this country today. There is such a thing as an unbecoming -modesty, and I dislike wearing anything that is unbecoming. - - -_TAMARA TOUMANOVA_ - -It was during the 1945-1946 season, for example, that I engaged Tamara -Toumanova as a guest artist. In addition to appearing in _Swan Lake_, -_Les Sylphides_, and various classical _pas de deux_, I had Bronislava -Nijinska stage a short work she called _Harvest Time_, to the music of -Henri Wieniawski, orchestrated by Antal Dorati, in which Toumanova -appeared with John Kriza, supported by a small _corps de ballet_. The -association, I fear, was not too happy for any of us, including the -“Black Pearl.” There was a resentment towards her on the part of some of -the artists, and Toumanova, over-anxious to please, almost literally -danced her head off; but the atmosphere was not conducive to her best -work. - -Having watched Toumanova from childhood, knowing her as I do, it is not -easy, nor is it a simple matter for me to draw an objective portrait of -her, as she is today. One thing I shall _not_ do, and that is to go very -deeply into biographical background. That she was born in a box-car in -Siberia, while her parents were escaping into China from the Russian -Revolution, is a tale too often told--as are the stories of her -beginnings as a dancer in Paris with Olga Preobrajenska, and an -appearance at the Paris Trocadero on a Pavlova programme, at the age of -five or so. - -It was her father, Vadim Boretszky-Kasadevich, who called a temporary -halt to the child prodigy business, by insisting that dance be suspended -for a year until she could do some school work. - -Discovered at Preobrajenska’s school by George Balanchine, he placed her -with the de Basil company, and for a half-dozen years she remained -there, save for a brief interlude with Balanchine’s short-lived _Les -Ballets 1933_. - -It was that same year that I brought the de Basil company to America the -first time, where she joined the trinity of “baby ballerinas”--Baronova -and Riabouchinska, of course, being the other two. It is a matter of -history how Toumanova became the American rotogravure editors’ delight; -how America became Toumanova-conscious. - -Strong, remarkably strong though her technique was even in those days, -her performances were frequently uneven. Toumanova was a temperamental -dancer then, as now, and to those who know only her svelte, slender, -mature beauty of today, there may be some wonder that in those days she -had to fight a recurring tendency towards _embonpoint_, and excessive -_embonpoint_. But there were always startling brilliancies. In _Jeux -d’Enfants_ and _Cotillon_, I remember the dazzling _fouetées_. It is one -of Toumanova’s boasts that she was the first dancer to do thirty-two -double _fouetées_ and sixteen triples in actual performance. I am not an -authority on these technical matters and can, therefore, merely record -the statement. - -Her unsuccessful Broadway appearance (a musical called _Stars in Your -Eyes_) was followed by a reunion with the de Basil Company in Australia -and a short season with him at the Hollywood Theatre, in New York; and -there was a later sojourn with the Massine Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. -Then Hollywood beckoned. There was one film in which she played an -acting part, _Days of Glory_. The picture was certainly not much to talk -about, but she married the producer-writer, Casey Robinson. - -Since then, she has turned up as guest-artist with one organization -after another: the Paris Opera Ballet, the Marquis de Cuevas company, -Anton Dolin’s Festival Ballet in London, the San Francisco Civic Ballet; -a nomadic balletic existence, interrupted by another Hollywood film -appearance, this time in the role of Pavlova in _Tonight We Sing_, based -on my earlier book, _Impresario_. - -As a person there is something about her that is at once naive and -ingenuous and, at the same time, deep and grave and tragic. She cries -still when she is happy, and is also able to cry when she is sad. She -adores to be praised; but, unlike some other dancers I know, she is also -anxious for criticism. She solicits it. And when she feels the -criticism is sound, she does her best to correct--at least for the -moment--the faults that have prompted it. Her devotion to her -mother--“Mamochka”--herself an attractive, voluble, and highly emotional -woman, is touching and sometimes a shade pathetic. Toumanova’s whole -life, career, and story have been, for the most part, the -thrice-familiar tale of the White Russian _émigré_. Like all _émigré_ -stories, hers is extremely sentimental. Sentiment and sentimentality -play a big part in Tamara’s life. - -She is, I feel, unbreakable, unquenchable. She is, in her maturity, even -more beautiful than she was as a “baby ballerina.” She is, I suppose, -precisely the popular conception of what a glamorous _ballerina_ is, or -at least should be. Her personality is that of a complete theatrical -extrovert. The last row of the gallery is her theatre target. Hers is -not a subtle personality. It is a sort of motion picture idea of a -_ballerina assoluta_, a sort of reincarnation of the fascinating -creatures from whose carriages adoring balletomanes unhitched the horses -and hauled them to Maxim’s for supper, dining the course of which the -creatures were toasted in vintage champagne drunk from slippers. It -doesn’t really matter that her conception is a bit dated. With Toumanova -it is effective. - -Tamara’s conception of the ballerina in these terms is deliberate. She -admits her desire is to smash the audience as hard as she can. With her -a straight line is veritably the shortest distance between two points, -and no _ballerina_ makes the distance between herself and her audience -so brief. This conception has been known to lead to overacting and to -the ignoring of the colleagues with whom she is dancing at the time. - -There is with her, as ever, great charm, an eager enthusiasm, and I am -happy to say, a fine sense of loyalty. This is a quality I particularly -appreciate. It has been shown to me on more than one occasion. When I -brought the Paris Opera Ballet for the New York City Festival, Tamara -was not nor had she been at that time a member of the Paris Opera -Company. She barely knew Lifar, yet it was she who became his champion -in New York. It was a calculated risk to her career which she took, -because she respected Lifar as an artist, did not believe the stories -about him, and was interested in fair play. - -As I watch Toumanova today, I see but an extension in time, space and -years of the “baby ballerina” in her adult personality; there is still -an extravagant and dazzling glamor; there is still steely technique; -there is still a childlike naivete about her, even when she tries to be -ever so sophisticated; everything about her is still dramatic and -dramatized. And there is still “Mamochka,” in constant attendance, -helping, criticizing, urging; and although Tamara has been happily -married for a decade or so, “Mamochka” is still the watchdog. Many -ballet “mamas” are not only difficult, but some of them are overtly -disliked. Toumanova’s mother is another category. She has been at all -times a fine and constructive help to Tamara, both with practical -assistance and theoretical advice. - -Tamara’s approach to the dance is beautiful to observe. Her devotion to -ballet amounts almost to a religion. Nothing under the sun is more -important to her than her work, her attendance at lessons. Nothing ever -is permitted to interfere with these. - -I firmly believe that such is her concentration and devotion to her work -that, if a fire were to break out back-stage during a performance while -Tamara was in the midst of her fabulous _fouetées_, she would continue -with them, completely unperturbed, more intent on _fouetées_ than on -fire. - -The Montreal discussions with the Ballet Theatre direction on the -subject of guest stars produced no understanding of the situation; only -the tiresomely reiterated, “It’s a sacrilege! It’s a crime!” - -What was a “crime” then, was a sheer necessity. Let us look, for a -moment, at the Ballet Theatre situation today, after it is no longer -under my management, but entirely on its own, responsible for its own -destiny. During the last year of our association, following the -resignation of J. Alden Talbot as managing director, as I have pointed -out, Lucia Chase, who pays the bills, and Oliver Smith became joint -managing directors. They were running the company when we came to a -parting of the ways. It was they who protested most bitterly over the -guest-star system. Now, with the company, after thirteen years of -existence, presumably established, Miss Chase is firmly perpetrating the -same “crime” herself. I certainly do not object to it. But surely what -was a “sacrilege,” what was a “crime” at the time I was responsible for -their perpetration, must, now that the Ballet Theatre is on its own, no -longer be either sacrilegious or criminal. - -Another recurring trouble source and the cause of many a contentious -discussion was the question of new productions. The arguments and -conferences over them were seemingly endless. Now the question of new -productions is one of the most vital and important in ballet management, -and one of the most pressing. All ballet management contracts call for a -ballet company to supply a certain number of new works each year. The -reason for this is that there must be a constant flow of new ballets in -a repertoire in order to attract the attention of both the critics and -the public. Standard works form the core of any repertoire and at least -one is necessary on every programme. But ballet itself, in order to keep -from becoming stagnant, must refresh itself by constantly expanding its -repertoire. Frequently, in contrast to the undying classics, nothing can -be deader than last years “novelty.” My contractual arrangement provides -that the management shall have the right either to accept or reject new -work as being acceptable or otherwise. - -As time went on, many of the new works produced, some of which were -accepted by me against my sounder judgment, proved, as I feared, to be -unacceptable to the general public throughout the country. It should be -clearly understood that ballet cannot live on New York alone. America is -a large continent, and the hinterland audiences, while lacking, perhaps, -some of the quality of sophistication of metropolitan audiences, are -highly selective and quite as critical today as are their New York -counterparts. A New York success is by no means an assurance of a like -reception in Kalamazoo or Santa Barbara. Ballet needs both Santa Barbara -and Kalamazoo, as it needs New York. The building of repertoire should -be the joint task of the company direction and the management--since -their desired ends are the same, viz., the successful continuation of -the organization. Repertoire is a responsible and exceedingly demanding -task. - -It certainly required no clairvoyance on my part to discern a very -definite antagonism toward any repertoire suggestions I offered. Certain -types of ballets were badly needed and were not forthcoming. Perhaps I -can most clearly illustrate my point by recapitulating the Ballet -Theatre repertoire at the time we parted company. - -There were: Fokine’s heritage--_Les Sylphides_, _Carnaval_, (no longer -in repertoire), _Petroushka_ (no longer in repertoire), _Spectre de la -Rose_ (no longer in repertoire), plus two creations, _Bluebeard_, and -_Russian Soldier_ (no longer in repertoire). Andrée Howard had staged -_Death and the Maiden_ and _Lady Into Fox_ (both dropped before I took -over the company). Bronislava Nijinska had revived _La Fille Mal -Gardée_ and _The Beloved One_ (no longer in the repertoire). Anton Dolin -had revived _Swan Lake_, _Giselle_ (now performed in a Balanchine -version), _Princess Aurora_ (now touched up by Balanchine), and had -created _Quintet_ (dropped after the first season), _Capriccioso_ -(dropped in the second season), _Pas de Quatre_ (now done in a version -by Keith Lester), and _Romantic Age_ (no longer in the repertoire). -Leonide Massine had revived _The Fantastic Toy Shop_, _Capriccio -Espagnol_, and _The Three-Cornered Hat_ (all out of repertoire). He had -produced three new works, _Don Domingo_, _Aleko_, and _Mlle. Angot_, -none of which was retained in the repertoire. Antony Tudor had revived -_The Lilac Garden_, _Judgment of Paris_, _Dark Elegies_, _Gala -Performance_, and had produced _Pillar of Fire_, _Romeo and Juliet_, -_Dim Lustre_, and _Undertow_, none of which remain. Agnes de Mille had -produced _Black Ritual_, _Three Virgins and a Devil_, and _Tally-Ho_, -none of which is actively in the repertoire. José Fernandez had produced -a Spanish work, _Goyescas_, which lasted only the first season. David -Lichine had revived _Graduation Ball_, and had produced _Helen of Troy_ -and _Fair at Sorotchinsk_ (the latter no longer in repertoire). Adolph -Bolm had revived his _Ballet Mecanique_ (first season life only), -produced _Peter and the Wolf_, a perennial stand-by, and the short-lived -version of _Firebird_. John Taras had contributed _Graziana_, and Simon -Semenoff a version of _Coppélia_ and _Gift of the Magi_, neither of the -three existing today. Jerome Robbins’s _Fancy Free_ and _Interplay_ -remain while his _Facsimile_ has been forgotten. Balanchine had revived -_Apollo_, _Errante_, and had produced _Waltz Academy_, all of which have -disappeared. - -In order to save the curious reader the trouble of any computation, this -represents a total of fifty-one ballets either produced during my -association with Ballet Theatre or else available at the time we joined -hands. From this total of fifty-one, a round dozen are performed, more -or less, today. A cursory glance will reveal that the repertoire was -always deficient in classical works. They are the backbone of ballet. It -is to be regretted that the Tudor ballets, which were the particular -glory of Ballet Theatre, have been lost to the public. - -I shall not labor the point of our differences, save to cite one work as -an example. That is the production of _Firebird_. This was the first -Stravinsky ballet for Diaghileff, and was first revealed in Fokine’s -original production at the Paris Opera in the Diaghileff season of 1910, -with Tamara Karsavina in the title role, Fokine himself as the handsome -Tsarevich, Enrico Cecchetti as the fearsome Kastchei, and Vera Fokina -as the beautiful Tsarevna whom the Tsarevich marries at the end. In -later productions Adolph Bolm took Fokine’s place as the Tsarevich. The -original settings and costumes were by Golovine. For a later Diaghileff -revival the immensely effective production by Nathalie Gontcharova was -created. This was the production revealed here by the de Basil company, -a quite glorious spectacle. - -_Firebird_ had always been a popular work when well done. From a musical -point of view it has been one of the most popular works in the -Stravinsky catalogue, both in orchestral programmes and over the radio. -One of the surest ways to attract the public to ballet is through -musical works of established popularity. This does not mean works that -are cheap or vulgar, for vulgarity and popularity are by no stretch of -the imagination synonymous: it means _Swan Lake_, _The Nutcracker_, _The -Sleeping Beauty_, _Schéhérazade_, _Coppélia_, _Petroushka_, -_Firebird_--I mention only a few--the music of which has become -familiar, well-known, and loved through the medium of radio and -gramophone recordings. This is the music that brings people to ballets -of which it is a part. - -Miss Chase was flatly opposed to _Firebird_. Her co-director had no -choice but to follow her lead. I was insistent that _Firebird_ be given -as one of the new productions required under our contract for the season -1945-1946; and then the trouble began in earnest. - -There were various dissident elements in the Ballet Theatre -organization, as there are in all ballet companies. These elements had -no very clear idea of what they wanted, or for what they stood. Their -vision was cloudy, their aims vague, their force puny. The company -lacked not only any artistic policy, but also a managing director -capable of formulating one, and able to mould these various dissident -elements into what Miss Chase liked to call her “organic whole.” - -With the exception of J. Alden Talbot and German Sevastianov, there had -never been a managing director or manager worthy of the title or the -post. During the Talbot regime, my relations with the Ballet Theatre -were at their highest level. I always found Talbot helpful, -understanding towards our mutual problems, cooperative, of assistance in -many ways. Because of his belief in the organization and his genuine -love for ballet, Talbot gave his services as general manager without fee -or compensation of any sort other than the pleasure of helping the -company. It is almost entirely thanks to Talbot that _Fancy Free_ -achieved production. Talbot was also instrumental in founding and -maintaining an organization known as _Ballet Associates_, later to -become _Ballet Associates in America_, since the function of the society -is to cultivate ballet in general in America in the field of -understanding, and, more specifically and particularly, to encourage, -promote and foster those creative workers whose artistic collaboration -makes ballet possible, viz., choreographers, composers, and designers. -The practical function of the society is very practical indeed, for it -means finding that most necessary fuel: money. The organization, through -the actively moving spirit of J. Alden Talbot, sponsored by substantial -contributions no less than four Ballet Theatre productions: Tudor’s -_Pillar of Fire_ and _Romeo and Juliet_, Agnes de Mille’s _Tally-Ho_, -and Dolin’s _Romantic Age_. It was entirely responsible for Michael -Kidd’s _On Stage!_ - -A cultured, able gentleman of charm, taste, and sensitivity, J. Alden -Talbot was the only person associated with Ballet Theatre direction able -to give it a sound direction, since he was able not only to shape a -definite policy, which is vastly important, but also to give it a sound -business management. - -Following Talbot’s departure, there came frequent changes in management, -changes seemingly made largely for purely personal reasons. At the time -of the stresses and strains over the inclusion of _Firebird_ into the -repertoire, although Lucia Chase and Oliver Smith were the titular -managing directors, there was no head to the organization and no -director or direction, in fact. Actually, caprice was at the helm and -Ballet Theatre had a flapping rudder, a faulty compass, with Chase and -Smith taking turns at the wheel trying to keep the badly listing ship -into the wind. Acting as manager was a former stage-manager, without -previous experience or any knowledge whatever of the intricate problems -of business management. With the enthusiasm of an earnest Boy Scout, he -commenced a barrage of bulletins and directives, and ludicrously -introduced calisthenics classes for the dancers, complete with -dumb-bells, down to the institution of his own conception of the -“Stanislavsky” method of dramatic expression, the latter taking the form -of setting the company to acting out charades on the trains while on -tour. - -Coincidental with this was increased intrigue and the outward expression -of his theme song, which he chanted to all within earshot, the burden of -which was: “How can we get rid of Hurok? How can we get rid of Hurok? -Who needs him?” - -The question of the _Firebird_ production was, as I have suggested, the -most contentious and controversial of any that arose in my relationships -with Ballet Theatre. - -_Firebird_ was hounded by troubles of almost every description, as each -day upturned them. Its production was marked by disputes, aggravations, -and untold difficulties from first to last. If history is to be -believed, that sort of thing has been its lot from its inception in the -Diaghileff days of 1910. - -The Adolph Bolm production eventually reached the stage of the -Metropolitan Opera House, after a series of vicissitudes, on the night -of the 24th October, 1945, with Alicia Markova in the title role, and -Anton Dolin in the role of Ivan Tsarevich, originally danced in the -Diaghileff production by Michel Fokine. - -The _Firebird_ is an expensive work to produce; there are numerous -scenes, each requiring its own setting and a large complement of -costumes. In order to help overcome some of the financial problems -involved, I agreed with Ballet Theatre to contribute a certain sum to -the cost of production. I shall have something more to say about this a -bit later. - -As for the work itself, I can only say that the conception and the -performance were infinitely superior to that which, in these latter -days, is given by the New York City Ballet, to which organization, as a -gesture, I gave the entire production for a mere token payment so far as -the original costs to me were concerned. - -Under my contractual arrangements with Ballet Theatre, the organization -was obligated to provide a new second ballet for the season. I felt -_Firebird_ had great audience-drawing possibilities. Ballet Theatre -insisted _Firebird_ was too expensive to produce and countered with the -suggestion that Antony Tudor would stage a work on the musical base of -Bartok’s _Concerto for Orchestra_. While this work would have been -acceptable to me, I could discover no evidence that it was in -preparation. - -Pursuing the matter of _Firebird_, Ballet Theatre informed me they were -not in a position to expend more than $15,000 in any production. I -suggested they prepare careful estimates on the cost of _Firebird_. This -was done--at least, they showed me what purported to be estimates--and -these indicated the costs would be something between $17,000 and -$20,000. Therefore, in order to ease their financial burden, I offered -to pay the costs of the production in excess of $15,000, but not to -exceed $5,000. And so it was, at last, settled. - -We had all agreed on a distinguished Russian painter, resident in -Hollywood, a designer of reputation, who not only had prepared a work -for Ballet Theatre, but whose contributions to ballet and opera with -other organizations had been considerable. - -Despite these arrangements, as time went on, there were definite -indications that _Firebird_ would not be ready for the opening date at -the Metropolitan Opera House, which had been agreed upon. No activity -concerning it was apparent, and Adolph Bolm, its choreographer, was -still in Hollywood. On the 15th September, I addressed an official -letter to Ballet Theatre concerning the delay. - -While no reply to this was forthcoming, I subsequently learned that, -without informing the original designer who had been engaged and -contracted to design the scenery and costumes, and who had finished his -task and had turned his designs over to the scene painters, without -informing the choreographer, without informing me, Ballet Theatre had -surreptitiously engaged another designer, who also was at work on the -same subject. We were now faced with two productions of the same work -which would, of course, require payment. - -A telephone call from Ballet Theatre to one of my staff, however, added -the interesting information that _Firebird_ (in any production) would -not be presented until I paid them certain moneys. The member of my -staff who received this message, quite rightly refused to accept the -message, and insisted it should be in writing. - -It was not until the 23rd October, the day before the work was scheduled -to be produced, that Oliver Smith, of the Ballet Theatre direction, -threatened officially to delay the production of _Firebird_ until I paid -them the sum they demanded. In other words, Ballet Theatre would not -present the Stravinsky work, and it would not open, unless I paid them -$11,824.87 towards its costs. These unsubstantiated costs included those -of _both_ productions, all in the face of my definite limitation of -$5,000 to be paid on _one_ production, since it was impossible to -imagine that there would be _two_ of them. - -Here was an ultimatum. The Metropolitan Opera House was already sold out -to an audience expecting to see the new _Firebird_. All-out advertising -and promotion had been directed towards that event. The ultimatum was, -in effect, no money, no production. - -It was, in short, a demand for money under duress, for which there is a -very ugly word. At any rate, here was a _bona fide_ dispute, a matter to -be discussed; and I suggested that Ballet Theatre submit the matter to -arbitration, both disputants agreeing, of course, to be bound by the -arbiter’s decision. - -Lucia Chase, Oliver Smith, and Ballet Theatre’s new general manager -refused to submit the matter to arbitration. The ultimatum remained: no -money, no performance. The sold-out house had been promised _Firebird_. -The public was entitled to see it. - -I paid them $11,824.87, the sum they demanded, under protest, noting -this money was demanded and paid under duress. _Firebird_ had its first -performance the next night, as scheduled. Meanwhile, the dress-rehearsal -that afternoon had been marked by a succession of scenes that can only -be characterized as disgraceful, the whole affair being conducted in an -atmosphere of tensity, ill-feeling, carping, with every possible -obstacle being placed in the way of a satisfactory performance and -devoid of any spirit of cooperation. - -It soon became apparent to me that the troubles attendant upon the -_Firebird_ production were merely symptomatic of something much larger, -something much more sinister; something that was, in effect, a -conspiracy to break the contract between us, a contract which was to -continue for yet another season. - -I learned through reliable sources that Ballet Theatre was -surreptitiously attempting to secure bookings on their own with some of -the local managers with whom I had booked them in the past, and with -whom I was endeavoring to make arrangeents for them for the ensuing -season. On the 28th February, I served official notice on the -directorate of Ballet Theatre calling upon them to cease this illegal -and unethical practice, and, at the same time, notified all managers of -my contract with the organization. - -It was early in our 1946 spring engagement at the Metropolitan Opera -House, and I was working alone one evening in my office. It was late, -the staff having long since left, and I continued at my desk until it -was time for me to leave for the Metropolitan Opera House. I had not -dined, intending to have a bite in Sherry’s Bar during one of the -intervals. As I was crossing the by now deserted and partly darkened -lower lobby of my office building, a stranger lunged forward from the -shadows and thrust a sheaf of papers into my hand, then hurried into the -street. Surprised, astonished, puzzled, I returned to my office to -examine them. - -The papers were a summons and complaint from Ballet Theatre. Although -my contract with the organization had another year still to run, Lucia -Chase and Oliver Smith were attempting to cancel the contract in -mid-season. The grounds on which the action was based, as were -subsequently proved, had no basis in fact. - -But the company was slipping. It had no policy, no one capable of -formulating or maintaining one. It was losing valuable members of its -personnel, some of whom could no longer tolerate the whims and -capriciousness of “Dearie,” as Chase was dubbed by many in the company. -Jerome Robbins had gone his way. Dorati, who gave the organization the -only musical integrity and authority it had, had departed. Others, I -knew, were soon to be on their way. Dry rot was setting in. As matters -stood, with the direction as it was, I had no assurance of any permanent -survival for it. The company continued from day to day subject to the -whims of Lucia Chase. The result was insecurity for the dancers, with -all of them working with a weather-eye peeled for another job. One more -season of this company, I felt, and I would be responsible for dragging -a corpse about the country, unless, of course, I should myself become a -corpse. - -Ballet Theatre’s lawyers and my trusted counsel of many years’ standing, -Elias Lieberman, arranged a settlement of our contract. Among its -clauses was a proviso that the properties for _Firebird_ remained my -property, together with a cash payment to me of $12,000. - -When the final papers were signed, we all shook hands. The parting -between us may be described as “friendly.” - - * * * * * - -What the future of Ballet Theatre may be, I have no way of knowing. I am -not a prophet; I am a manager. Ballet Theatre’s subsequent career has -not been particularly eloquent; not especially fortunate. There has been -a period when there was no ballet season, with the decision to spend a -“sabbatical” coming so late that many artists were left with no -employment at a time of the year when all other possibilities for work -with other companies had been exhausted. My own feeling, while wishing -them well, is that, so long as Ballet Theatre continues to have no -categorical policy or practice, and so long as it attempts to continue -with expediency dictating its equivocal programme, its future is -circumscribed. It is an axiom that a ballet company’s character is -determined by the personality of its director. - -However many collaborators Miss Chase may have on paper, Ballet Theatre -is and will remain her baby. Co-directors, advisory boards, even the -tax-exempt, non-profit organization called Ballet Theatre Foundation, -formed in 1947, as a “sponsoring” group, do not alter the fact that Miss -Chase is its sponsor. She pays the piper and the organization will dance -to his melody. Sponsoring groups of the type I have mentioned have -little value or meaning today. Ballet will not achieve health by -dripping economic security down from the top. The theory that propping -can be done by this method of dripping props from the top, does not mean -from the top of ballet, but, hopefully, from the top of the social and -financial worlds. - -Healthy ballet cannot come, in my opinion, from being treated as an -outlet or excuse for parties, nor from parties as an adjunct to ballet. -The patronage of the social world in such organizations is practically -meaningless today. It was useful, in bygone days, to have a list of -fancy names out of the Blue Book as patrons. The large paying audience -which ballet must have, and which I have developed through the years, -certainly pays no attention to social patronage today. As a matter of -fact, I suspect they resent it. The only people conceivably impressed by -such a list of names would be a handful of social climbers and society -columnists. The only patrons worth the ink to print their names are -those who pay for tickets at the box-office, average citizens, even as -you and I. - -Ballet cannot pay for itself, for new productions, for commissioned -works, by its box-office takings, any more than can opera or symphony -orchestras. The only future I can see is some form of Government subsidy -for ballet and the other arts. Some of our leading spirits in the fields -of art are opposed to this idea. This is difficult for me to understand. -I cannot conceive how there could be any hesitancy on that score. We -know that in Great Britain and in most countries of Europe the arts, -including ballet, are subsidized by the Government. These countries are -not Communist-dominated. Here in the United States many big businesses -are subsidized by the Government in one form or another, at one time or -another. There are the railways, the airlines, the shipping companies, -the mine subsidies, the oil subsidies--and the something like -twenty-seven-and-one-half percent deduction allowed annually on new -buildings erected is also a form of subsidy. - -In the United States only the arts and the artists are taboo when it -comes to Government help. I do not suggest that any of the arts should -be dependent upon charity, either by individuals or foundations. I feel -it is the plain duty of Government and of the lawmakers to finance and -subsidize the arts: ballet, orchestras, opera, painters, sculptors, -writers, composers. - -A country with the tremendous wealth we have should not have to depend -on charity or hobbyists for the advancement of culture and cultural -activities. - -Since we still lack what I feel is the only proper form of cultural -subsidy, we needs must get on as best we can with the private hobbyist -support. In this respect, Lucia Chase has been an extremely generous -sponsor of Ballet Theatre. I have said that a ballet company’s character -is determined by the personality of its director. I should like to add, -by the personality of its sponsor as well. Let us look at the -personality of Lucia Chase. - -With a fortune compounded in unequal parts of Yonkers Axminster and -Waterbury Brass, her largess has been tossed with what has seemed akin -to reckless abandon. A lady of “middle years,” she was born in -Waterbury, Connecticut, one of several children of a member of the Chase -Brass Company clan. A cultured lady, she went to the “right” finishing -school, did the “right” things, and, it is said, early evinced an -interest in singing and in the theatre. She married Thomas Ewing, to -whom the sobriquet, “the Axminster carpet tycoon,” has been applied. On -his death, Miss Chase was left with a fortune and two sons. Her -distraction over the loss of her husband, so it is said, drove her to an -early love as a possible means of assuaging her grief, viz., the dance. -She took ballet lessons from Mikhail Mordkin; financed the newly formed -Mordkin Ballet; in 1937, became its _prima ballerina_. So far as the -record reveals, her debut was made in the Brass City of her birth, in no -less a role than the Princess Aurora in _The Sleeping Beauty_. - -As a dancer, she is an excellent comedienne; yet for years she fancied -herself as a classical _ballerina_. Her insistence on dancing in such -ballets as _The Sleeping Beauty_, _Giselle_, _Pas de Quatre_, -_Petroushka_, _Princess Aurora_, and most of all, _Les Sylphides_, was -so regrettable that it raises the question that, if she is so -unconscious of her own limitations as a dancer, what are her -qualifications for the directorship of a ballet company? - -At the beginning of every venture, at the inception of every new idea, -Lucia Chase bursts with a remarkable, pulsating enthusiasm. Then, after -a time, turning a deaf ear to the voice of experience, and discovering -to her astonishment that things have not worked out as she expected, she -sulks, tosses all ideas of policy aside, and then turns impatiently and -impulsively to something that is in the way of a new adventure. Off she -goes on a new tack. Eagerly and rashly she grasps frantically at the -next idea or suggestion forthcoming from any one who is, at that moment, -in favor. So, she thinks, this time I have got it!... The pattern -repeats itself endlessly and expensively. - -It started thus, with her financing of the Mordkin Ballet, before the -days of Ballet Theatre. With the Mordkin Ballet, aside from financing -it, she danced; danced the roles of only the greatest _ballerinas_. This -pleasure she had. So far as operating a ballet company is concerned, she -still leaps about without a policy, and each time the result seems -unhappily to follow the same disappointing pattern. - -Above all, Lucia Chase has what amounts to sheer genius for taking the -wrong advice and for surrounding herself with, for the most part, -inexperienced, unqualified, and mediocre advisers. Her most successful -years were those when, by happy chance rather than by any design, the -organization was managed and directed by the able J. Alden Talbot, -informed gentleman of taste and business ability. It was during the -Talbot regime that Miss Chase had her smallest deficits and Ballet -Theatre attained its period of highest achievement. - -When left to her own devices, Miss Chase is, so far as policy is -concerned, uncertain, undetermined, irresolute, and meandering. The -future of Ballet Theatre as a serious institution in our cultural life -is questionable, in my opinion, because Miss Chase, after all these -years, has not yet learned how to conduct or discipline a ballet -company; has not learned that important policy decisions are not made -because of whims. Because of these things, the organization as it -stands, possesses no real and firm basis for sound artistic achievement, -progress, or permanence. There is no indication of personality, or -color, or any real authority in the company’s conduct. More and more -there are indications or intimations of some sort of middle-of-the-road -policy--if it really is policy and not a temporary whim; even so there -is no indication whatsoever of the destination towards which the vehicle -is bound. - -With lavish generosity, Lucia Chase has spent fantastic sums of money on -Ballet Theatre and on its predecessor, the Mordkin Ballet. Since Ballet -Theatre is a non-profit organization and corporation, a substantial part -of this money may be said to be the taxpayer’s money, since it is -tax-exempt. Since the ultimate aim of the organization has not been -attained, since it has not assumed aesthetic responsibility, or -respected vital tradition, or preserved significant masterpieces of -every style, period, and origin, as does an art museum, and as was -announced and avowed to be its intention; since it has not succeeded in -educating the masses for ballet; it must be borne in mind that the -remission of taxes in such cases is largely predicated upon the -educational facets of such an organization whose taxes are remitted. - -I would be the last person to deny that Miss Chase has made a -contribution to ballet in our time. To do so would be ridiculous. But I -do insist that, whatever good she has done, almost invariably she has -negated it and contradicted it by an impulsive capriciousness. - - - - -11. Indecisive Interlude: -De Basil’s Farewell and -A Pair of Classical Britons - - -With Ballet Theatre gone its own way, I was placed in a serious -predicament. According to a long established and necessary custom, -bookings throughout the country are made at least a season in advance. -This is imperative in order that theatres, halls, auditoriums may be -properly engaged and so that the local managers may arrange their -series, develop their promotional campaigns, sell their tickets, thus -reducing to as great an extent as possible the element of risk and -chance involved. - -Since my contract with Ballet Theatre had had one more year to run, the -transcontinental bookings for the Ballet Theatre company had been made -for the entire season. It was necessary for me to keep faith with the -local managers who had built their seasons around ballet and, since -local managers have faith both in me and in the quality of the ballet I -present, I was on a spot. The question was: what to do? - -Something had to be done to fulfil my obligations. I had no regrets -about the departure of Ballet Theatre, other than that personal wrench I -always feel at parting company with something to which I have given so -much of myself. The last weeks with Ballet Theatre added nothing but -trouble. There was a ludicrous contretemps in the nation’s capital. -Jascha Horenstein, for some reason known only to himself, put down his -baton before the beginning of the long coda at the end of _Swan Lake_, -and walked out of the pit. As he departed, he left both the dancers and -the National Symphony Orchestra players suspended in mid-air, with -another five minutes left for the climax of the ballet. As a -consequence, the performance ended in a debacle. - -Matters balletic were in a bad way. It is times such as these that -present me with a challenge. There is no easy solution; and frequently, -almost usually, such solutions as there are, are reached by trial and -error. This was no exception. - -I began the trial and error period by building up, as an experiment, the -Markova-Dolin company, with a group of dancers, including André Eglevsky -and soloists, together with a _corps de ballet_ largely composed of -Ballet Theatre personnel that had broken away because of dissatisfaction -of one sort or another. In addition to Markova, Dolin, and Eglevsky, the -company included Margaret Banks, a Sadler’s Wells trained dancer from -Vancouver, Roszika Sabo, Wallace Siebert, and others, with young John -Taras as choreographer and ballet-master. The reader who has come this -far will realize some of the problems involved in building up a -repertoire. Here we were, starting from scratch. - -The two basic works were a _Giselle_, staged by Dolin, with Markova in -her best role, and _Swan Lake_. In staging the second act of _Swan -Lake_, Dolin used a setting designed by the Marquessa de Cuevas for the -International Ballet. Dolin also mounted the last act of _The -Nutcracker_. John Taras staged a suite of dances from Tchaikowsy’s -_Eugene Onegin_; and the balance of the repertoire was made up from -various classical excerpts. - -Milwaukee, Chicago, and Detroit were selected as try-out towns in the -spring of 1946. The celestial stars that hung over the experiment cannot -be called benign. The well-worn adage that it never rains but it pours, -was hardly ever better instanced than in this case. It was the spring of -the nation-wide railway strike, and the dates of our performances -coincided with it. By grace of the calendar we managed to get the -company to Milwaukee, where the company’s first performances were given -at the old Pabst Theatre. By interurban street-car and trucks we got the -company to the Chicago Opera House. There the difficulties multiplied. -Owing to the firm restrictions placed upon the use of electricity in -public places, in order to conserve the dwindling coal supply, it was -impossible to light the Opera House auditorium or foyers, which were -swathed in gloom, broken only by faint spots of dull glow emanating from -a few oil lanterns. The current for the stage lighting was supplied from -a United States Coast Guard vessel, which we had, with great difficulty, -persuaded to move along the river side of the Opera House, to the -engine-room of which vessel we ran cables from the stage. The ship could -generate just enough “juice” for stage purposes only. That “just enough” -might have been precisely that in computed wattage; but it was direct -current. Our lighting equipment operated on alternating current, and, by -the time the “juice” was converted, the actual power was limited to the -point that, try as the technical staff did, the best we were able to -obtain was a sort of passable low visibility on the stage. - -To add to the general fun, the Coast Guard vessel broke loose from its -moorings, floated across the Chicago River, destroyed some pilasters of -the _Chicago Daily News_ and jammed the Randolph Street drawbridge of -the City of Chicago, adding to the general confusion, to say nothing of -the costs. - -When it came time for the company to move to Detroit, no trains were -running, and buses and trucks would not cross state lines. It took some -master-minding on the part of our staff to arrange to have the company, -baggage cars and all, attached to a freight train, which was carrying -permitted perishable fruits and vegetables. In Detroit, the slump had -set in. The feeling of depression engendered by the darkened buildings -and streets, the dimly-lighted theatres, the murk of stygian -restaurants, together with the fact that the Detroit engagement had to -be played at one of the “legitimate” theatres rather than at the Masonic -Temple which, for years, had been the local home for ballet, played -havoc with the engagement; people, bewildered by the situation, one -which was as darkness is to light, were discouraged and daunted. They -remained away from the theatre in droves and the losses were fantastic. - -Using the word in the best theatrical sense and tradition, it was a -catastrophe. Perhaps it was as well that it was; somehow I cannot -entirely reject the conviction that things more often than not work out -for the best, for as the company and the repertoire stood, it would not -fill the bill. Nor was there anything like sufficient time to build -either a company or a repertoire. - -The projected Markova-Dolin company was placed in mothballs. The -problems, so far as the ensuing season was concerned, remained critical. - -The Markova-Dolin combination was to emerge later in a different form. -For the present it marked time, while I pondered the situation, with no -solution in sight. - -At this crucial moment an old friend, Nicholas Koudriavtzeff, entered -the picture. An American citizen of long standing, by birth he was a -member of an old aristocratic Russian family. His manner, his life, his -thinking are Continental. A man of fine culture, he is an idealistic -business man of the theatre and concert worlds; a gentle, kind, able -person, with an irresistible penchant for getting himself involved, for -swimming in waters far beyond his depth, largely because of his -idealism, together with his warmheartedness and his gentleness. It is -this very gentleness, coupled with a certain softness, that makes it -almost impossible for him to say “no” to anyone. - -He is married to a former Diaghileff dancer and de Basil soloist, -Tatiana Lipkovska. They divide their homes between New York and Canada, -where he is one of the leading figures in Montreal’s musical-balletic -life, and where, on a gracious farm, he raises glorious flowers, fruits, -and vegetables for the Montreal market. His wife, in her ballet school, -passes on to aspiring pupils the sound tradition of the classical dance. -Koudriavtzeff had been mixed up in ballet, in one capacity or another, -for years. There was a time when he suffered from that contagious and -deplorable infliction: ballet gossip, in which he was a practiced -practitioner; but there are indications that he is well on his way to -recovery. He is a warm friend and a good colleague. - -Koudriavtzeff and I have something, I suspect, in common. Attracted and -attached to something early in life, a concept is formed, and we become -a part of that idea. From this springs a sort of congenital optimism, -and we are inclined to feel that, whatever the tribulations, all will -somehow work out successfully and to the happiness of all concerned. In -this respect, I put myself into the same category. I strongly suspect I -am infected with the same virus as Koudriavtzeff. - -One of my real pleasures is to linger over dinner at home. It is no -particular secret that I am something of a gourmet and I know of no -finer or more appropriate place to enjoy good food than at home. So, it -is with something of the sense of a rite that I try, as often as the -affairs of an active life permit, sometime between half-past six and -seven in the evening to have a quiet dinner at home with Mrs. Hurok. - -The telephone bell, that prime twentieth century annoyance, interrupted, -as it so often does, the evening’s peace. - -“Won’t they let you alone?” was Mrs. Hurok’s only comment. - -It was Koudriavtzeff. - -“Call me back in half an hour.” I said. - -He did. - -“I should like to talk with you, Mr. Hurok,” he said in the rather -breathless approach that is a Koudriavtzeff conversational -characteristic. - -Since he was already talking, I suggested he continue--over the -telephone. But no, this was not possible, he said. He must talk to me -privately; something very secret. Could he come to my home, there and -then? Was it a matter of business? I inquired. It was. I demurred. I had -had enough of business for one day. - -However, there was such urgency in Koudriavtzeff’s voice, after making -due allowance for an almost perpetual urgency with Koudriavtzeff, even -in discussing the weather, that I agreed. He must have telephoned from a -booth round the corner, for Koudriavtzeff arrived, breathless, almost as -soon as I had put down the instrument. - -We sat down over a glass of tea. For a few minutes the conversation -concerned itself with generalities. Since I did not feel especially -social, I brought the talk around to particularities. - -“Well, what can I do for you?” I inquired. - -The story came pouring out like water from a burst dam. It developed, as -I pieced it together, that Koudriavtzeff was trying to make certain -bookings for de Basil’s Original Ballet Russe on the way back from South -America. Although there were some bookings, he had not been able to -secure sufficient dates and, under the arrangement he had made with the -“Colonel,” Koudriavtzeff was obliged to deliver. That was not all. Not -only was he short with dates; he did not have the means with which to -make the necessary campaign, even if he had obtained the dates. - -I pondered the situation. - -“Is de Basil in South America?” I asked. - -“No,” replied Koudriavtzeff. “He is here in New York.” - -Somehow, I could not regard this as good news. - -I pondered the matter again. - -After all I had gone through with this man, I asked myself, why should I -continue to listen to Koudriavtzeff? If ever there was a time when I -should have said, firmly, unequivocally “to hell with ballet,” it was at -this moment. But I continued to listen. - -With one ear I was listening to the insistent refrain: “To hell with -ballet.” With the other, I was harking to my responsibilities to the -local managers, to my lease with the Metropolitan Opera House. - -Koudriavtzeff proceeded with his rapid-fire chatter. From it one -sentence came sharp and dear: - -“Will you please be so kind, Mr. Hurok? Will you, please, see de Basil?” - -It could have been that I was not thinking as clearly and objectively as -I should have been at that moment. - -I agreed. - -The next evening, de Basil, Koudriavtzeff, and I met. - -Mrs. Hurok sounded the warning. - -“I don’t object to your seeing him,” she said, “but you’re not going in -with him again?” - -The meetings were something I kept from the knowledge of my office for -several days. - -As I have pointed out before, de Basil was a Caucasian. The Caucasians -and the Georgians have several qualities in common, not the least of -which is the love of and desire for intrigue, coupled with infinite -patience, never-flagging energy, and nerves of steel. It was perfectly -possible for de Basil to sit for days and nights on end, occasionally -uttering a few words, silent for long, long periods, but waiting, -patiently waiting. It is these alleged virtues that make the Caucasians -the most efficient and successful members of those bodies whose job it -is to practice the delicate art of the third-degree: the O.G.P.U., the -N.K.V.D. - -I had agreed to meet de Basil, and now I was in for it. There was one -protracted meeting after another, with each seeming to merge, without -perceptible break, into the next. The “Colonel” had a “heart,” which he -coddled; he brought with him his hypochondriacal collection of “pills,” -some of which were for his “heart,” some for other uses. With their -help, he managed to keep wide awake but impassive through night after -night. Discussion, argument; argument, discussion. As the conferences -proceeded, de Basil reinforced his “pills” with his lawyers, this time -the omnipresent Lidji and Asa Sokoloff. - -No one could be more aware of the “Colonel’s” inherent avoidance of -honesty or any understandable code of ethics than I, yet he invariably -commenced every conversation with: “Now if you will only be sincere and -serious with me....” - -Always it was the other fellow who was insincere. - -Nearly all these meetings took place in the upper Fifth Avenue home of a -friend of de Basil’s, a former _Time_ magazine associate editor, where -he was a house-guest. I cannot imagine what sort of home life he and his -wife could have had during this period when, what with the long sessions -and the constant comings and goings, the place bore a stronger -resemblance to a committee room adjacent to an American political -convention than a quiet, conservative Fifth Avenue home. Not only was -the place crowded with antiques, for de Basil’s host was a “collector,” -but the “Colonel” had piled these pieces one on the top of another to -turn the place into a warehouse. It was during the after-war shortage of -food in Europe, whither the “Colonel” was repairing as soon as he could. - -Here, in his host’s home, the “Colonel” had opened his own package and -shipping department. Box upon box, crate upon crate of bulky foods: -mostly spaghetti. All sorts of foods: cost cheap, bulk large. - -This was the first time in my ballet career that I had written down a -repertoire on cases of spaghetti. As these meetings continued, and -took the toll of human patience and endurance, we were joined -by my loyal adjutant, Mae Frohman, who was served a sumptuous -dish of not particularly tasty but certainly very filling -Russo-Caucasian-Georgian-Bulgarian negotiations. - -It is not to be supposed that this period was brief. It went on for -nearly three weeks, day and night. - -One night progress was made; but before morning we were back where we -started. Miss Frohman begged me to call off the entire business, to get -out of it while the getting was good. The more she saw and heard, the -more certain she was that her intuition was right; this was something to -be given a wide berth. But I was in it now. There was no going back. - -Time, however, was running out. I had booked passage to fly to Europe. -The date approached, as dates have a way of doing, until we reached the -day before my scheduled departure. Mrs. Hurok remonstrated with me over -the whole business. - -“What good can come from this?” she protested. “Are you mad?” - -Perhaps I was. - -“What are you trying to do?” she went on. “Trying to kill yourself?” - -Perhaps I was. - -It was not a matter of trying; but it could be. - -While de Basil was working his way back from South America with his -little band, he managed to secure another engagement in Mexico City. It -was there that that interesting figure of the world of ballet and its -allied arts, the Marquis de Cuevas, saw the de Basil organization. The -Marquis, a colorful gentleman of taste and culture, is, perhaps, the -outstanding example we have today of the sincere and talented amateur in -and patron of the arts. He is a European-American, despite his South -American birth. He had a disastrous season of ballet in New York, in -1944, with his Ballet International, for which he bought a theatre, and -lost nigh on to a million dollars in a two-months’ season--which may, to -date, be the most expensive lesson in how not to make a ballet. Today -the Marquis’s company functions as a part of the European scene. During -his initial season in New York, he had created a reasonably substantial -repertoire, including four works of quality I felt could be added to the -de Basil repertoire in combination, in the event I succeeded in coming -to terms with the “Colonel.” These works were _Sebastian_, _The Mute -Wife_, _Constantia_, and _Pictures at an Exhibition_. - -After viewing the de Basil company in Mexico City, the Marquis had an -idea that it might be wise for him to join up with the “Colonel.” -Returning to New York, the Marquis came to me to discuss the matter. I -succeeded in dissuading him from investing and buying the worn-out -scenery, costumes, and properties, which were, to all intents and -purposes, valueless. - -The Marquis departed for France. As the protracted negotiations with de -Basil continued, I cabled the Marquis, informing him that I had parted -with Ballet Theatre, and that I was negotiating with de Basil. Pointing -out my obligations to the local managers, and to the Metropolitan Opera -House, I asked the Marquis if he would participate, or contribute a -certain amount of money, and add his repertoire to that of the -“Colonel.” - -The final de Basil conference before my scheduled departure for Europe -commenced early. The night wore on. We were again on the verge of -reaching an agreement. By two o’clock in the morning the possibility had -diminished and receded into the same vague, seemingly unattainable -distance where it had so long rested. Then, shortly after four o’clock, -the pieces suddenly all fell into place, with all of us, including Mae -Frohman, in a state of complete exhaustion, as the verbal agreement was -reached. The bland, imperturbable, expressionless de Basil was the sole -exception, at least to outward appearances. - -Since my Europe-bound plane was departing within a few hours, it was -necessary that all the voluminous documents be drawn up and signed -before my departure. The lawyers, Lidji, Sokoloff, and my own legal -adviser and friend, Elias Lieberman, worked on these as we sipped hot, -black coffee, for the millionth time. - -The sun was bright when we gathered round a table in the Fifth Avenue -apartment where de Basil was a guest, and affixed our signatures. - -It was six o’clock in the morning. - -At twelve o’clock my plane rose over La Guardia and headed for Paris. - -It was the first commercial plane to make the flight to Paris after the -War. Mrs. Hurok, Mae Frohman, and Mr. and Mrs. Artur Rubinstein were at -the field to wish me “bon voyage.” - -In Paris I met the Marquis and Marquessa de Cuevas, the latter a -gracious lady of charm and taste. Food was short in Paris, hard to find, -and of dubious quality. Somehow, the Marquessa had been able to secure a -chicken from her farm outside Paris, and we managed a dinner. I -explained the settlement I had made with de Basil to the Marquis, and -urged his cooperation joining de Basil as Artistic Director, hoping -that, as a result, something fine could be built, given time and -patience. Such an arrangement would also permit at least some of the -Marquis’s repertoire from deteriorating in the store-house, and bring -the works before a new and larger public. - -Carerras, the manager for the Marquis at the time, was flatly opposed to -de Cuevas cooperating in any way with the “Colonel,” but eventually de -Cuevas decided to do what, once again, proved to be the impossible, -viz., to collaborate with the Caucasian de Basil. - -This much having been settled, I went on to London, where I saw the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet at Covent Garden for the first time; shortly -afterwards I left for California, to spend a little time at my Beverly -Hills home which I had maintained during the war. - -On my arrival in California, there were messages from my office awaiting -me. They were disturbing. Already troubles were brewing. The de Basil -repertoire was in dubious condition. Something must be done, and at -once. Moreover, despite de Basil’s assurances, the repertoire was too -small in size and was inadequately rehearsed. I left for New York by the -first available plane. - -On my arrival in New York, I quickly made arrangements to send John -Taras, the young American who had been the choreographer and -ballet-master for the Markova-Dolin experiment, to South America to whip -the company into shape. With him went a group of American dancers to -augment the personnel. - -Meanwhile, as the days sped on, every conceivable difficulty arose over -getting the de Basil company and its repertoire out of South America. -There were financial troubles. As was so often the case, de Basil had no -money. But he did have debts and other liabilities that had to be -liquidated before the company could be permitted to move. One thing -piled on another. When these matters had been straightened out, the -climax came in the form of a general strike in Rio de Janeiro, with the -situation out of hand and shooting in the streets. This prevented the -company from embarking for New York; not only was it impossible for -passengers to board the ship, but neither scenery, properties, nor -luggage could be loaded. Further delay meant that they could not arrive -in New York in time for the mid-October opening at the Metropolitan -Opera House, which I had had engaged for months, and for which season -the advertising was in full swing, the promotional work done. - -Once again, fast action was necessary to save the situation. In New York -we had the de Cuevas repertoire, but no company. By long distance -telephone I got John Taras to leave Rio de Janeiro for New York by -plane. I engaged yet another group of artists here in New York, and -Taras, immediately upon his arrival, commenced rehearsals with this -third group on the de Cuevas repertoire, in order to have something in -readiness to fulfil my obligations in the event that the de Basil -company was unable to reach New York in time for the opening. It was, at -best, makeshift, but at least something would be ready. The season could -open on time, and faith would be kept. - -While these difficulties and problems were compounding, the “Colonel” -was far from the South American battlefield. He was safely in New York, -stirring up the already quite sufficiently troubled waters. - -I was more firmly convinced than ever before that to have two -closely-linked members of the same family in the same field of endeavor -is bad. Two singers in one family, I submit, is very bad. Two dancers in -one family is very, very bad. But when a manager or director of a ballet -company has a wife who is a dancer in his own company--that is the worst -of all. - -These profound observations are prompted by the marital complications -that provided the chief contentious bone of this period of stress. These -marital arrangements were two in number. De Basil’s first wife, who had -divorced him, had married the company’s choreographer, Vania Psota, the -creator of the late and unlamented _Slavonika_, of early Ballet Theatre -days, and both Psota and his wife were with the company, soon, I prayed, -to arrive in New York. De Basil, already in town, had married Olga -Morosova, one of the company’s artists. This was an additional -complication, for, although Morosova was only a soloist, upon her -marriage she had immediately been promoted to the role of the company’s -_prima ballerina_. All leading roles, de Basil insisted, must now be -danced by her. - -The arguments were almost continuous, and only a Caucasian could have -endured them, unscarred. The battle raged. - -To sum up, I should like to offer a word of caution. If you who read -these lines are a dancer, do not marry the manager. It cuts both ways: -if you are a manager, do not marry a dancer. If, by chance these lines -are read by one who has ambitions to become a ballet manager, do not -allow yourself any romantic connection with a dancer in the company. It -simply does not work, and it is not good for ballet, or for you. - -All of these continuing, persisting discussions served merely to speed -the days. Opening night was drawing perilously near, coming closer and -closer, while de Basil’s company and repertoire were still being held in -Rio de Janeiro by the general strike. The “Colonel” again needed money. -Unless the money he required was forthcoming, strike or no strike, the -company would not embark. Once again I was being held up, with the gun -at my back; on legal advice and out of sheer necessity, the money was -forthcoming. - -This type of blackmail, the demand for money under duress, was -threatening to become a habit in ballet, I felt. But, after all, if I -sought to allocate blame for the situation, there was no one to whom it -could be charged except myself. It was my own fault for having consented -to listen to the siren voice of Koudriavtzeff in the first place. No one -can make greater trouble for one, I believe, than one’s own self. I had -agreed to the whole unhappy business against the considered advice of -all those in whom I had confidence and faith. There was nothing to be -done but to see it through with as much grace as I could muster. I -determined, however, to take stock. This time I was certain. I was, at -last, satisfied that when this season finished, I was finished with -ballet. No more. Never again. - - * * * * * - -The de Basil crowd eventually arrived at a South Brooklyn pier, barely -in time, on a holiday afternoon before the Metropolitan opening. The -rush, the drive, the complicated business of clearing through customs -promised more headaches, more heartaches, and yet more unforeseen -expense. We now had two companies merged for the Metropolitan Opera -House engagement. In this respect we had been fortunate, for the de -Basil scenery and costumes were in a pitiable state of disrepair. Since -there was neither sufficient time nor money for their rehabilitation, we -provided both, and, meanwhile, had the advantage of the de Cuevas works. - -De Basil had been able to make but few additions to his repertoire -during the lean and long South American hegira. These were _Yara_ and -_Cain and Abel_. _Yara_ had been choreographed by Psota, to a score by -Francisco Mignone. It was a lengthy attempt to bring to the stage a -Brazilian legend. It had striking sets and costumes by Candido -Portinari, and little else. _Cain and Abel_ was a juicy tid-bit in which -David Lichine perpetrated a “treatment” of the Genesis tale to, of all -things, cuttings and snippets from Wagner’s _Die Götter-Dammerung_. It -was a silly business. - -The four works from the Marquis de Cuevas repertoire were given a wider -public, and helped a bad situation. _Sebastian_, with an excitingly -dramatic score by Gian-Carlo Menotti, his first for ballet, had been -staged by Edward Caton, in a setting by Oliver Smith. It made for a -striking piece of theatre. _The Mute Wife_ was a light but amusing -comedy, adapted by the American dancer-choreographer, Antonia Cobos, -from the familiar tale by Anatole France, _The Man Who Married a Dumb -Wife_, to Paganini melodies, principally his _Perpetual Motion_, -orchestrated by Vittorio Rieti. The third work, _Constantia_, was a -classical ballet by William Dollar, done to Chopin’s _Piano Concerto in -F Minor_, enlisting the services of Rosella Hightower, André Eglevsky, -and Yvonne Patterson. Its title, confusing to some, referred to Chopin’s -“Ideal Woman,” Constantia Gladowska, to whom the composer dedicated the -musical work. - -Thanks to Ballet Associates in America, there was one new work. It was -_Camille_, staged by John Taras, in quite unique settings by Cecil -Beaton, for Alicia Markova and Anton Dolin. It was a balletic attempt to -tell the familiar Dumas tale. In this case, the music, instead of being -out of Traviata by Verdi to use stud-book terminology, consisted of -Franz Schubert melodies, orchestrated by Vittorio Rieti. It was not the -success one hoped and, after seeing a later one by Tudor, to say nothing -of one by Dolin, I am more and more persuaded that _Camille_ belongs to -Dumas and Verdi, to Rachel and Sarah Bernhardt, not to ballet. There was -also an unimportant but fairly amusing little _Pas de Trois_, for -Markova, Dolin, and Eglevsky, set by Jerome Robbins to the _Minuet of -the Will o’ the Wisps_, and the _Dance of the Sylphs_, from Berlioz’ -_The Damnation of Faust_. It was a burlesque, highlighted by the use of -a bit of the _Rákoczy March_ as an overture, loud enough and big enough -to suggest that a ballet company of gargantuan proportions was to be -revealed by the rising curtain. - -The trans-continental tour compounded troubles and annoyances with heavy -financial losses. The Original Ballet Russe carried with it the heavy -liability of a legend to a vast new audience. This audience had heard of -the symphonic ballets; there were nostalgic tales told them by their -elders about the “baby ballerinas,” Toumanova, Baronova, Riabouchinska. -There were no symphonic ballets. The “baby ballerinas” had grown up and -were in other pastures. The repertoire and the interpretations revealed -the ravages of time. Perhaps the truth was that legends have an unhappy -trick of falling short of reality. - -While the long tour was in progress, the Marquis de Cuevas was making -arrangements with the Principality of Monaco for a season at Monte Carlo -with his own company. Immediately on getting wind of this, the “Colonel” -did his best to try to doublecross the Marquis. This time, the “Colonel” -did not succeed. For several seasons, the de Cuevas company, under the -title Grand Ballet de Monte Carlo, largely peopled with American -dancers, including Rosella Hightower, Marjorie Tallchief, Jocelyn -Vollmar, Ana Ricarda, and others, and under the choreographic direction -of John Taras, functioned there. When his Monte Carlo contract was at -an end, the name of the company was changed to the Grand Ballet du -Marquis de Cuevas. - -In 1951, the Marquis brought his company to New York for a season at the -Century Theatre. It was completely unsuccessful, and while the losses -were less than the initial American season, when it was called Ballet -International, since there were no production costs to be met, much less -a theatre to be bought, it was indeed an unfortunate occasion. The -debacle, I believe, was not entirely the fault of the Marquis, since the -entire season was mismanaged and mishandled from every point of view. - -The long, unhappy tour of the Original Ballet Russe dragged its weary -way to a close. Nothing I could imagine would be more welcome than that -desired event. When it was all over, I was happy to see them push off to -Europe. The losses I incurred were so considerable that it still is a -painful subject on which to ponder, even from this distance of time. -Suffice it to say they were very considerable. - -The Original Ballet Russe had been living on its capital far too long. -In London, in 1947, the “Colonel” made an attempt to reorganize his -company. Clutching at straws, the shrewd “Colonel,” I am sure, realized -that if he had any chance for survival, it would be on the basis of a -successful London season, scene of his first triumphs. For this purpose, -he formed a new company, since almost none of the original organization -survived. It was a failure. - -Nothing daunted, in 1951, he was preparing to try again. Death -intervened, and Vassily Grigorievitch Voskresensky, better known to the -world of ballet as Colonel W. de Basil, was gathered to his fathers. I -was shocked but not surprised when the news reached me. He had, I knew, -been living a devil-may-care existence. We had quarrelled, argued, -fought. We had, on the other hand, worked together for a common end and -with a common belief and purpose. - -He was truly an incredible man. - -I was enjoying a brief holiday at Evian when the news came to me, -through mutual friends, that de Basil was seriously ill. - -“I am going to Paris to see him and to do what I can,” I told them. - -The next day I was at lunch when there came a telephone call from Paris. -It was his one-time agent, Mme. Bouchenet, to tell me, to my great -regret, that de Basil had just died. - -We had had our continuing differences, but his had been a labor of -love; he had loved ballet passionately. He had been a truly magnificent -organizer. May he rest in peace. - -De Basil was, I suppose, technically an amateur in the arts; but he -managed to do a great service to ballet. By one means or another, he -formed a great ballet company. He had the vision to sponsor one of the -most revolutionary steps in ballet history since the “romantic -revolution”: Massine’s symphonic ballets. In the face of seemingly -insurmountable obstacles, he succeeded in keeping a company of warring -personalities together for years. On the financial side, still an -amateur, without the benefit of many guarantees from social celebrities -or industrial magnates, he managed to keep going. His methods were, to -say the least, unorthodox; he was amazing, fantastic, and, as I have -said, incredible. He was no Diaghileff. He was de Basil. Diaghileff was -a man of deep culture, vast erudition, an inspirer of all with whom he -came into contact. De Basil was a sharp business man, a shrewd -negotiator, an adroit manager. He was a personality. In the history of -ballet, I venture to suggest, he will be remembered as the man who was -the instrument by which and through which new life was instilled in the -art of the ballet at a time when it was in dire danger of becoming -moribund. Why and how he came to be that instrument is of little -importance. The important thing is that he _was_. - -At the time of de Basil’s death little remained save a memory. For four -seasons, at least, by reason of his instinct, his drive, his -collaborators, he presented to ballet something as close to perfection -as is possible to imagine. For that, all who genuinely love ballet -should be grateful. - - * * * * * - -Although I heaved a sigh of relief when the “Colonel” and his -ragtag-bobtail band clambered aboard the ship bound for Europe, there -were still serious problems to be considered. The uppermost questions -that troubled me were merely two parts of the same query: “Why should I -go on with this ballet business?” I asked myself. “Haven’t I done -enough?” - -Against any affirmative answer I could give myself, were arranged two -facts: one, the magnetic “pull” ballet exerted upon me; two, the -existence of a contract with the Metropolitan Opera House, which had to -be fulfilled. - -So it was that, in the autumn of 1947, that I gave a short season of -ballet there. It was not a season of great ballets, but of great -artists. The programmes centered about Alicia Markova, Anton Dolin, -André Eglevsky. - -From this emerged a dance-group company, compact, flexible, the -Markova-Dolin Company, which toured the country from coast to coast with -a considerable measure of success. This was not, of course, ballet in -the grand manner. It was chamber ballet; a dozen dancers, a small, -well-chosen group of artists, together with a small orchestra and -musical director. In addition to the two stars, the company included -Oleg Tupine, Bettina Rosay, Rozsika Sabo, Natalia Condon, Kirsten -Valbor, Wallace Siebert, Royes Fernandez, George Reich, with Robert -Zeller, young American conductor, protegé of Serge Koussevitsky and -Pierre Monteux, as Musical Director. - -The repertoire included three new works: _Fantasia_, a ballet to a -Schubert-Liszt score, with choreography by Bronislava Nijinska; _Henry -VIII_, a ballet by Rosella Hightower, to music of Rossini, arranged by -Robert Zeller, and costumes by the San Francisco designer, Russell -Hartley; _Lady of the Camellias_, another balletic version of the Dumas -tale, choreographed by Anton Dolin to portions of Verdi’s _La Traviata_, -arranged and orchestrated by Zeller; the Jerome Robbins _Pas de Trois_, -to the _Damnation of Faust_ excerpts, in costumes by the American John -Pratt; and two classical works, viz., _Famous Dances from Tchaikowsky’s -The Nutcracker_, staged jointly by Markova and Dolin, with costumes by -Alvin Colt; and _Suite de Danse_, a romantic group, including some of -_Les Sylphides_, in the Fokine choreography; a Johann Strauss _Polka_, -staged by Vincenzo Celli; _Pas Espagnole_, to music by Ravina, by Ana -Ricarda; _Vestris Solo_, to music by Rossini, choreographed by Celli; -and Dolin’s delicious _Pas de Quatre_. - -_Henry VIII_, Rosella Hightower’s first full work as a choreographer, -was no balletic masterpiece, but it provided Dolin with a part wherein, -as the portly, bearded, greatly married monarch of Britain, he was able -to dance and act in the great tradition of Red Coat, Devil of the -Ukraine, Bluebeard, Gil Blas, Tyl Eulenspiegel, Sganarelle, -Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford, and all the other picaresque heroes of -ballet, theatre, and literature. While Dolin, of course, confined -himself to the choreographer’s patterning, I should not have been -surprised if he had resorted to falling over sofas, squirting -Elizabethan soda water syphons in the face of Katherine Parr, or being -carried off to the royal bedchamber in a complete state of -intoxication. - -While such an organization is far from ideal for the presentation of -spectacular ballet, which must have a large company, eye-filling stage -settings, and all the appurtenances of the modern theatre, since ballet -is essentially a theatre art, it nevertheless permitted us to take a -form of ballet to cities and towns where, because of physical -conditions, the full panoply of ballet at its most glamorous cannot be -given. - -The highlight of this tour occurred at the War Memorial Opera House, in -San Francisco, where, because of an unusual combination of -circumstances, an extremely interesting collaboration was made possible. -The San Francisco Civic Ballet, an organization that promised much in -the way of a civic supported ballet company of national proportions, had -just been formed, and with the cooperation of the San Francisco Art -Commission, and with the full San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, was -undertaking its first season. At its invitation, it was possible for us -to combine its first productions with those of the Markova-Dolin -company, and, in addition to the San Francisco Civic Ballet creations, a -splendid production of _Giselle_ was made, staged by Dolin, with -Markova, according to all reports, including that of the informed -critic, Alfred Frankenstein, giving one of the most remarkable -interpretations of her long career in the title role. This tribute is -the more remarkable, since _Giselle_ is one of Frankenstein’s “blind -spots” in ballet. No critic is entirely free from bias or prejudice, and -since even I admit that--countless examples to the contrary -notwithstanding--the critic is also a human being, why should he be -utterly free from those very human qualities or defects, as the case may -be? - -The artists of the Markova-Dolin company supplemented the San Francisco -company, with the local company supplying the production, the two groups -merging for substantial joint rehearsal. I have said the San Francisco -Civic Ballet promised much. It is to be regretted that means could not -be forthcoming to insure its permanence. Its closing was the result of -the lack of that most vital element, proper subsidy. These things shock -me. - -The Markova-Dolin company was no more the ultimate answer to my balletic -problem than was the Original Ballet Russe. It was, however, something -more than a satisfactory stop-gap; it was also a very pleasant -association. - -Markova and Dolin are a quite remarkable pair. For years their stars -were congruent. Until recently there were indications that they had -become one, a fixed constellation, supreme, serene, sparkling. Those -gods in whose hands lie the celestial disposition have seen fit to shift -their orbits so that now each goes his or her separate course. I, for -one, cannot other than express my personal regret that this is so. One -complemented the other. I would go so far as to say that one benefited -the other. Both as individual artists and in partnership, the -distinguished pair of Britons are an ornament to their art and to their -native land. - - -_ALICIA MARKOVA_ - -Alicia Markova, _née_ Lilian Alicia Marks, was born in London, 1st -December, 1910. Her life has been celebrated in perhaps as many volumes -and articles as any other _ballerina_, if for no other reason than that -the English seem to burst into print about ballet and to encase their -words between solid covers more extensively than any other people I -know, not excluding the French. It is almost a case of scratch an -Englishman and you will find a ballet author. Because of this extensive -bibliography, the details of Markova’s career need not concern me here, -save to establish the highlights in a public life that has been -extraordinarily successful. - -When Markova arrived in this country to join the Massine Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, she already had behind her a high position in British -ballet; yet she was, in a sense, shy and naive. Her father had died when -Alicia was thirteen. There were three other sisters, and an Irish -mother, who had adopted orthodox Judaism on her marriage to Alicia’s -father, all in need of support. Alicia became the head of and -bread-winner for the family. The mother worked hard at the business of -being a mother, but kept away from the theatre’s back-stage. The story -of the family life of the mother and the four daughters sounds like a -Louisa M. Alcott novel, with theatre innovations and variations. - -Before she became a pupil at the Chelsea studio of Seraphina Astafieva, -late of the Imperial and Diaghileff Ballets, little Alicia had been a -principal in a London Christmas pantomime and had already been labeled -“the miniature Pavlova.” It was in this studio that her path crossed -that of one Sydney Francis Patrick Chippendall Healey-Kay, soon to have -his name truncated and changed to Anton Dolin by Serge Diaghileff. It -was Dolin who brought Alicia Marks to Diaghileff’s attention, not, -however, without some difficulty. Dolin’s conversations with Diaghileff -about “the miniature Pavlova” brought only disgust from the great -founder of modern ballet. The pretentiousness and presumptuousness of -such a title roused only repugnance in the great man. - -Eventually, Dolin succeeded in bringing Diaghileff to a party at the -King’s Road studio of Astafieva, where little Miss Marks, at fourteen, -danced. As a result, Diaghileff changed Marks to Markova, dropped the -Lilian, and took her, with governess, into his company, detailing one of -his current soloists, Ninette de Valois by name, to keep a weather-eye -out for the child. Markova was on her way rapidly up the ladder, with -two Balanchine creations under her _pointes_, _The Song of the -Nightingale_ and _La Chatte_, when Diaghileff died. - -This meant a complete change of focus for Markova, in 1929. She earned a -living for herself and her family for a time dancing in the English -music halls, dancing for Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club and the Camargo -Society for buttons. After two years at Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club, -where Frederick Ashton took her in hand, as coach and teacher, adviser, -and mentor extraordinary, she became the leading _ballerina_ of the -Vic-Wells Ballet, the predecessor of Sadler’s Wells, where, under the -overall guidance of Ashton and de Valois, she danced the first English -_Giselle_, the full-length _Swan Lake_, and _The Nutcracker_. Dolin was -a guest star of the Vic-Wells in those days; their stellar paths again -intertwined as they had at Astafieva’s studio, and in the Diaghileff -Ballet. - -In the fall of 1935, Dolin and Markova formed the Markova-Dolin Ballet, -with a full repertoire of classical works, playing London and touring -throughout Great Britain. - -Markova, if she is honest, and I have no reason to believe she is not, -should be the first to admit her profound debt to three persons in -ballet: Anton Dolin, who has projected her, protected her, and -occasionally pestered her; Frederick Ashton and Marie Rambert who, -jointly and severally, encouraged, advised, and guided her. - -In 1938, I was instrumental in having Markova join the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, where she competed with Danilova, Toumanova, and Slavenska. -Her London triumph in our season at Drury Lane was not entirely -unexpected. After all, she was dancing on her home stage. Her -performance in _Giselle_, on 12th October, 1938, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, made history. - -There was an element in the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo direction, of -which Leonide Massine was not one, that was not at all pleased with the -idea of having Markova with the company. Despite her great London -success, Alicia decided she would be wise not to come to America. - -Alicia and her mother, I remember, came to the Savoy to see me about -this. Mrs. Hurok and I urged her to reconsider her decision. She was -determined to resign from the company. She did not feel “at home” in the -organization. Although “Freddy” Franklin, who had been a member of the -Markova-Dolin Company, had joined the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, -Alicia felt alone, and she would be without Anton Dolin, and would miss -her family. - -Mrs. Hurok and I finally succeeded in dissuading her from her avowed -intention, and in convincing her that a great future for her lay in the -United States. - -From the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo she came to Ballet Theatre, where, -under my management, she co-starred with Dolin. Her roles with that -company as guest star which I arranged and paid for, together with -almost one-half of her salary at other times, for Lucia Chase did not -take kindly to Alicia Markova as a member of Ballet Theatre, and the -American tour of the Markova-Dolin company, all of these I have dealt -with at length. - -During one of the seasons of the London Festival Ballet, which was -organized by Dolin for the two of them, the team came to a parting of -the ways. Like so many associations of this kind, the break could have -been the result of any one or more of a combination of causes. One who -is sincerely interested in both of them, expresses the hope that it may -be only a passing difference. Yet, pursuing a course I follow in the -domestic lives of my personal friends, I apply it to the artistic lives -of these two, and leave it to them to work out their joint and several -destinies. There are limits beyond which even a loyal and fond manager -may not go with impunity. - -One of the greatest _ballerinas_ of our own or any other time, I cannot -say that Markova’s triumphs have not altered her. To be sure, although -she still has a manner that is sometimes reserved, outwardly timid, I -nevertheless happen to know that behind it all lurks a determined, -stubborn, and sometimes downright blind willfulness, coupled with a good -deal of unreasonability. It was not for nothing that she earned from -Leonide Massine the sobriquet of “Chinese Torture”--as Massine used to -put it, “like small drops of water constantly falling on the head.” - -As a dancer, Markova is in the straight and direct classical line, as -Michel Fokine once observed to me, while watching her Giselle. - -Bearing these things in mind, including the fact that the gods have been -less than generous to her in matters of face and figure, I am deeply -moved by her expertness, her ethereality, her precision, her simplicity. -Yet, on the other hand, I can only deplore the stylization and mannered -quality she brings to her latter-day performances. When she is at her -best, Markova has something above and beyond technique: a certain -evanescent, purely luminous detachment. All these things reinforce my -conviction that Markova should confine herself to the great classical -interpretations, and recognize her own physical limitations, even within -this field. Her Giselle is in a class by itself. She has made the role -her own. Personally, however, I do not find she gives me the same -satisfaction as the Swan Queen, nor in Fokine’s _Les Sylphides_. To my -way of thinking, her Swan Queen, while technically precise, lacks both -that deep plumbing of the emotions and the grand, regal manner that the -role requires. Her Prelude in _Sylphides_ is spoiled, in my opinion, by -excessive mannerisms. - -It is in _Giselle_ and _The Nutcracker_ that Markova can bring joy and -pleasure to an immense public, that joy the public always receives, -whether they know the intricate details of ballet or not, by seeing a -great classical _ballerina_ at her best. One of Markova’s best -characterizations was that of Taglioni in Dolin’s _Pas de Quatre_, a -delightful cameo, yet today, or, at least, the last time I saw it, it, -like her Prelude in _Sylphides_, suffered from an accretion of manner, -until it bordered on the grotesque. - -One of the qualities Markova has in common with Pavlova, some of whose -qualities she has, is her agelessness. As I said of Pavlova, “genius -knows no age,” so might it be said of Diaghileff’s “little English girl” -now grown up. The great Russian painter and co-founder of the Diaghileff -Ballet, Alexandre Benois, the most noted designer of _Giselle_, once -asserted that Pavlova’s ability to transmute rather ordinary and -sometimes banal material into unalloyed gold was a theatrical miracle. -It is in roles for which she is peculiarly and individually almost -uniquely fitted that Markova, too, is able to work a theatrical miracle. - -Under the proper direction, under which she will not be left to her own -devices, and will not be required to make her own decisions, but will -have them made for her by a wise and intelligent director conscious of -her limitations, Markova will be able the better to fulfil her destiny. -It is to that desired end that I have been deeply interested in the fact -that she had secured an invitation from the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, at -the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, for her to become, once again, a -member of the company, with certain freedoms of action outside the -company when her services are not required. The initial step has been -taken. It is in such a setting that she belongs. - -I hope she will continue in this setting. - -Always I have been her devoted friend from the beginning of her American -successes, and shall continue to be. - -It is _ballerinas_ of the type of Alicia Markova who help make ballet -the great art it is. There are all too few of them. - -Often I have told Anton Dolin that the two of them, Markova and Dolin, -individually and collectively, have been of immeasurable service and -have done great honor to ballet both in England and throughout the -world. - - -_ANTON DOLIN_ - -The erstwhile Sydney Patrick Chippendall Healey-Kay, metamorphosed into -Anton Dolin whose star has so often paralleled and traversed that of -Markova, was born at Slinfold, Sussex, 20th July, 1904. A principal -dancer of the Diaghileff Ballet at an early age, he was unique as the -only non-Russian _premier danseur_ ever to achieve that position. - -Leaving Diaghileff in 1926, he organized the Nemtchinova-Dolin Ballet, -with which they toured England and Europe. Alternating ballet with the -dramatic and musical theatre, he turned up in New York in Lew Leslie’s -unhappy _International Revue_, along with Gertrude Lawrence, Harry -Richman, and the unforgettable Argentinita. On his return to London, -Dolin became the first guest-star of the Vic-Wells Ballet before it -exchanged the Vic for Sadler’s. - -In 1935, with the valued help of the late Mrs. Laura Henderson, he was -indefatigable in the formation of the Markova-Dolin Ballet, one of the -results of which was the laying of the foundation stones of ballet’s -popularity in Great Britain. A period with the de Basil company in -Australia was followed by his extended American sojourn, with Ballet -Theatre, the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, as guest artist, _The Seven -Lively Arts_, the Original Ballet Russe, and again under my management -with the Markova-Dolin company. - -Without making too detailed a research, I should say that the Dolin -literature is nearly as extensive as that about Markova, making due -allowance for the fact that the glamorous _ballerina_ always lends -herself to the printed page more attractively than her male _vis-a-vis_. -However, Dolin, often as busy with his pen as with his feet, has added -four volumes of his own authorship to the list. _Divertissement_, -published in 1931, and _Ballet-Go-Round_, published in 1938, were -sprightly volumes of autobiographical reminiscence and highly personal -commentary and observation. There has also been a slender volume on the -art of partnering and, more recently, a biographical study of Markova -entitled _Alicia Markova: Her Life and Art_. - -My acquaintance and friendship with Dolin dates back to the Diaghileff -season of 1925. It is an acquaintance and friendship I value. There is -an old bromide to the effect that dancers’ brains are in their legs. As -in all generalizations of this sort, it contains something more than a -grain of truth. Dolin is one of the shining exceptions to this role. -Shrewd, cultured, with a fine background, he is the possessor of a -poised manner, and something else, which is, I regret to say, rare in -the dancer: a concern for ethics. - -There is a weird opinion held in many parts of this country and on the -continent of Europe, to the effect that the Englishman is a dull and -humorless sort of fellow. This stupid charge is quite beyond the -understanding of any one who has thought twice about the matter. I have -had the pleasure and privilege of knowing England and the English for a -great many years and, as a consequence, I venture to assume the pleasing -privilege of informing a deluded world that, whatever else there may or -may not be in England, there is more fun and laughter to the square acre -than there is to the square mile of any other known quarter. My -observation has been that even if an Englishman does achieve a gravity -alien to the common spirit about him, he is not able to keep it up for -long. Dolin is the possessor of a brilliant sense of humour and much -wit, both often biting; but he has a quality which invites visitations -of the twin spirits of high and low comedy. - -A firm believer in the classical ballet, in Russian ballet, if you will, -Dolin, like his kinsmen in British ballet, gets about his business with, -on the whole, a minimum of fuss. Socially, and I speak from a profound -experience and a personal knowledge drawn from my own Russian roots, the -Russians are unlike any other European people, having a large measure of -the Asiatic disregard for the meaning and use of the clock, the watch, -the sun-dial, or even the primitive hourglass. Slow movement and time -without limit for reflection and conversation are vital to them, and -unless they can pass a substantial portion of the day in discussions, -they become ill at ease and unhappy. But, although deliberate enough in -most things, they have a way of blazing out almost volcanically if -annoyed or affronted or thwarted. In this latter respect only, the -English-Irish Anton Dolin may be said to be Russian. - -When Dolin’s dancing days are finished, there will always be a job for -“Pat” as an actor--at times, to be sure, with a touch of ham, but always -theatrically effective. He is one of the few dancers who could ever be -at home on the speaking stage. - -In the early founding days of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, I was -very anxious that he join Massine as one of the leading figures of the -company. Dolin shared my desire, and was eager to become a member, but -there did not appear to be any room for him; and, moreover, with Lifar -and Massine in the company, matters were difficult in the extreme, and -plagued by the winds of complexity. - -Dolin’s lovely mother, to whom he is devoted, lived with him in New York -during the period of his residence here. Now that he is back in England, -at the head of his own company, the London Festival Ballet, she is with -him there. It was she, a shrewd pilot of his career, who begged me to -take “Pat” under my wing. A gracious, generous lady, I am as fond of her -as I am of “Pat.” When he was offered a leading dancing and -choreographic post at the inception of Ballet Theatre, he sought my -advice. I was instrumental in his joining the company; he helped me to -take over the management of the company later on. - -His “Russianness” that I have mentioned, releases itself in devastating -flares and flashes of “temperament.” These outbursts express themselves -very often in rapid-fire iteration of a single phrase: “I shan’t dance! -I shan’t dance! I shan’t dance!” Yet I always know that, when the time -comes for his appearance, “Pat” will be on hand. Neither illness nor -accident prevents him from doing his job. There was an occasion on tour, -in the far north and in the midst of an icy blizzard, when he insisted -on dancing with a fever of one hundred three degrees. He may not have -danced with perfection, but he danced. - -Today, and in the past as well, there are and have been some who have -not cared for his dancing. Certain sections of the press have the habit -of developing a pronouncedly captious tone in dealing with Dolin the -dancer. I would remind those persons of the perfectly amazing theatrical -sense Dolin always exhibits. I would remind them that, in my opinion -and in the opinion of others more finely attuned to the niceties of the -classical dance, Dolin is one of the finest supporting partners it is -possible for a _ballerina_ to have. Markova is never shown to her best -advantage with any other male dancer than Anton Dolin. My opinion, on -which I make no concessions to any one, is that Dolin is one of the -finest Albrechts in the world today. Without Dolin, _Giselle_ remains -but half a ballet. - -As a _re_-creator, he has few peers and no superiors. I can think of no -one better qualified to recreate a masterpiece of another era, with -regard to the creator’s true intent and meaning, nor do I know of any -choreographer who has a greater feeling, a finer sense, or a more humble -respect for “period and tradition.” - -As a dancer, there are still roles which require a minimum of dancing -and a maximum of acting. These roles are preeminently Dolin’s, and in -these he cannot be equaled. - -As for Anton Dolin, the person, as opposed to Anton Dolin, the artist, -he is that rare bird in ballet: a loyal friend, blessedly free from that -besetting balletic sin--envy; generous, kindly, human, always helpful, -ever the good comrade. Would that dance had more men of his character, -his liberality, his broadmindedness, his ever-present readiness to be of -service to his colleagues. - -Although “Pat” is not above certain meannesses, certain capriciousness, -he has an uncanny gift of penetrating to the heart of a matter, and his -ability to hit the nail on the very centre of the head often gains for -him the advantage over people who have the reputation of being experts -in their particular callings. - -On the very top of all is his ability to open the charm tap at will. On -occasion, I have been of a mind to choke him, so annoyed have I been at -him. We have parted in a cloud of aggravation and exacerbation. Yet, on -meeting him an hour later, there was only an Irish smile with twinkling -eyes, all radiating good will and genuine affection. - -This is the Anton Dolin I know, the Dolin I like best. - -As these lines are written, all concerned are working on a budget to -determine if it is not possible to bring Dolin and his company to -America for a visit. It is my hope that satisfactory arrangements can be -made, for it would give me great pleasure to present “Pat” at the head -of his fine organization. I can only say to Dolin that if we succeed in -completing mutually agreeable conditions: “What a job we will do for -you!” - - - - -12. Ballet Climax-- -Sadler’s Wells And After.... - - -Sadler’s Wells--a name with which to conjure--had been a part of my -balletic consciousness for a long time. I had observed its early -beginnings, its growth from the Old Vic to Sadler’s Wells to the Royal -Opera House, Covent Garden, with the detached interest of a ballet lover -from another land. I had read about it, heard about it from many people, -but I had not had any first hand experience of it since the Covent -Garden Opera Trust had invited the Sadler’s Wells Ballet to move to -Covent Garden from their famous ballet center, Sadler’s Wells. This they -did, early in 1946, leaving behind yet another company called the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. - -I arrived in London in April, 1946, at a time when I was very definitely -under the impression that I would give up any active participation in -ballet in any other form than as an interested member of the audience. - -The London to which I returned was, in a sense, a strange London--a -London just after the war, a city devastated by bombs, a city that had -suffered grave wounds both physical and spiritual, a city of austerity. - -It was also a London wherein I found, wherever I went, a people whose -spirits were, nevertheless, high; human beings whose chins were up. The -typical Cockney taxi-driver who brought me from Waterloo to my long-time -headquarters, the Savoy, summed it all up on my arrival, when he said: -“We’ll come out of this orlrite. We weren’t born in the good old English -climate for nothin’. It’s all a bit of a disappointment; but we’re used -to disappointments, we are. Why when ah was a kid as we ’ad a nice -little picnic all arranged for Saturday afternoon, as sure as fate it -rained and the bleedin’ picnic was put orf again.... We’re goin’ to ’ave -our picnic one day; this ’ere picnic’s just been put orf, that’s -all....” - -As the porters were disposing of my luggage, the genial commissionaire -at the Savoy, Joe Hanson, added his bit to the general optimism. After -greeting me, he asked me if I had heard about the shipwreck in the -Thames, opposite the Savoy. I had not, and wondered how I had missed the -news of such a catastrophe. - -“Well, it was like this, guv’nor,” he said. “Churchill, Eden, Atlee and -Ernie Bevin went out on the river in a small boat to look the place -over. Just as they were a-passin’ the ’otel ’ere, a sudden squall blew -up and the boat was capsized.” - -He paused and blew his nose vociferously into a capacious kerchief. “Who -do you think was saved?” - -“Churchill?” I enquired. - -He shook his head in the negative. - -“Eden?” - -He shook his head. - -“Atlee?” - -Again he shook his head. - -“Bevin?” - -Once more the negative. - -“No one saved?” I could hardly believe my ears. - -“Ah, there’s where you’re wrong, sir.... _England_ was saved!” - -The commissionaire’s big frame shook with prideful laughter. - -I freshened myself in my room and went down to my favorite haunt, my -London H. Q., as I like to call it, the Savoy Grill, that gathering -place of the theatrical, musical, literary, and balletic worlds of -London. One of the Savoy Grill’s chief fixtures, and for me one of its -most potent attractions, was the always intriguing buffet, with my -favorite Scottish salmon. This time the buffet, while putting up a brave -decorative front, was a little disappointing and, to tell the truth, a -shade depressing. - -But a glance at the entertainment advertisements in _The Times_ (the -“Thunderer,” I noted, was now a four-page sheet) showed me that the -entertainment world was in full swing, and there was excitement in the -air. - -I dined alone in the Grill, then returned to my room and changed to -black tie and all, for it was to be a festive evening, and walked the -short distance between the Savoy Hotel and the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden. I was going to the ballet in a completely non-professional -capacity, as a member of the audience, going for the sheer fun of going, -with nary a balletic problem on my mind. - -I was to be the guest of David Webster, the Administrator of Covent -Garden, who met me at the door and, after a brief chat, escorted me to -my seat. My eyes traveled around the famous and historic Opera House, -only recently saved from the ignominy of becoming a public dance hall. -Here it was, shining and dignified in fresh paint, in damask, and in the -new warm red plush _fauteuils_; poor though Britain was, the house had -just been remodelled, redecorated, reseated, with a new and most -attractive “crush bar” installed. - -The depression I had felt earlier in the day vanished completely. Now -that evening had come, there was a different aspect, a changed -atmosphere. I looked at the audience that made up the sold-out house. -From the top to the bottom of the great old Opera House they were a -happy, relaxed, anticipatory people, ready to be entertained and -stimulated. In the stalls, the audience was well-dressed and some of the -evening frocks were, I felt, of marked splendor. But the less expensive -portions of the house were filled, too, and I remembered something that -great director, Ninette de Valois, who had made all this possible, had -said way back in 1937: “The gallery, the pit [American readers should -understand that the “pit” in the British theatre is usually that part of -the house behind the “stalls” or orchestra seats, and is not, as in the -States, the orchestra pit where the musicians are placed] and the -amphitheatre are the basis and backbone of the people s theatre.... That -they are the most loyal supporters will be maintained with deep -appreciation by those who control the future of the ballet.” - -There was, as I have said, an anticipatory atmosphere on the part of the -audience, as if the temper of the people had become graver, simpler, and -more concentrated; as if, during the war, when the opportunities for -recreation and amusement were more restricted, transport more limited, -the intelligence craved and sought those antidotes to a troubled -consciousness of which ballet and its allied arts are the most potent. - -While I relaxed and waited for the rising curtain with that same -anticipatory glow that I always feel, yet, somehow, intensified tonight, -I reflected, too, on the miracle that had been wrought. I remembered -David Webster had told me how, only the year before, the company was -preparing for a good-will tour to South America, and how the sudden end -of the war had made that trip impracticable and unnecessary. It had -become more urgent to have the company at home. Negotiations had been -initiated between the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, the British Arts Council, -and Boosey and Hawkes, who had taken over the Covent Garden lease, for -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet to make its headquarters at Covent Garden, -where it would be presented by the Covent Carden Opera Trust. Having -been turned into a cheap dance hall before the war, Covent Garden’s -restoration as a theatre devoted to the finest in opera and ballet -required very careful planning. - -All of this whetted my appetite. My eyes traveled to the Royal Box, to -the Royal Crest on the great curtains, to the be-wigged footmen.... -Slowly the lights came down to a dull glow, went out. A sound of -applause greeted the entry into the orchestra pit of the conductor, the -greatly talented musical director of the Sadler’s Wells organization, -Constant Lambert. In a moment, the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, was -filled with the magnificent sound of the overture to Tchaikowsky’s _The -Sleeping Beauty_, played as only Lambert could play it. - -Then the curtain rose, revealing Oliver Messel’s perfectly wonderful -setting for the first act of this magnificent full-length ballet. Over -all, about all, was the great music of Tchaikowsky. My eyes, my ears, my -heart were being filled to overflowing. - -The biggest moment of all came with the entrance of Margot Fonteyn as -the Princess. I was overwhelmed by her entire performance; but I think -it was her first entrance that made the greatest impact on me, with the -fresh youthfulness of the young Princess, the radiant gaiety of all the -fairy tale heroines of the world’s literature compressed into one. - -I was so enchanted as I followed the stage and the music that I forgot -all else but the miraculous unfolding of this Perrault-Tchaikowsky fairy -story. - -Here, at last, was great ballet. The art of pantomime, so long dormant -in ballet in America, had been restored in all its clarity and -simplicity of meaning. The high quality of the dancing by the -principals, soloists, and _corps de ballet_, the settings, the costumes, -the lighting, all literally transported me to another world. I knew -then, in a great revelation, that great ballet was here to stay. - -“This is Ballet!” I said, almost half aloud. - -After the performance, back at the Savoy Grill once more, at supper I -met, once again, Ninette de Valois, whose taste and drive and -determination and abilities have made Sadler’s Wells the magnificent -institution it is. - -“Madame,” I said to her, “I think you’re ready to go to the States.” - -“Are we?” - -“Yes,” I replied, “you are ready.” - -The supper was gay and charming and animated. I was filled with -enthusiasm and was a long time falling asleep that night. - -After that evening, there was no longer any attitude of “to hell with -ballet” on my part. Ballet, I realized, with a fresh conviction -solidifying the revelation I had had the night before, was here to stay. -“To hell with ballet” had given way to “three cheers for ballet!” - -After breakfast, the next morning, I telephoned David Webster to invite -him to luncheon so that I might discuss details of the proposed American -venture with him. During the course of the luncheon we went into all the -major points and problems. Webster, I found, shared my enthusiasm for -the idea and agreed in principle. - -But, in accordance with the traditionally British manner, the thought -and care and consideration that is given to every phase and every -department, every suggestion, every idea, such matters do not move as -swiftly as they do in the States. Before I started out for my usual -London “constitutional” backwards and forwards across Waterloo Bridge, -from where one looks up the Thames towards the Houses of Parliament and -Big Ben, mother of all our freedoms, I sent flowers to Margot Fonteyn -with a note of appreciation for her magnificent performance of the night -before and for the great pleasure she had given me. - -There followed extended discussions with Ninette de Valois, the Director -of whom, perhaps, the outstanding characteristic is that her outlook is -such that her greatest ambition is to see the Sadler’s Wells Ballet -become such an institution in its own right that, as she puts it, “no -one will know the name of the director.” However, before any decisions -could be reached, it became necessary for me to get home. So, with the -whole business still very much up in the air, I returned to New York. - -No sooner was I back in my office than there came an invitation from -Mayor William O’Dwyer and Grover Whalen for me to take over the -direction of the dance activities for the Festival for the One Hundred -Fiftieth Anniversary Celebration of the City of New York. I accepted the -honor in the hope that I might be able to organize a completely -international and representative Dance Festival, wherein the leading -exponents of ballet and other forms of dance would have an opportunity -to demonstrate their varied repertoires and techniques. To that end, I -sent invitations in the name of the City of New York to all the leading -dance organizations in the world, seeking their participation in the -Festival. The response was unanimously immediate and enthusiastic; but, -unfortunately, many of the organizations, possessing interesting -repertoires and styles, were not in a position to undertake the costs of -travel from far distant points, together with the heavy expenses for the -transportation of scenery, equipment, and costumes. Among these was the -newly-organized San Francisco Civic Ballet. - -The Sadler’s Wells organization accepted the invitation in principle, as -did the Paris Opera Ballet, through its director, Monsieur Georges -Hirsch. Ram Gopal, brilliant exponent of the dance of India, accepted -through his manager Julian Braunsweg; and, in this case, I was able to -assist him in his financial problems, by bringing him at my own expense. -Representing our native American dance were Doris Humphrey and Charles -Weidman, together with their company. I happen to feel this group is one -of the most representative of all our native practitioners of the “free” -dance, in works that often come to grips with the problems and conflicts -of life, and which eschew, at least for the time, pure abstraction. Most -notable of these works, works in this form, is their trilogy: _New -Dance_--_Theatre Piece_--_With My Red Fires_ American dance groups were -invited but for one reason or another were not able to accept. - -As preparations for the Festival moved ahead, David Webster arrived from -London to investigate the physical possibilities for the participation -of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet as the national ballet of Great Britain. - -The logical place for a Dance Festival of such proportions and such -significance, and one of such avowedly international and civic nature, -would have been the Metropolitan Opera House. Unfortunately, the -Metropolitan had commitments with another ballet company. My friend and -colleague, Edward Johnson, the then General Manager of the Metropolitan -Opera Company, regretted the situation and did everything in his power -to remedy the position and free our first lyric theatre for such an -important civic event. However, the other dance organization insisted on -its contractual rights and refused to give way, or to divide the time in -any way. - -The only other place left, therefore, was the New York City Center, in -West Fifty-fifth Street. Webster made a thorough inspection of this -former Masonic Temple from front to back, but found the place entirely -inadequate, with a stage and an orchestra pit infinitely too small, and -the theatre itself quite unsatisfactory for a company the size of the -Covent Garden organization and productions. As a matter of fact, it -would be hard to find a less satisfactory theatre for ballet production. - -As Webster and I went over the premises together, I sensed his feeling -about the building, which I shared. Nevertheless, I tried to hide my -disappointment when, at last, he turned to me and said: “It’s no go. We -can’t play here. Let us postpone the visit till we can come to be seen -on your only appropriate stage, the Metropolitan.” - -We had had preliminary meetings with the British Consul General and his -staff; plans and promotion were rapidly crystallizing, and my -disappointment was none the less keen simply because I knew the reasons -for the postponement were sound, and that it could not be otherwise. - -The Dance Festival itself, without Sadler’s Wells, had its successes and -left a mark on the local dance scene. The City Center was no more -satisfactory, I am afraid, for the Ballet of the Opera of Paris, -presented by the French National Lyric Theatre, under the auspices of -the Cultural Relations Department of the French Foreign Ministry, than -it would have been for the Covent Garden company. It was necessary to -trim the scenery, omit much of it, and use only part of the personnel of -the company at a time. But, on the other hand, it was a genuine pleasure -to welcome them on their first visit to the United States and Canada. In -addition to the Dance Festival Season in New York, we played highly -successful engagements in Montreal, Toronto, and Chicago. - -The company was headed by a distinguished French _ballerina_ in the true -French style, Yvette Chauviré. Other principal members of the company, -all from the higher echelons of the Paris Opera, included Roger Ritz, -Christiane Vaussard, Michel Renault, Alexandre Kalioujny, Micheline -Bardin, and Max Bozzini, with Robert Blot and Richard Blareau as -conductors. The repertoire included _Ports of Call_, Serge Lifar’s -ballet to Jacques Ibert’s _Escales_; _Salad_, a Lifar work to a Darius -Milhaud creation; Lifar’s setting of Ravel’s _Pavane_; _The Wise -Animals_, based on the Jean de la Fontaine fables, by Lifar, to music by -Francis Poulenc; _Suite in White_, from Eduardo Lalo’s _Naouma_; _Punch -and the Policeman_, staged by Lifar to a score by Jolivet; -_Divertissement_, cuttings from Tchaikowsky’s _The Sleeping Beauty_; -_The Peri_, Lifar’s staging of the well-known ballet score by Paul -Dukas; _The Crystal Palace_, Balanchine’s ballet to Bizet’s symphony, -known here as _Symphony in C_; Vincent d’Indy’s _Istar_, in the Lifar -choreography; _Gala Evening_, taken from Delibes’ _La Source_, by Leo -Staats; Albert Aveline’s _Elvira_, to Scarlatti melodies orchestrated by -Roland Manuel; André Messager’s _The Two Pigeons_, choreographed by -Albert Aveline; the Rameau _Castor and Pollux_, staged by Nicola Guerra; -_The Knight and the Maiden_, a two-act romantic ballet, staged by Lifar -to a score by Philippe Gaubert; and _Les Mirages_, a classical work by -Lifar, to music by Henri Sauguet. - -Serge Lifar returned to America, not to dance, but as the choreographer -of the company of which he is the head. - -I happen to know certain facts about Lifar’s behavior during the -Occupation of France, facts I did not know at the time of the -publication of my earlier book, _Impresario_. Certain statements I made -in that book concerning Serge Lifar were made on the basis of such -information as I had at the time, which I believed was reliable. I have -subsequently learned that it was not correct, and I have also -subsequently had additional, quite different, and reliably documented -information which makes me wish to acknowledge that an error of judgment -was expressed on the basis of inconclusive evidence. Lifar may not have -been a hero; very possibly, and quite probably, he may have been -indiscreet; but it is now obvious to any fair-minded person that there -has been a good deal of malicious gossip spread about him. - -Lifar was restored to his post at the head of the Paris Opera Ballet by -M. Georges Hirsch, Administrator, Director of the French National Lyric -Theatres, himself a war-hero with a distinguished record. The dancers -of the Paris Opera Ballet threatened to strike unless Lifar was so -restored; the stage-hands, with definite indications of Communist -inspiration, to strike if he was. Hirsch had the courage of his -convictions. I have found that Lifar did not take the Paris Opera Ballet -to Berlin during the Occupation, as has been alleged in this country, -although the Germans wanted it badly; and I happen to know numerous -other French companies did go. I also have learned that it was Serge -Lifar who prevented the Paris Opera Ballet from going. I happen to know -that Lifar did fly in a German plane to Kieff, his birthplace; as I -happen to know that he did not show Hitler through the Paris Opera -itself, as one widely-spread rumor has had it. As a matter of fact, -stories to the effect that he did both these things have been widely -circulated. I happen to have learned that Lifar made a tremendous effort -to save that splendid gentleman, René Blum, but was unable to prevail -against Blum’s patriotic but unfortunately stupid determination to -remain in Paris. I also happen to know that Lifar was personally active -in saving many Jews and also other liberals from deportation. Moreover, -I know that, as has always been characteristic of Lifar, because he was -one who had, he helped from his own pocket those who had not. - -The performances of the Ballet of the Paris Opera at the City Center -were not the slightest proof of the quality of its productions or its -performance. The shocking limitations of the playhouse made necessary a -vast reduction of its personnel, its scenery, its essential quality. The -Paris Opera Ballet is, of course, a State Ballet in the fullest sense of -the term. It is an aristocratic organization, conscious of the great -tradition that hangs over it. The air is thick with it. Its dancers are -civil servants of the Republic of France and their promotion in rank -follows upon a strict examination pattern. It would be interesting one -day to see the company at the Metropolitan Opera House, where its -original setting could be approximated, although I fear the Metropolitan -has nothing comparable with the _foyer de la dance_ of the Paris Opera. - -Here is ballet on a big scale and in the grand manner, with all the -scenic and costume panoply of the art at its most grandiose. It is the -sort of fine ballet that succeeds in giving the art an immense -popularity with the masses. - -As a matter of fact, I am negotiating with the very able Maurice -Lehmann, the successor to Georges Hirsch as Director-General of the -Opera, and I can think of no happier result than to be able to bring -this rich example of the balletic art of France to America under the -proper circumstances and conditions, if for no other reason than to -compensate the organization for their previous visit. - - * * * * * - -The International Dance Festival over, my chief desire was to bring -Sadler’s Wells to this continent. - -Perhaps it would be as well, for the sake of the reader who may be -unfamiliar with its background and thus disposed to regard this as -merely another ballet company, to shed a bit of light on the Sadler’s -Wells organization. - -Following the death of Diaghileff, in 1929, we knew that ballet in -Britain was in a sad state of decline, from which it might well never -have emerged had it not been for two groups, the Ballet Club of Marie -Rambert and the Camargo Society. Each was to be of vital importance to -the ballet picture in Britain and, indirectly, in the world. The -offspring of the Ballet Club was the Rambert Ballet; that of the Camargo -Society, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet. As a matter of fact, the Camargo -Society, a Sunday night producing club, utilized the Ballet Club dancers -and another studio group headed by the lady now known as Dame Ninette de -Valois, D.B.E., D. Litt. - -Back in 1931, at the time of the formation of the Camargo Society, the -little acorn from which grew a mighty British oak, Dame Ninette, -“Madame” as she is known to all who know her, was plain Ninette de -Valois, who was born Edris Stannus, in Ireland, in 1898. She had joined -the Diaghileff Ballet as a dancer in 1923, had risen to the rank of -soloist (a rare accomplishment for a non-Russian), and left the great -man, daring to differ with him on the direction he was taking, something -amounting to _lese majesté_. She had produced plays, in the meantime, at -Dublin’s famous Abbey Theatre and at Cambridge University’s Festival -Theatre; and had also formed a choreographic group of her own which she -brought along to the Camargo Society to cooperate. When she did so, she -was far from famous. As a matter of fact, she was, to all intents and -purposes, unknown. - -One Sunday night in 1931, two things happened to Ninette de Valois: she -became famous overnight, which, knowing her as I do, was of much less -importance to her than the fact that, quite unwittingly, she laid the -foundation for a British National Ballet under her own direction. - -The work she produced for the Camargo Society on this Sunday night in -1931 did it. It was not a ballet in the strictest or accepted sense of -the word. Its composer called it _A Masque for Dancing_. The work was -_Job_, a danced and mimed interpretation of the Biblical story, in the -spirit of the painter and poet Blake, to one of Ralph Vaughan Williams’s -noblest scores. - -From Biblical inspiration she turned to the primitive, in a production -of Darius Milhaud’s _Creation du Monde_, a noble subject dealing with -the primitive gods of Easter Island, set to the 1923 jazz of the French -composer. - -Coincidental with the Camargo Society activities, Ninette de Valois was -making arrangements with another great Englishwoman, Lilian Baylis, who -had brought opera and drama to the masses at two theatres in the less -fashionable parts of London, the Old Vic, in the Waterloo Road, and -Sadler’s Wells, in Islington’s Rosebery Avenue. Lilian Baylis wanted a -ballet company. Armed with only her own determination and -high-mindedness, she had established a real theatre for the masses. - -Ninette de Valois, for a penny, started in with her group to do the -opera ballets at the Old Vic: those interludes in _Carmen_ and _Faust_ -and _Samson and Delilah_ that exist primarily to keep the dull -businessman in his seat with his wife instead of at the bar. However, -Lilian Baylis gave Ninette de Valois a ballet school, and it was in the -theatre, where a ballet school belonged, a part of and an adjunct to the -theatre. The Vic-Wells Ballet, soon to become the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, -was the result. - -It was not nearly as easy and as simple as it sounds as I write it. It -is beyond me fully to convey to the reader those qualities of tenacity -of purpose, of driving energy, of fearless courage that this remarkable -woman was forced to draw upon in the early years. There was no money; -and before a single penny could be separated from her, it had to be -melted from the glue with which she stuck every penny to the inside of -her purse. - -Alicia Markova joined the company. Anton Dolin was a frequent guest -artist. It was, in a sense, a Markova company, with the three most -popular works: _Swan Lake_, _The Nutcracker_, and _Giselle_. - -But, most importantly, Ninette de Valois had that vital requisite -without which, no matter how solvent the financial backing, no ballet -company is worth the price of its toe-shoes, viz., a policy. Ninette de -Valois’ policy for repertoire is codified into a simple formula: - - 1) Traditional-classical and romantic works. - - 2) Modern works of future classic importance. - - 3) Current work of more topical interest. - - 4) Works encouraging a strictly national tendency in their creation - generally. - - The first constitutes the foundation-stone, technical standard, and - historical knowledge that is demanded as a “means test” by which - the abilities of the young dancers are both developed and inspired. - - The second, those works which both musically and otherwise have a - future that may be regarded as the major works of this generation. - - The third, the topical and sometimes experimental, of merely - ephemeral interest and value, yet important as a means of balancing - an otherwise ambitious programme. - - The fourth is important to the national significance of the ballet. - Such works constitute the nation’s own contribution to the theatre, - and are in need perhaps of the most careful guidance of the groups. - -It was the classics which had, from the beginning, the place of -priority: _Swan Lake (Act II)_, _Les Sylphides_, _Carnaval_, _Coppélia_, -_The Nutcracker_, _Giselle_, and the full-length _Swan Lake_. - -In 1935, Markova left Sadler’s Wells to form her own company with Dolin. -With Markova’s departure, the whole character of the Sadler’s Wells -company changed. The Company became the Star. The company got along -without a _ballerina_ and concentrated on its own personality, on -developing dancers from its school, and on its direction. Creation and -development continued. - -However, during this time, there was emerging not precisely a “star,” -but a great _ballerina_. _Ballerina_ is a term greatly misused in the -United States, where any little dancer is much too often referred to -both in the press and in general conversation in this way. _Ballerina_ -is a title, not a term. The title is one earned only through long, hard -experience. It is attained _only_ in the highly skilled interpretation -of the great standard classical parts. Russia, France, Italy, Denmark, -countries where there are state ballets, know these things. We in the -United States, I fear, do not understand. A “star” is not one merely by -virtue of billing. A _ballerina_ is, of course, a “star,” even in a -company that has no “stars” in its billing and advertising. A true -_ballerina_ is a rare bird indeed. In an entire generation, it should be -remembered, the Russian Imperial Ballet produced only enough for the -fingers of two hands. - -The great _ballerina_ I have mentioned as having come up through the -Sadler’s Wells Company, as the product of that company, is more than a -_ballerina_. She is a _prima ballerina assoluta_, a product of Sadler’s -Wells training, of the Sadler’s Wells system, a member of that all-round -team that is Sadler’s Wells. Her name is Margot Fonteyn. I shall have -something to say about her later on. - -I have pointed out that the backbone of the Sadler’s Wells repertoire is -the classics. Therein, in my opinion, lies one of the chief reasons for -its great success. There is a second reason, I believe. That is that, -along with Ninette de Valois’ sound production policy, keeping step with -it, sometimes leading it, is an equally sound musical policy. Sitting in -with de Valois and Frederick Ashton, as the third of the directorial -triumvirate, was the brilliant musician, critic, and wit, Constant -Lambert, who exerted a powerful influence in the building of the -repertoire, and who, with the sympathetic cooperation of his two -colleagues, made the musical standards of Sadler’s Wells the highest of -any ballet company in my knowledge and experience. - -The company grew and prospered. The war merely served to intensify its -efforts--and its accomplishments. Its war record is a brilliant, albeit -a difficult one; a record of unremitting hard work and dogged -perseverance against terrible odds. The company performed unceasingly -throughout the course of the war, with bombs falling. Once the dancing -was stopped, while the dancers fought a fire ignited by an incendiary -bomb and thus saved the theatre. The company was on a good-will tour of -Holland, under the auspices of the British Council, in the spring of -1940. They were at Arnheim when Hitler invaded. Packed into buses, they -raced ahead of the Panzers, reached the last boat to leave, left minus -everything, but everything: productions, scenery, costumes, properties, -musical material, and every scrap of personal clothing. - -Once back in Britain, there was no cessation. The lost productions and -costumes were replaced; the musical material renewed, some of it, since -it was manuscript, by reorchestrating it from gramophone recordings. As -the Battle of Britain was being fought, the company toured the entire -country, with two pianos in lieu of orchestra, with Constant Lambert -playing the first piano. They played in halls, in theatres, in camps, in -factories; brought ballet to soldiers and sailors, to airmen, and to -factory workers, often by candlelight. They managed to create new works. -Back to London, to a West End theatre, with orchestra, and then, because -of the crowds, to a larger West End playhouse. - -It was at the end of the war, as I have mentioned earlier, that the -music publishing house of Boosey and Hawkes, with a splendid -generosity, saved the historic Royal Opera House, at Covent Garden, from -being turned into a popular dance hall. A common error on the part of -Americans is to believe that because it was called the Royal Opera -House, it was a State-supported theatre, as, for example, are the Royal -Opera House of Denmark, at Copenhagen, and the Paris Opéra. Among those -Maecenases who had made opera possible in the old days in London was Sir -Thomas Beecham, who made great personal sacrifices to keep it open. - -When Boosey and Hawkes took over Covent Garden, it was on a term lease. -On taking possession they immediately turned over the historic edifice -to a committee known as the Covent Garden Opera Trust, of which the -chairman was Lord Keynes, the distinguished economist and art patron -who, as plain Mr. John Maynard Keynes, had been instrumental in the -formation of the Camargo Society, and who had married the one-time -Diaghileff _ballerina_, Lydia Lopokova; this committee had acted as -god-parents to the Sadler’s Wells company in its infancy. The Arts -Council supported the venture, and David Webster was appointed -Administrator. - - * * * * * - -A word or two about the Arts Council and its support of the arts in -Britain is necessary for two reasons: one, because it is germane to the -story of Sadler’s Wells, and, two, germane to some things I wish to -point out in connection with subsidy of the arts in these troubled -times, since I believe a parallel can be drawn with our own hit-and-miss -financing. - -Under the British system, there is no attempt to interfere with -aesthetics. The late Sir Stafford Cripps pointed out that the Government -should interfere as little as possible in the free development of art. -The British Government’s attitude has, perhaps, been best stated by -Clement Atlee, as Prime Minister, when he said: “I think that we are all -of one mind in desiring that art should be free.” He added that he -thought the essential purpose of an organized society was to set free -the creative energies of the individual, while safeguarding the -well-being of all. The Government, he continued, must try to provide -conditions in which art might flourish. - -There is no “Ministry of Fine Arts” as in most continental and South -American countries. The Government’s interest in making art better known -and more within the reach of all is expressed through three bodies: the -Arts Council, the British Film Institute, and the British Council. - -The Arts Council was originally known by the rather unwieldy handle of -C. E. M. A. (The Council for the Encouragement of Music and the Arts), -originally founded by a gift from an American and Lord De La Warr, then -President of the Board of Education. In 1945, the Government decided to -continue the work, changed the name from C. E. M. A. to the Arts Council -of Great Britain, gave it Parliamentary financial support, and granted -it, on 9 August, 1946, a Royal Charter to develop “a greater knowledge, -understanding and practice of fine arts exclusively, and in particular -to increase the availability of the fine arts to the public ... to -improve the standard of the execution of the fine arts and to advise and -cooperate with ... Government departments, local authorities and other -bodies on matters concerned directly or indirectly with those objects.” - -Now, the Arts Council, while sponsored by the Government, is not a -Government department. Its chairman and governors (called members of the -Council) are appointed by the Chancellor of the Exchequer after -consultation with the Minister of Education and the Secretary of State -for Scotland. The Chancellor answers for the Council in the House of -Commons. While the Council is supported by a Government grant, its -employees are in no sense civil servants, and the Council enjoys an -independence that would not be possible were it a Government department. - -The first chairman of the Arts Council, and also a former chairman of C. -E. M. A., was Lord Keynes. His influence on the policy and direction of -the organization was invaluable. There are advisory boards, known as -panels, appointed for three years, experts chosen by the Council because -of their standing in and knowledge of their fields. Among many others, -the following well-known artists have served, without payment: Sir -Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Noel Coward, Peggy Ashcroft, J. B. -Priestley, Dame Myra Hess, Benjamin Britten, Tyrone Guthrie, Dame -Ninette de Valois, and Henry Moore. - -While statistics can be dull, a couple are necessary to the picture to -show how the Arts Council operates. For example, the Arts Council’s -annual grant from the British Treasury has risen each year: in -1945-1946, the sum was £235,000 ($658,000); in 1950-1951, £675,000 -($1,890,000). - -Treasury control is maintained through a Treasury Assessor to the Arts -Council; on his advice, the Chancellor of the Exchequer recommends to -Parliament a sum to be granted. The Assessor is in a position to judge -whether the money is being properly distributed, but he does not -interfere with the complete autonomy of the Council. - -The Council, in its turn, supports the arts of the country by giving -financial assistance or guarantees to organizations, companies, and -societies; by directly providing concerts and exhibitions; or by -directly managing and operating a company or theatre. The recipient -organizations, for their part, must be non-profit or charitable trusts -capable of helping carry out the Council’s purpose of bringing to the -British people entertainment of a high standard. Such organizations must -have been accepted as non-profit companies by H. M. Commissioners of -Customs and Excise, and exempted by them from liability to pay -Entertainments Duty. - -An example of the help tendered may be gathered from the fact that in -1950, eight festivals, ten symphony orchestras, five theatres, -twenty-five theatre companies, seven opera and ballet companies, one -society for poetry and music, two art societies, four arts centers, and -sixty-three clubs were being helped. In addition, two theatres, three -theatre companies, and one arts center were entirely and exclusively -managed by the Arts Council. Some of the best-known British orchestras, -theatres, and companies devoted to opera, ballet, and the drama are -linked to the Arts Council: The Hallé Orchestra, the London Philharmonic -Orchestra, the London Symphony Orchestra, Covent Garden Opera Trust, -Covent Garden Opera Company, and the Sadler’s Wells Companies are among -them. Also the Old Vic, Tennent Productions, Ltd., and the Young Vic -Theatre companies. - -Government assistance to opera in twentieth century Britain did not -begin with the Arts Council. In the early ’thirties Parliament granted a -small subsidy to the Covent Garden Opera Syndicate for some two years to -help present grand opera in Covent Garden and the provinces at popular -prices. A total of £40,000 ($112,000) had been paid when the grant was -withdrawn after the financial crisis of 1931, and it was more than ten -years before national opera became a reality. - -In the meantime, some ballet companies and an opera company began to -receive C. E. M. A. support. The Sadler’s Wells Opera Company and -Sadler’s Wells Ballet Company, for instance, began their association -with C. E. M. A. in 1943. C. E. M. A. was also interested in plans -stirring in 1944 and 1945 to reclaim the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden, as a national center for ballet and opera. I have pointed out -how this great theatre in London, with a history dating back to the -eighteenth century, was leased in 1944 by the international music firm -of Boosey and Hawkes, who, in turn, rented it to the newly formed Covent -Garden Opera Trust. The Trust, an autonomous body whose original -chairman was Lord Keynes, is a non-profit body which devotes any profits -it may make to Trust projects. Late in 1949, H. M. Ministry of Works -succeeded Boosey and Hawkes as lessees, with a forty-two-year lease. - -The Arts Council, in taking over from C. E. M. A., inherited C. E. M. -A.’s interest in using Covent Garden for national ballet and opera. The -Council granted Covent Garden £25,000 ($70,000) for the year ended 31 -March, 1946, and £55,000 ($154,000) for the following year. At the same -time, it was granting Sadler’s Wells Foundation £10,000 ($28,000) and -£15,000 ($42,000) in those years. - -The Covent Garden Opera Trust, in the meantime, had invited the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet to move to Covent Garden from their famous ballet center, -Sadler’s Wells. This it did, early in 1946, leaving behind another -company called the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. Ninette de Valois -continued to direct both groups. - -It was a year later the Covent Garden Opera Company gave its first -presentation under the Covent Garden Opera Trust, and the two chief -Covent Carden companies, opera and ballet, were solidly settled in their -new home. - -The Trust continues to receive a grant from the Arts Council (£145,000 -[$406,000] in 1949-1950), and it pays the rent for the Opera House and -the salaries and expenses of the companies. So far as the ballet company -is concerned, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet pretty well pays its own way, -except for that all-besetting expense in ballet, the cost of new -productions. The opera company requires relatively more support from the -Trust grant, as it has re-staged and produced every opera afresh, not -using any old productions. Moreover, the attendance for ballet is -greater than that for opera. - -The aim of Covent Garden and its Administrator, David Webster, is to -create a steady audience, and to appeal to groups that have not hitherto -attended ballet and opera, or have attended only when the most brilliant -stars were appearing. Seats sell for as little as 2s 6d (35¢), rising to -26s 3d ($3.67) and the ballet-and-opera-going habit has grown noticeably -in recent years. It is interesting to note the audience for opera -averaged eighty-three per cent capacity, and for the ballet ninety-two -per cent. - -The two British companies alternately presenting ballet and opera -provide most of the entertainment at Covent Garden, but foreign -companies such as the Vienna State Opera with the Vienna Philharmonic -Orchestra, La Scala Opera, the Paris Opéra Comique, the Ballet Theatre -from New York, the New York City Ballet Company, the Grand Ballet of the -Marquis de Cuevas, and Colonel de Basil’s Original Ballets Russes have -had short seasons there. - -The Arts Council is in association with the two permanent companies -coincidentally operating at Sadler’s Wells--the Sadler’s Wells Theatre -Ballet and the Sadler’s Wells Opera Company. Other opera and ballet -companies associated with the Arts Council are the English Opera Group, -Ltd., and the Ballet Rambert, while the Arts Council manages the St. -James Ballet Company. - -All these companies tour in Britain, and some of them make extended -tours abroad. The Ballet Rambert, for instance, has made a tour of -Australia and New Zealand, which lasted a year and a half, a record for -that area. - -The Sadler’s Wells Ballet has made long and highly successful tours of -the European continent. Its first visit to America occurred in the -autumn of 1949, when the Covent Garden Opera Trust, in association with -the Arts Council and the British Council, presented the group at the -Metropolitan Opera House in New York City, and in various other centres -in the United States and Canada, under my management. A second and much -longer visit took place in 1950-1951, with which visits this chapter is -primarily concerned. - -Sadler’s Wells has a ballet school of something more than two hundred -students, including the general education of boys and girls from ten to -sixteen. Scholarships are increasing in number; some of these are -offered by various County Councils and other local authorities, and a -number by the Royal Academy of Dancing. - -In addition to the Arts Council, I have mentioned the British Council, -and no account of Britain’s cultural activities could make any -pretensions to being intelligible without something more than a mention -of it. It should be pointed out that the major part of the British -Council’s work is done abroad. - -Established in 1934, the British Council is Britain’s chief agent for -strengthening cultural relations with the rest of the British -Commonwealth, Europe, the Middle East, the Far East, the United States, -and Latin America. It is responsible for helping to make British -cultural achievements known and understood abroad, and for bringing to -the British, in turn, a closer knowledge of foreign countries. - -Like many other British cultural bodies, the British Council derives its -main financial support from the Government (through grants from the -Foreign Office, plus certain sums on the Colonial and Commonwealth -votes), and is a body corporate, not a Government organization. Its -staff are not civil servants and its work is entirely divorced from -politics, though the Council has a certain amount of State control -because nine of the Executive Committee (fifteen to thirty in number) -are nominated by Government departments. - -The British Council’s chief activities concern educational exchanges -with foreign countries of students, teachers, and technicians, including -arranging facilities for these visitors in Britain; they include -supporting libraries and information services abroad where British books -and other reading materials are readily available, and further include -the financing of tours of British lecturers and exhibitions, and of -theatrical, musical, and ballet troupes abroad. Sadler’s Wells Ballet -has toured to Brussels, Prague, Warsaw, Poznau, Malmö, Oslo, Lisbon, -Berlin, and the United States and Canada under British Council auspices -with great success. The Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet has toured the -United States and Canada, under my management, with equal success, and -is soon to visit Africa, including Kenya Colony. The Old Vic Company, -the Boyd Neel String Orchestra, and the Ballet Rambert toured Australia -and New Zealand, and the Old Vic has toured Canada. John Gielgud’s -theatre company has visited Canada. In addition, the British Council has -sponsored visits abroad of such distinguished musicians as Sir Adrian -Boult, Sir John Barbirolli, Sir Malcolm Sargent, and Maggie Teyte. - -One of the British Council’s important trusts is the responsibility for -the special gramophone recordings of distinguished musical works and of -the spoken word. This promotion is adding notably to record libraries, -and is helping to make the best music available to listeners all over -the world. It is also the Government’s principal agent for carrying out -the cultural conventions agreed upon with other members of the United -Nations. These provide, in general, for encouraging mutual knowledge and -appreciation of each other’s culture through interchanging teachers, -offering student scholarships, and exchanging books, films, lectures, -concerts, plays, exhibitions, and musical scores. - -The relationship between the British Council and the Arts Council is -necessarily one of careful collaboration. In the time of C. E. M. A. -many tasks were accomplished in common, such as looking after foreign -residents in Great Britain. Now the division of labor of the two -Councils is well defined, with clear-cut agreement on their respective -responsibilities for the various entertainment groups that come to or go -from Britain. The British Council helps British artists and works of art -to go ahead; the Arts Council assists artistic activities in Britain, -including any that may come from abroad. Both bodies have a number of -committee members in common, and the feeling between the groups is close -and friendly. - -It is, I feel, characteristic of the British that, without a definite, -planned, long-term programme for expanding its patronage of the arts, -the British Government has nevertheless come to give financial aid to -almost every branch of the art world. This has developed over a period -of years, with accumulated speed in the last twelve because of the war, -because the days of wide patronage from large private incomes are -disappearing if not altogether disappeared, and also perhaps because of -an increasing general realization of the people’s greater need for -leisure-time occupation. - -In all of this I must point out quite emphatically that it is the -British Government’s policy to encourage and support existing and -valuable institutions. Thus the great symphony orchestras, Sadler’s -Wells Ballet, Covent Garden Opera, and various theatre companies are not -run by the Government, but given grants by the Arts Council, a -corporation supported by Government money. - -What is more, there is no one central body in Britain in charge of the -fine arts, but a number of organizations, with the Arts Council covering -the widest territory. Government patronage of the arts in Britain, as -has frequently been true of other British institutions, has grown with -the needs of the times, and the organization of the operating bodies has -been flexible and adaptable. - -The bodies that receive Government money, such as the Arts Council, the -British Broadcasting Corporation, and the British Council are relatively -independent of the Government, their employees not being civil servants -and their day-to-day business being conducted autonomously. - -There is no attempt on the part of the Government to interfere with the -presentations of the companies receiving State aid, though often the -Government encourages experimentation. A very happy combination of arts -sponsorship is now permissible under a comparatively recent Act of -Parliament that allows local government authorities to assist theatrical -and musical groups fully. Now, for instance, an orchestra based -anywhere in Britain may have the financial backing of the town -authorities, as well as of the Arts Council and private patrons. - -While accurate predictions about the future course of relations between -Government and the arts in Britain are not, of course, possible, it -seems likely, however, that all of mankind will be found with more, -rather than less, leisure in the years to come. In the days of the -industrial revolution in Britain a hundred-odd years ago, the people, by -which I mean the working classes, had little opportunity for cultivating -a taste for the arts. - -Now, with the average number of hours worked by British men, thanks to -trade unionism and a more genuinely progressive and humanitarian point -of view, standing at something under forty-seven weekly, there is -obviously less time devoted to earning a living, leaving more for -learning the art of living. It may well be that the next hundred years -will see even more intensive efforts made to help people to use their -leisure hours pleasantly and profitably. As long ago as the early -1930’s, at a time when he was so instrumental in encouraging ballet -through the founding of the Camargo Society, Lord (then J. Maynard) -Keynes wrote that he hoped and believed the day would come when the -problem of earning one’s daily bread might not be the most important one -of our lives, and that “the arena of the heart and head will be -occupied, or reoccupied, by our real problems--the problems of life and -of human relations, of creation and behavior and religion.” Then, “for -the first time since his creation,” Lord Keynes continued, “man will be -faced with his real, his permanent problem--how to use his freedom from -pressing economic cares, how to occupy the leisure science and compound -interest will have won for him to live wisely and agreeably and well.” - - * * * * * - -Stripped to the simplest explanation possible, Sadler’s Wells leased its -company to Covent Garden for a period of years. The move must have -entailed a prodigious amount of work for all concerned and for Ninette -de Valois in particular. Quite apart from all the physical detail -involved: new scenery, new musical material, new costumes, more dancers, -there was, most importantly, a change of point of view, even of -direction. With a large theatre and orchestra, and large -responsibilities, experimental works for the moment had to be postponed. -New thinking had to be employed, because the company’s direction was now -in the terms of the Maryinsky Theatre, the Bolshoi, the Paris Opéra. - -The keystone of the arch that is Sadler’s Wells’s policy is the -full-length productions of classical ballets. The prime example is _The -Sleeping Beauty_, my own reactions to which, when I first saw it, I have -already recounted. In the production of this work, the company was -preeminent, with Margot Fonteyn as a bright, particular star; but the -“star” system, if one cares to call it that, was utilized to the full, -since each night there was a change of cast; and it must be remembered -that in London it is possible to present a full-length work every night -for a month or more without changing the bill, whereas in this country, -almost daily changes are required. This, it should be pointed out, -required a good deal of audience training. - -The magnificent production of _The Sleeping Beauty_ cost more than -£10,000, at British costs. What the costs for such a production as that -would have been on this side of the Atlantic I dislike to contemplate. -The point is that it was a complete financial success. Another point I -should like to make is that while _The Sleeping Beauty_ was presented -nightly, week after week, there was no slighting of the other classical -works such as the full-length _Swan Lake_, _Coppélia_, _Les Sylphides_, -and _Giselle_; nor was there any diminution of new works or revivals of -works from their own repertoire. - -It was in 1948 I returned to London further to pursue the matter of -their invasion of America. It was my very dear friend, the late Ralph -Hawkes of the music publishing firm of Boosey and Hawkes, the -leaseholders of Covent Garden, who helped materially in arranging -matters and in persuading the Sadler’s Wells direction and the British -Arts Council that they were ready for America and that, since Hawkes was -closely identified with America’s musical life, that this country was -ready for them. - -Meanwhile, Ninette de Valois grew increasingly dubious about -full-length, full-evening ballets, such as _The Sleeping Beauty_ and -_Swan Lake_, in the States, and was convinced in her own mind that the -United States and Canadian audiences not only would not accept them, -much less sit still before a single work lasting three and one-half -hours. Much, of course, was at stake for all concerned and it was, -indeed, a serious problem about which to make a final, inevitable -decision. - -The conferences were long and many. Conferences are a natural -concomitant of ballet. But there was a vast difference between these -conferences and the hundreds I had had with the Russians, the -Caucasians, the Bulgarians, and the Axminsters. Here were neither -intrigues nor whims, neither suspicion nor stupidity. On the contrary, -here was reasonableness, logic, frankness, fundamental British honesty. -George Borodin, a Russian-born Englishman and a great ballet-lover, once -pointed out that ballet is a medium that transcends words, adding “the -tongue is a virtuoso that can make an almost inexhaustible series of -noises of all kinds.” In my countless earlier conferences with other -ballet directorates, really few of those noises, alas, really meant -anything. - -At last, the affirmative decision was made and we arrived at an -agreement on the repertoire for the American season, to include the -full-length works, along with a representative cross-section, -historically speaking, of the Sadler’s Wells repertoire of their shorter -works. The matter settled, I left for home. - -On my return to New York, still other problems awaited me. The -Metropolitan Opera House, the only possible New York stage on which -Sadler’s Wells could appear, was faced with difficulties and -perplexities, with other commitments for the period when the British -visitors would be here. - -However, thanks to the invaluable cooperation and assistance of Edward -Johnson, Alfred P. Sloan, and Mrs. August Belmont, it was decided that a -part of the season should be given to Sadler’s Wells. Had it not been -for their friendly, intelligent, and influential offices, New York might -not have had the pleasure and privilege of the Sadler’s Wells visit. - -The road at last having been cleared, our promotional campaign was -started and was limited to four weeks. The response is a matter of -theatrical history. - -Here, for the first time in the United States, was a company carrying on -the great tradition in classical ballet, with timely and contemporary -additions. Here was a company with a broad repertoire based on and -imbedded in the full-length classics, but also bolstered with modern -works that strike deep into human experience. Here were choreographers -who strove to broaden the scope of their art and to bring into their -works some of the richness of modern psychology and drama, always -balletic in idiom, with freedom of style, who permitted their dramatic -imaginations to guide them in creating movement and in the use of music. - -By boat came the splendid productions, the costumes, the properties, -loads and loads of them. By special chartered planes came the company, -and the technical staff, the entire contingent headed by the famous -directorial trio, Ninette de Valois, Frederick Ashton, and Constant -Lambert, with the executive side in the capable hands of David Webster, -General Administrator. The technical department was magnificently -presided over by Herbert Hughes, General Manager of the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet, and the late Louis Yudkin, General Stage Director. - -It was an American _ballerina_, Nora Kaye, who hustled Margot Fonteyn -from the airport to let her have her first peek at the Metropolitan -Opera House. The curtain was up when they arrived, revealing the old -gold and red auditorium. Margot’s perceptive eyes took it all in at a -glance. She took a deep breath, clasped her hands in front of her. -“Thank goodness,” she said, “it’s old and comfortable and warm and rich, -as an opera house should be.” She paused for a reflective moment and -added, “I was so afraid it would be slick and modern like everything -else here, all steel and chromium, and spit and polish. I’m glad it’s -old!”. - -On an afternoon before the opening, my very good friend, Hans Juda, -publisher of Britain’s international textile journal, _Ambassador_, -together with his charming wife, gave a large and delightful cocktail -party at Sherry’s in the Metropolitan Opera House for a large list of -invited guests from the worlds of art, business, and diplomacy. Hans -Juda is a very helpful and influential figure in the world of British -textiles and wearing apparel. It was he, together with the amiable James -Cleveland Belle of the famous Bond Street house of Horrocks, who -arranged with British designers, dressmakers, textile manufacturers, and -tailors to see that each member of the Sadler’s Wells company was -outfitted with complete wardrobes for both day and evening wear; the -distaff side with hats, suits, frocks, shoes, and accessories; the male -side with lounge suits, dinner jackets, shoes, gloves, etc. The men were -also furnished with, shall I say, necessaries for the well-dressed man, -which were soon packed away, viz., bowler hats (“derbies” to the -American native) and “brollies” (umbrellas to Broadway). - -The next night was, in more senses than one, the _BIG_ night: a -completely fabulous _première_. The Metropolitan was sold out weeks in -advance, with standees up to, and who knows, perhaps beyond, the normal -capacity. Hundreds of ballet lovers had stood in queue for hours to -obtain a place in the coveted sardine space, reaching in double line -completely round the square block the historic old house occupies on -Broadway, Seventh Avenue, Thirty-ninth and Fortieth Streets. The -orchestra stalls and boxes were filled with the great in all walks of -life. The central boxes of the “Golden Horseshoe,” draped in the Stars -and Stripes and the Union Jack, housed the leading figures of the -diplomatic and municipal worlds. - -Although the date was 9 October, it was the hottest night of the summer, -as luck would have it. The Metropolitan Opera House is denied the -benefit of modern air-conditioning; the temperature within its hallowed -walls, thanks to the mass of humanity and the lights, was many degrees -above that of the humid blanket outside. - -Despite all this, so long as I shall live, I shall never forget the -stirring round of applause that greeted that distinguished figure, -Constant Lambert, as he entered the orchestra pit to lead the orchestra -in the two anthems, the Star Spangled Banner and God Save the King. The -audience resumed their seats; there was a bated pause, and then from the -pit came the first notes of the overture to _The Sleeping Beauty_, under -the sympathetic baton of that finest of ballet conductors. So long as I -shall live I shall never forget the deafening applause as the curtains -opened on the first of Oliver Messel’s sets and costumes. That applause, -which was repeated and repeated--for Fonteyn’s entrance, increasing in -its roar until, at the end, Dame Ninette had to make a little speech, -against her will--still rings in my ears. - -I have had the privilege of handling the world’s greatest artists and -most distinguished attractions; my career has been punctuated with -stirring opening performances of my own, and I have been at others quite -as memorable. However, so far as the quality of the demonstrations and -the manifestations of enthusiasm are concerned, the _première_ of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet at the Metropolitan Opera House, on 9 October, -1949, was the most outstanding of my entire experience. - -Dame Ninette de Valois, outwardly as calm as ever, but, I suspect, -inwardly a mass of conflicting emotions, was seated in the box with -Mayor O’Dwyer. As the curtains closed on the first act of _The Sleeping -Beauty_, and the tremendous roar of cheers and applause rose from the -packed house, the Mayor laid his hand on “Madame’s” arm and said, “Lady, -you’re _in_!” - -Crisply and a shade perplexed, “Madame” replied: - -“In?... Really?” - -Genuinely puzzled now, she tried unsuccessfully to translate to herself -what this could mean. “Strange language,” she thought, “I’m _in_?... In -what?... What on earth does that mean?” - -We met in the interval. I grasped her hand in sincere congratulation. -She patted me absently as she smiled. Then she turned and spoke. - -“Look here,” she said, “could you translate for me, please, something -His Lordship just said to me as the curtain fell? Put it into English, I -mean?” - -It was my turn to be puzzled. “Madame” was, I thought, seated with Mayor -O’Dwyer. Had she wandered about, moved to another box? - -“His Lordship?” - -“Yes, yes, of course. Your Lord Mayor, with whom I am sitting.” - -I hadn’t thought of O’Dwyer in terms of a peer. - -“Yes, yes,” she continued, “as the applause, that very surprising -applause rang out at the end, the Lord Mayor turned to me and said, -‘Lady, you’re _in_!’ Just like that. Now will you please translate for -me what it is? Tell me, is that good or bad?” - -Laughingly I replied, “What do you think?” - -“I really don’t know” was her serious and sincere response. - -The simple fact was that Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E., D. Litt., to -whose untiring efforts Sadler’s Wells owes its success, its existence, -its very being, honestly thought the company was failing in New York. - -This most gala of gala nights was crowned by a large and extremely gay -supper party given by Mayor O’Dwyer, at Gracie Mansion, the official -residence of the Mayor of the City of New York. It was a warm and balmy -night, with an Indian Summer moon--one of those halcyon nights all too -rare. Because of this, it was possible to stage the supper in that most -idyllic of settings, on the spacious lawn overlooking the moon-drenched -East River, with the silhouettes of the great bridges etched in silver -lights against the glow from the hundreds of colored lights strung over -the lawn. Beneath all this gleamed the white linen of the many tables, -the sparkle of crystal, the gloss of the silver. - -Two orchestras provided continuous dance music, the food and the -champagne were ineffable. It was a party given by the Mayor: to honor -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet and to cement those cultural ties between the -two great world centers, London and New York. What better means are -there for mutual understanding and admiration? - -There was, however, a delay on the part of the company in leaving the -Metropolitan Opera House, a quite extended delay. Three large buses -waited at the stage door, manned by Police Department Inspectors in -dress uniforms, with gold badges. But this was the first time the -company had worn the new evening creations I have mentioned. It took -longer to array themselves in these than it did for them to prepare for -the performance. As a matter of fact, Margot Fonteyn and Moira Shearer -were the last to be ready, each of them ravishing and stunning, the -dark, flashing brunette beauty of Fonteyn in striking contrast to the -soft, pinkish loveliness of Shearer. - -Then it was necessary for our staff and the police to form a flying -wedge to clear a path from the stage door to the waiting buses through -the tightly-packed crowd that waited in Fortieth Street for a glimpse of -the triumphant stars. - -Safe aboard at last, off the cavalcade started, headed by a Police -Department squad car, with siren tied down, red lights flashing, -together with two motorcycle police officers fifteen feet in advance and -the same complement, squad car and outriders, bringing up the rear of -the procession, through the red traffic lights, thus providing the -company with yet another American thrill. - -There was a tense instant as the procession left the Metropolitan and -the police sirens commenced their wail. The last time the company had -heard a siren was in the days of the blitz in London, when, no matter -how inured one became, the siren’s first tintinnabulation brought on -that sudden shock that no familiarity can entirely eradicate. It was -Constant Lambert’s dry wit that eased the situation. “It’s all right, -girls,” he called out, “that’s the ‘all clear.’”. - -Heading the receiving line at Gracie Mansion, as the company descended -the wide stairs into the festive garden, were the Mayor and Grover -Whalen, Sir Oliver and Lady Franks, Sir Alexander Cadogan, the Honorable -Trygve Lie, President Romulo. There was a twinkle in Mayor O’Dwyer’s -eye, as some of the _corps de ballet_ girls curtsied with a -“Good-evening, your Lordship.” - -Toasts were drunk to the President of the United States, the King of -England, Dame Ninette de Valois, to the Mayor, to Margot Fonteyn, Moira -Shearer, and the other principals. The party waxed even gayer. Dancers -seem never to tire of dancing. It was three in the morning when the -Mayor made a short speech to say “good-night,” explaining that he was -under doctor’s orders to go to bed, but that the party was to continue -unabated, and all were to enjoy themselves. - -It was past four o’clock when it finally broke up, and the buses, with -their police escorts, started the journey back through a sleeping -Manhattan to deposit the company at their various hotels. Constant -Lambert, the lone wolf, lived apart from the rest at an East Side hotel. -All the rest of the company had been dropped, when three buses, six -inspectors, two squad cars, four motorcycle officers, halted before the -sedate hostelry after five in the morning, and Constant Lambert, the -sole passenger in the imposing cavalcade, slowly and with a grave, -seventeenth-century dignity, solemnly shook hands with drivers, motor -police, and all the inspectors, thanked them for the extremely -interesting, and, as he put it, “highly informative” journey, saluted -them with his sturdy blackthorn stick, and disappeared within the chaste -portals of the hotel, while the police stood at salute, and two -bewildered milk-men looked on in wonder. - -The New York season was limited only by the availability of the -Metropolitan Opera House. We could have played for months. Also, the -company was due back at Covent Garden to fulfil its obligations to the -British taxpayer. Following the Metropolitan engagement, there was a -brief tour, involving a special train of six baggage cars, diner, and -seven Pullmans, visiting, with equal success and greeted by capacity and -turn-away houses, Washington, Richmond, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, -Chicago, and Michigan State College at East Lansing; thence across the -border into Canada, for engagements at Toronto, Ottawa, and Montreal, to -honor the Commonwealth. - -Before David Webster returned to London, we discussed the matter of an -early return for a longer stay. I pointed out that, with such an evident -success, Sadler’s Wells could not afford to delay its return for still -further and greater triumphs. Now, I emphasized, was the time to take -advantage of the momentum of success; now, if ever, was the time, since -the promotion, the publicity, the press notices, all were cumulative in -effect. - -Webster, I knew, was impressed. I waited for his answer. But he shook -his head slowly. - -“Sol,” he said, “it’s doubtful. Frankly, I do not think it is possible.” - -Meanwhile, I discussed the entire matter of the return with leading -members of the company. All were of a single opinion, all of one mind. -They were anxious and eager to return. - -Such are the workings of the Sadler’s Wells organization, however, that -it was necessary to delay a decision as to a return visit until at least -the 3rd or 4th of January, 1950, in order that the matter could be -properly put before the British Arts Council and the British Council for -their final approval. - -It should not be difficult for the reader to understand the anxiety and -eagerness with which I anticipated that date. - - * * * * * - -It seems to me that during this period of suspense it might be well for -me to sum up my impression of the repertoire that made up the initial -season. - -The Sadler’s Wells Ballet repertoire for the first American season -consisted of the following works: _The Sleeping Beauty_; _Le Lac des -Cygnes_ (_Swan Lake_) in full; _Cinderella_, in three acts; _Job_; -_Façade_; _Apparitions_; _The Rake’s Progress_; _Miracle in the -Gorbals_; _Hamlet_; _Symphonic Variations_; _A Wedding Bouquet_; and -_Checkmate_. The order is neither alphabetical nor necessarily in the -order of importance. Actually, irrespective of varying degrees of -success on this side of the Atlantic, they are all important, for they -represent, in a sense, a cross-section of the repertoire history of the -company. - -_The Sleeping Beauty_, in its Sadler’s Wells form, is a ballet in a -Prologue and three acts. The story is a collaboration by Marius Petipa -and I. A. Vsevolojsky, (the Director of the Russian Imperial Theatres at -the time of its creation), after the Charles Perrault fairy tale. The -music, of course, is Tchaikowsky’s immortal score. The scenery and -costumes are by Oliver Messel. The original Petipa choreography was -reproduced by Nicholas Serguëeff. - -It was the work which so brilliantly inaugurated the company’s -occupation of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, on 20th February, -1946. Sadler’s Wells had previously revived the work in 1939, on a -smaller scale, under the title _The Sleeping Princess_. - -My unforgettable memories of the present production are topped by the -inspired interpretation of the title role by Margot Fonteyn, who -alternated moods of subtlety and childlike simplicity with brilliant -fireworks, always within the ballet’s frame. There is the shining memory -of Beryl Grey’s magnificent Lilac Fairy, the memory of the alternating -casts, one headed by Moira Shearer, entirely different in its way. There -is, as a matter of fact, little difference between the casts. Always -there were such ensemble performances as the States had never before -seen. Over all shone the magnificence of Oliver Messel’s scenery and -costumes. - -The full-length _Swan Lake_ (_Le Lac des Cygnes_), actually in four -acts, was a revelation to audiences for years accustomed to the -truncated second act version. Its libretto, or book, is a Russian -compilation by Begitschev and Geltser. It was first presented by -Sadler’s Wells in the present settings and costumes by Leslie Hurry, -with the original choreography by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, -reproduced by Nicholas Serguëeff, on 7th September, 1943. - -This production replaced an earlier one, first done at the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, on 20th November, 1934, with Alicia Markova as the Swan -Queen, and the scenery and costumes by Hugh Stevenson. - -On the 13th April, 1947, it came to Covent Garden, with an increased -_corps de ballet_, utilizing the entire Covent Garden stage, as it does -at the Metropolitan Opera House. - -As always, Margot Fonteyn is brilliant in the dual role of Odette-Odile. -In all my wide experience of Swan Queens, Fonteyn today is unequaled. -With the Sadler’s Wells company, there is no dearth of first-rate Swan -Queens: Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer, Beryl Grey, Violetta Elvin. -Altogether, in case the reader has not already suspected it, _Swan Lake_ -is, I think, my favorite ballet. It is not only a classical ballet; it -is a classic. The haunting Tchaikowsky score, its sheer romanticism, its -dramatic impact, all these things individually and together, give it its -pride of place with the public of America as well as with myself. Here -my vote is with the majority. - -The third full-length work, so splendid in its settings and so bulky -that its performances had to be limited by its physical proportions only -to the largest stages, was _Cinderella_, which took up every inch on the -great stage of the Metropolitan Opera House. _Cinderella_ was the first -full evening ballet in the modern repertoire of Sadler’s Wells. A -three-act work, with choreography by Frederick Ashton, to the score by -Serge Prokofieff, its scenery and costumes are by the French painter, -Jean-Denis Malclès. - -Here was an instance where the chief choreographer of Sadler’s Wells, -Frederick Ashton, had the courage to tackle a full-length fairy story, -the veritable stuff from which true ballets are made in the grand -tradition of classical ballet: a formidable task. The measure of his -success is that he managed to do it by telling a beautiful and -thrice-familiar fairy tale in a direct and straightforward manner, never -dragging in spectacle for the sake of spectacle. Moreover, he was -eminently successful in avoiding, on the one hand, those sterilities of -classicism that lead only to boredom, and the grotesqueries of -modernism, on the other. - -For music, Ashton took the score Prokofieff composed for the Soviet -ballet of the same name, but created an entirely new work to the music. -The settings and costumes by Malclès could not have been more right, -filled as they are with the glamor of the fairy tale spirit and utterly -free from any trace of vulgarity. - -I shall always remember the Ugly Sisters of Ashton and Robert Helpmann, -in the best tradition of English pantomime. Moreover, the production was -blessed with three alternating Cinderellas, each individual in approach -and interpretation: Fonteyn, Shearer, and Elvin. - -_Job_, the reader will remember, is not called a ballet but “A Masque -for Dancing.” The adaptation of the Biblical legend in the spirit of the -William Blake drawings is the work of a distinguished British surgeon -and Blake authority, Geoffrey Keynes. It was the first important -choreographic work of Ninette de Valois. Its scenery and costumes were -the product of John Piper; its music is one of the really great scores -of that dean of living British composers, Ralph Vaughan Williams. - -In the music, completely modern in idiom, Vaughan Williams has followed -the overall pattern of the sixteenth and seventeenth century “Masques,” -using period rhythms (but not melodies) such as the _Pavane_, the -_Minuet_, the _Saraband_, and the _Gaillard_. - -The production itself is on two levels, in which all the earthly, -material characters remain on the stage level, while the spiritual -characters are on a higher level, the two levels being joined by a large -flight of steps. - -One character stands out in domination of the work. That is Satan, -created by Anton Dolin, and danced here by Robert Helpmann. The climax -of _Job_ occurs when Satan is hurled down from heaven. The whole thing -is a work of deep and moving beauty--a serious, thoughtful work that -ranks as one of Ninette de Valois’ masterpieces. - -_Façade_ represented the opposite extreme in the Sadler’s Wells -repertoire. There was considerable doubt on the part of the company’s -directorate that it would be acceptable on this side of the Atlantic, -because of its essential British humor; it was also feared that it might -be dated. As matters turned out, it was one of the most substantial -successes among the shorter works. - -_Façade_ was originally staged by Ashton for the Camargo Society in -1931, came to the Sadler’s Wells Ballet in 1935, was lost in the German -invasion of Holland, and was restored in the present settings and -costumes of John Armstrong in 1940. It is, of course, freely adapted -from the Edith Sitwell poems, with the popular score by Sir William -Walton. - -Fresh, witty, and humorous throughout, there is no suggestion of either -provincialism or of being dated. Its highlights for me were the Tango, -superbly danced by Frederick Ashton and Moira Shearer, who alternated -with Pamela May, and the Yodelling Song with its bucolic milkmaid. - -_Apparitions_ perhaps bore too close a resemblance in plot to Massine’s -treatment of the Berlioz _Symphonie Fantastique_, although the former is -a much earlier work, having been staged by Ashton in 1933. Its story is -by Constant Lambert; its music, a Lambert selection of the later music -of Franz Liszt, re-orchestrated by Gordon Jacob. Cecil Beaton designed -the extremely effective scenery and costumes. It was taken into the -Sadler’s Wells repertoire in 1936. - -It provided immensely effective roles for Margot Fonteyn and Robert -Helpmann. - -Strikingly successful was Ninette de Valois’ _The Rake’s Progress_. This -is a six-scene work, based on William Hogarth’s famous series of -paintings of the same name. Its story, like its music, is by Gavin -Gordon. Its setting, a permanent closed box, subject to minor changes -during the action, scene to scene, with an act-drop of a London street, -is by the late Rex Whistler, as are the costumes, Hogarthian in style. - -It is a highly dramatic work, in reality a sort of morality play, -perhaps, more than it is a ballet in the accepted sense of the term, but -a tremendously important work in the evolution of the repertoire that is -so peculiarly Sadler’s Wells. - -_Miracle in the Gorbals_ is another of the theatre pieces in the -repertoire. The choreographic work of Robert Helpmann, it is based on a -story by Michael Benthall, to a specially commissioned score by Sir -Arthur Bliss. Its setting and costumes are by the British artist, Edward -Burra. It was a wartime addition to the repertoire in the fall of 1944. - -Like _The Rake’s Progress_, _Miracle in the Gorbals_ is also a sort of -morality play, with strong overtones of a sociological tract. Bearing -plot and theme resemblances to Jerome K. Jerome’s _The Passing of the -Third Floor Back_, it puts the question: “What sort of treatment would -God receive if he returned to earth and visited the slums of a twentieth -century city?” - -A realistic work, it deals with low-life in a strictly down-to-earth -manner. As a spectacle of crowded tenement life, it mingles such -theatrical elements as the raising of the dead, murder, suicide, -prostitution. The Bliss music splendidly underlines the action. - -With all of its drama and melodrama, it was not, nevertheless, one of my -favorite works. - -The other Helpmann creation was _Hamlet_, staged by him two years before -_Miracle in the Gorbals_, in 1942. Utilizing the Tchaikowsky -fantasy-overture, its tremendously effective scenery and costumes are by -Leslie Hurry. - -_Hamlet_ was not an attempt to tell the Shakespeare story in ballet -form. Rather is it a work that attempts to portray the dying thoughts of -Hamlet as his life passes before him in review. Drama rather than dance, -it is a spectacle, linked from picture to picture by dances, a work in -which mime plays an important part. - -_Symphonic Variations_, set to César Franck’s work for piano and -orchestra of the same title, was Ashton’s first purely dance work in -abstract form. - -A work without plot, it employed only six dancers, three couples, on an -immense stage in an immensely effective setting of great simplicity by -Sophie Fedorovich. The six dancers were: Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer, -and Pamela May; Michael Somes, Henry Danton, and Brian Shaw. There is no -virtuoso role. It is a lyric work, calm, ordered, in which the classical -spirit is exalted in a mood of all for one, one for all. - -_A Wedding Bouquet_ is certainly the most genuinely witty work in all -modern ballet repertoire. The work of that genuine wit and gentleman of -impeccable taste in music, literature, and painting, the late Lord -Berners, it was staged by Ashton in 1937. Utilizing a text by Gertrude -Stein, spoken by a narrator seated at a table at the side of the stage, -its music, its scenery, its costumes, all are by Lord Berners. At the -Metropolitan Opera House, the narrator was the inimitable Constant -Lambert. In later performances, the role was taken over by Robert -Irving, the chief conductor. - -The work, a collaboration between Ashton, Berners, and Gertrude Stein, -is the most completely sophisticated ballet I know. The amazing thing -about it to me is that with its utterly integrated Stein text, it goes -as well in large theatres as it does in the smaller ones. The text is as -important as the dancing or the music. - -For me, aside from the hilarity of the work itself, was the pleasure I -derived from the performance of Moira Shearer as the thwarted spinster -who loved her dog, and June Brae, who danced the role of Josephine, who -was certainly not fitted to go to a wedding, as Gertrude Stein averred. -As the Bridegroom, Robert Helpmann provided a comic masterpiece. - -_Checkmate_ was the first British ballet to have its _première_ outside -the country, having been first presented as a part of the Dance Festival -at the International Exposition in Paris, in the summer of 1937. Both -music and book are by Sir Arthur Bliss, with scenery and costumes by the -Anglo-American artist, E. McKnight Kauffer. - -The concerns of the ballet are with a game of chess, with the dancers -pawns in the game. It appeals to me strongly, and I feel it is one of -Ninette de Valois’ finest choreographic achievements. It is highly -dramatic, leading to a grim tragedy. Its music is tremendously fine and -McKnight Kauffer’s settings and costumes are striking, effective, and -revolutionary. This is a work of first importance in all ballet -repertoire. - -I embarked upon a continuing bombardment of Ninette de Valois and David -Webster by cables and long-distance telephone calls. I never for a -instant let the matter out of my mind. - -As I counted off the days until a decision was due, the old year ran -out. It was on New Year’s Eve, while working in my office, that I was -taken ill. I had not been feeling entirely myself for several days, but -illness is something so foreign to me that I laughed it off as something -presumably due to some irregularity of living. - -Suddenly, late in the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, I found myself -doubled up with pain. I was rushed to hospital. A hasty blood-count -revealed the necessity for an immediate appendectomy. Before the old -year was greeted by the new, I had submitted to surgery. The doctors -said it was just in time--a case of “touch and go.” A good many things -in my life have been that. - -A minimum of a week’s hospitalization was imperative, the doctors said, -and after that another fortnight of quiet recuperation. I remained in -hospital the required week. - -Very soon after, against the united wishes of Mrs. Hurok and my office, -I was on a plane bound for London. - -At the London airport I was met by David Webster, who took me as quickly -and as smoothly as possible to my old stamping-ground, the Savoy Hotel, -where, on Webster’s firm insistence, I spent the next twelve hours in -bed. There followed extended consultations with Ninette de Valois and -Webster; but neither was able to give a definite answer on the -all-important matter of the second American tour. - -I pointed out to them that, in order to protect all concerned, bookings -were already being made across the United States and Canada: bookings -involving in many instances, definite guarantees. As I waited for a -decision, my office was daily badgering me. I was at a loss what to -reply to them. There were daily inconclusive trans-Atlantic telephone -conversations with my office and daily inconclusive conversations with -the Sadler’s Wells directorate. - -At last there came a glimmer. Webster announced that he believed a final -decision could be reached at or about 16th February. He required, he -said, that much further time in order to be able to figure out the -precise costs of the venture and to determine what, if anything, might -be left after the payment of all the terrific costs. In other words, he -had to determine and calculate the precise nature of the risk.... -Figures, figures, and still more figures.... Cables backwards and -forwards across the Atlantic, with my New York office checking and -rechecking on the capacities of the auditoriums, theatres, opera houses, -and halls in which the bookings had been made. - -The 16th February passed and still no decision was forthcoming. On 19th -February, all that could be elicited from Webster was: “I simply can’t -say at this juncture.” He added that he appreciated my position and -regretted the daily disappointments to which I was being subjected. - -There came the 22nd of February, in the United States the anniversary of -the birth of George Washington. This year in London, the 22nd of -February was the eve of the General Election. Most of the afternoon I -spent with Webster at his flat, going over papers. We dined together -and, as we parted, Webster’s only remark was: “See you at the -performance.” - -Meanwhile the pressure on me from New York increased. - -“What _is_ going to happen?” became the reiterated burden of the daily -messages from my office. - -Other matters in New York were requiring my attention, and it had become -necessary to inform Webster that it would be impossible for me to remain -any longer in London and that I was sailing in the _Queen Mary_ on -Friday. - -Election Eve I went to the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, to watch -another Sadler’s Wells performance. In the main foyer I ran into -Webster. - -“Can you guarantee us our expenses _and_ a profit?” he asked. - -“I can.” - -“It’s a deal.” - -It was eight-thirty in the evening of the 22nd February that the verbal -deal was made. Five hours difference in time made it three-thirty in the -afternoon in New York. I hurried back to the Savoy and called Mae -Frohman. - -“What’s going to happen?” - -“It’s all set,” I replied. - -Back to Covent Garden I went. In the Crush Bar, Webster and I toasted -our deal with a bottle of champagne. - -During Election Day, Webster, “Madame,” and I worked on repertoire and -final details; but, for the most part, we gave our attention to the -early returns from the General Election. After the performance that -night at the Garden, David Webster and his friend James Cleveland Belle, -joined me at the Savoy and remained until four in the morning, with one -eye and one ear on the returns. - -The next day I sailed in the good _Queen Mary_ and had a lovely -crossing, with my good friend, Greer Garson, on board to make the trip -even more pleasant. - -Mrs. Hurok, my daughter Ruth, Mae Frohman, and my office staff met me at -the Cunard pier; and I told the whole story, in all its intricate -detail, to them. - -But there were still loose ends to be caught up, and April found me -again back in London. The night following my arrival, I gave a big party -at the Savoy, with Ninette de Valois, Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer and -David Webster as the guests of honor. We toasted the success of the -first American season; drank another to the success of the forthcoming -and much more extended tour. - -While in London, we clarified and agreed upon many details, including -the final repertoire for the second American venture--which was to -reach, not only from coast to coast, but to dip into the far south as -well as far to the north. - -Back in New York for a brief stay and then, in June, Mrs. Hurok and I -left for our annual sojourn in Europe. This time we went direct to -London, where we revelled in the performances at Covent Garden. - -I have always loved London and always have been a great admirer of -London, the place, and of those things for which it stands as a symbol. -I love suddenly coming upon the fascinating little squares, with their -stately old houses, as often as not adorned with a fifteenth-century -church. Although modernism sometimes almost encroaches, they still -retain an old-fashioned dreaminess. - -About all is the atmosphere of history, tradition, and the aura of a -genuinely free people. The Royal Opera House itself has a particular -fascination for me. So far as I am concerned, there is not the slightest -incongruity in the fact that its façade looks out on a police station -and police court and that it is almost otherwise surrounded by a garden -market. A patina of associations seems to cover the fabric, both inside -and out--whether it is the bare boards and iron rails of the high -old-fashioned gallery, or the gilt and red plush and cream-painted -woodwork, the thin pillars of the boxes, the rather awkward staircases, -the “Crush” bar and the other bars, the red curtain bearing the coat of -arms of the reigning Monarch. Then, lights down, the great curtain -sweeps up, and once again, for the hundredth time, the tense magic holds -everyone in thrall. - -I love the true ballet lovers who are not to be found in the boxes alone -or in the stalls exclusively. Many of them sit in the lower-priced seats -in the upper circle, the amphitheatre, and in the gallery. The night -before an opening or an important revival or cast change, a long queue, -equipped with camp-chairs and sandwiches, waits patiently to be admitted -to the gallery seats the following evening. - -There is one figure I miss now at Covent Carden, one that seemed to me -to be a part of its very fabric. For years, going back stage to see Anna -Pavlova, Chaliapine, others of my artists, and in the days of the de -Basil Ballet, it was he who always had a cheery greeting. In 1948, Tom -Jackson closed his eyes in the sleep everlasting, to open them, one -hopes, at some Great Stage Door. He was the legendary stage door-keeper, -was Tom Jackson, and certainly one of the most important persons in -Covent Garden. He was a gentleman in the best sense of the word. Many -were the celebrated artists he saw come and go during his long regime. -Everybody spoke to him in their own tongue, although Jackson invariably -replied in English. He was, I remember, in charge of the artists’ mail, -and knew everyone, and remembered every name and every face. Jackson was -not only interested in his stage door, but took deep interest in the -artistic aspect of Covent Garden. Immediately after a performance of -either ballet or opera, he made up his mind whether it had been good or -bad. - -Sometimes it fell to Jackson’s lot to regulate matters outside the -Garden. The gallery queues, as is the London custom, attract all sorts -of itinerant musicians and entertainers to the Floral Street side where -they display and reveal their art to the patiently waiting galleryites. -If the hurdy-gurdies and public acclamations grew so loud that they -might disturb any in the offices above, Jackson, with infallible tact, -stopped the disturbance without offending the queuers or the -entertainers by his interference. - -Jackson guarded the Garden inexorably and was relentless on questions of -admission. With unerring instinct, he distinguished between friend and -foe, and was renowned for his treatment of the yellow press and its -columnists, with its nose for gossip and scandal. He is said once to -have unceremoniously deposited an over-enthusiastic columnist in the -street, after having refused a considerable sum of money for permission -to photograph a fainting _ballerina_. He was once seen chasing a large -woman who was brandishing a heavy umbrella around the outside of the -building. The large woman, in turn, was chasing Leonide Massine running -at full tilt. The woman, obviously a crackpot, had accused Massine of -stealing her idea for a ballet. Jackson caught the woman and disarmed -her. - -The London stage doorkeeper is really a breed unto himself. - -I love opening nights at Covent Garden, when it becomes, quite apart -from the stage, a unique social function in the display of dresses and -jewels, despite the austerity. It is always a curious mixture of private -elegance and public excitement. The excitement extends to all streets of -the district, right down to the Strand, making a strange contrast with -the cabbage stalls, stray potatoes, and the odor of vegetables lingering -on from the early market. The impeccable and always polite London police -are in control of all approaches, directing the endless stream of cars -without delay as they draw up in the famous covered way under the -portico. Ceremoniously they take care of all arriving pedestrians, and -surprisingly hold up even the most pretentious and important traffic to -let the pedestrian seat-holder through. The richly uniformed porters -keep chattering socialites from impeding traffic with a stern ritual all -their own, and announcing waiting cars in stentorian tones.... Ever in -my mind Covent Garden is associated with that sacred hour back stage -before a ballet performance, the company in training-kits, practising -relentlessly. Only those who know this hour can form any idea of the -overwhelming cost of the dancers’ brief glamorous hour before the -public. - -Particularizing from the general, from the very beginning, in all -contacts with the British and with Sadler’s Wells, the relations between -all concerned have been like those prevailing in a kind and -understanding family, and they remain so today. - -And now at the Savoy is the best smoked salmon in the world--Scottish -salmon. When I am there, a special large tray of it is always ready for -me. It is a passion I share with Ninette de Valois, who insists it is -her favorite dish. The question I am about to ask is purely rhetorical: -Is there anything finer than smoked Scottish salmon, with either a cold, -dry champagne or Scotch whiskey? - -The repertoire for the second American-Canadian tour of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet included, in addition to _The Sleeping Beauty_, the -four-act _Le Lac des Cygnes_ (_Swan Lake_), _Façade_, _A Wedding -Bouquet_, _The Rake’s Progress_ and _Checkmate_, the following works new -to America: their own production of _Giselle_, _Les Patineurs_, _Don -Quixote_, and _Dante Sonata_. - -_Giselle_, in the Sadler’s Wells version, with its Adam score, has -scenery and costumes by James Bailey, and was produced by Nicholas -Serguëeff, after the choreography of Coralli and Perrot. - -The original Wells production was at the Old Vic, in 1934, with Alicia -Markova in the title role. The production for Covent Garden dates from -1946, with Margot Fonteyn as Giselle. - -It requires no comment from me save to point out that Fonteyn is one of -the most interesting and effective interpreters of the role in my -experience, and I have seen a considerable number of Giselles. - -_Les Patineurs_ had been seen in America in a version danced by Ballet -Theatre. The Sadler’s Wells version is so much better that there is no -real basis for comparison. This version, by Frederick Ashton, dates back -to 1937. It has an interesting history. It is my understanding that the -original idea was that Ninette de Valois would stage it. The story has -it that, one night at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre, Ashton, whose -dressing-room adjoined that of Constant Lambert, heard the latter -working out dance rhythms from two Meyerbeer operas, _Star of the North_ -and _The Prophet_. The story goes on that Ashton was moved by the -melodies and that because “Madame” was so occupied with executive and -administrative duties, the choreographic job was given to him. Ashton -states that he composed this ballet, which is exclusively concerned with -skating, without ever having seen an ice-rink. - -I find it one of the most charming ballets in the repertoire, with -something in it for everyone. In these days of so-called “ice-ballets,” -which have little or no relation to ballet, however much they may have -to do with ice, I find here an academic ballet, which is very close to -skating. - -_Don Quixote_ was seen in but a few cities. It was the most recent work, -at that time, to be shown. Choreographed by Ninette de Valois, it was a -ballet in five scenes with both its scenario and its music by Robert -Gerhard, with scenery and costumes by Edward Burra. - -The story, of course, was the Cervantes tale. It was not a “dancing” -ballet, in the sense that it had no virtuoso passages. But it told its -story, nevertheless, through the medium of dance rather than by mime and -acting. My outstanding impressions of it are the splendid score, Margot -Fonteyn’s outstanding characterization of a dual role, and the shrewdly -observed Sancho Panza of the young Alexander Grant. - -_Dante Sonata_ was, in a sense, a collaborative work by Frederick Ashton -and Constant Lambert. Its date is 1940. Its scenery and costumes are by -Sophie Fedorovich. The music is the long piano sonata by Franz Liszt, -_D’après une lecture de Dante_, utilizing the poem by Victor Hugo. The -orchestration of the piano work by Lambert, with its use of Chinese -tam-tam and gong, is singularly effective. - -At the time of its production, there was a story in general circulation -to the effect that Ashton found his inspiration for the work in the -sufferings of the Polish people at the hands of the Nazi invaders. This -appears not to have been the case. The truth of the matter seems to have -been that at about the time he was planning the work, Ashton was deeply -moved by the death of a close and dear relative. The chief influence -would, therefore, seem to be this, and thus to account for the -choreographer’s savagery against the inevitability and immutability of -death. - -It is not, in any sense, a classical work, for Ashton, in order to -portray the contorted and writhing spirits, went to the “free” or -“modern” dance for appropriate movements. While, in the wide open spaces -of America, it did not fulfil the provincial audiences’ ideas of what -they expected from ballet, nevertheless it had some twenty-nine -performances in the United States and Canada. - -The second American season opened at the Metropolitan Opera House, on -Sunday evening, 10th September, 1950. Again it was hot. The full-length -_Le Lac des Cygnes_ (_Swan Lake_) was the opening programme. The evening -was a repetition of the previous year: capacity, cheering houses, with -special cheers for Fonteyn. - -The demand for seats on the part of the New York public was even greater -than the year before, with a larger number consequently disappointed and -unable to get into the Metropolitan at all. - -From the company’s point of view, aside from hard work--daily classes, -rehearsals, and eight performances a week--there was a round of -entertainment for them, the most outstanding, perhaps, being the day -they spent as the guests of J. Alden Talbot at Smoke Rise, his New -Jersey estate. - -The last night’s programme at the Metropolitan season was _The Sleeping -Beauty_. The final night’s reception matched that of the first. Ninette -de Valois’ charming curtain speech, in which she announced another visit -on the part of the company to New York--“but not for some -time”--couldn’t keep the curtain down, and the calls continued until it -was necessary to turn up the house lights. - -Following the New York engagement, Sadler’s Wells embarked on the -longest tour of its history, and the most successful tour in the history -of ballet. - -The New York season extended from 10th September to 1st October. The -company appeared in the following cities: Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, -Atlanta, Birmingham, New Orleans, Houston, Los Angeles, San Francisco, -Sacramento, Denver, Lincoln, Des Moines, Omaha, Tulsa, Dallas, Oklahoma -City, Memphis, St. Louis, Bloomington, Lafayette, Detroit, Cleveland, -Cincinnati, Chicago, Winnipeg, Boston, White Plains, Toronto, Ottawa, -Montreal, and Quebec. - -Starting on the 10th September, in New York, the tour closed in Quebec -City on 28th January, 1951. - -In thirty-two cities, during a period of five months, the people of this -continent had paid more than two million and one-half dollars to see the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet. On Election Eve in London, David Webster had -asked me if I could guarantee them their expenses and a profit. - -On the first tour the company covered some ten thousand miles. On the -second tour, this was extended to some twenty-one thousand. - -The box-office records that were broken by the company could only add to -the burden of statistics. Suffice it to say, they were many. History -was made: the sort of history that can be made again only by the next -Sadler’s Wells tour. - -Some idea of the magnitude of the transportation and railroading -problems involved in an extended tour of this sort may be gathered from -the fact that the “Sadler’s Wells Special” consisted of six Pullman -sleeping cars, six baggage cars, and two dining cars, together with a -club-bar-lounge car on long journeys. - -I made it a point to be with the company at all the larger cities. I -left them at Philadelphia, and awaited their arrival in Los Angeles. -Neither I nor Los Angeles has ever seen anything like the opening night -of their engagement at the enormous Shrine Auditorium, or like the -entire engagement, as a matter of fact. - -Because of a company rule that, on opening nights and in the case of -parties of official or semi-official greeting nature, the entire -personnel of the company and staff should attend in a body, an -unfortunate situation arose in Los Angeles. A Beverly Hills group had -announced a large party to which some of the company had been invited, -without having cleared the matter in advance. The resultant situation -was such that the advertised and publicized party was cancelled. - -The sudden cancellation left the company without a party with which to -relieve the strain of the long trek to the Pacific Coast, and the tense -excitement of the first performance in the world’s film capital. As a -consequence, I arranged to give a large party to the entire company and -staff, in conjunction with Edwin Lester, the Director of the Los Angeles -Civic Light Opera Association, and the local sponsor of the engagement. -The party took place at the Ambassador Hotel, where the entire company -was housed during the engagement, with its city within a city, its -palm-shaded swimming-pool. - -As master of ceremonies and guest of honor, we invited Charles Chaplin, -distinguished artist and famous Briton. Among the distinguished guests -from the film world were, among many others, Ezio Pinza, Edward G. -Robinson, Greer Garson, Barry Fitzgerald, Gene Tierney, Cyd Charisse, -Joseph Cotton, Louis Hayward. - -Chaplin was a unique master of ceremonies, urbane, gentle, witty. As -judge of a ballroom dancing contest, Chaplin awarded the prize to -Herbert Hughes, non-dancer and the company’s general manager. - -At the end of this phenomenal engagement, the company bade _au revoir_ -to Los Angeles and the many friends they had made in the film colony, -and entrained for San Francisco for an engagement at that finest of all -American opera houses, the War Memorial. I have an especial fondness for -San Francisco, its atmosphere, its spirit, its people, its food. Yet a -curious fact remains: of all the larger American cities, it is coolest -in its outward reception of all forms of art. Even with Sadler’s Wells, -San Francisco followed its formal pattern. It was the more startling in -contrast with its sister city in the south. The demonstrations there -were such that they had to be cut off in order to permit the -performances to continue and thus end before the small hours; the Los -Angeles audiences seemed determined not to let the company go. By -contrast, the San Francisco audiences were perfunctorily polite in their -applause. I have never been able quite to understand it. - -In the case of the Sadler’s Wells _première_ at the War Memorial Opera -House, San Francisco, the company was enchanted with the building: a -real opera house, a good stage, a place in which to work in comfort. The -opening night audience had been attracted not only by interest in the -company, but as charity contributors to a home for unmarried mothers. -The bulk of the stalls and boxes were socially minded. They arrived -late, from dinners and parties. _The Sleeping Beauty_ must start at the -advertised time because of its length. It cannot wait for late-comers. -There was an unconscionable confusion in the darkened opera house as the -audience rattled down the aisles, chattering, greeting friends, and -shattering the spell of the Prologue, disturbing those who had taken the -trouble to arrive on time as much as they did the artists on the stage. -My concern on this point is as much for the audience as for the dancers. -A ballet, being a work of art, is conceived as an entity, from beginning -to end, from the first notes of the overture, till the last one of the -coda. The whole is the sum of its parts. The noisy and inconsiderate -late-comers, by destroying parts, greatly damage the whole. - -The War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco, although a municipal -property, has a divided executive in that its physical control is in the -hands of the local chapter of the American Legion, which make the rules -and regulations for its operation. I do not know of any theatre with -more locked doors, more red tape and more annoying, hampering -regulations. - -There is, to be sure, a certain positive virtue in the rule that forbids -any unauthorized person to be permitted to pass from the auditorium to -the stage by ways of the pass-door between the two. But, like any rule, -it must be administered with discretion. The keeper of the pass-door at -the War Memorial Opera House is a gentleman known as the “Colonel,” to -whom, I feel, “orders is orders,” without the leavening of either -discretion or plain “horse sense.” - -On the opening night of Sadler’s Wells, a list of names of the persons -authorized to pass had been given to this functionary by checking the -names on the theatre programme. When Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E., D. -Litt., Director of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, attempted to go back stage -after the first act of _The Sleeping Beauty_, she was stopped at the -pass-door by the guardian “Colonel.” - -Very simply she told him, “I am Ninette de Valois.” - -That meant nothing to the “Colonel.” - -“Madame’s” name, he pointed out, was not checked off. It was not even -printed on the “official” staff. In another part of the programme, there -it was in small type. But the “Colonel” was adamant. Horatio at the -bridge could not have been more formidable. He was a composite of St. -Peter at the gate and St. Michael with his flaming sword. - -While all this was going on, I was in the imposing, marble-sheathed -front lobby of the Opera House, in conversation with critics and San -Francisco friends, sharing their enthusiasm, when I suddenly felt my -coat tails being sharply pulled. The first tug I was sure was some -mistake, and I pretended not to notice it. Then my coat tails were -tugged at again, unmistakably yanked. - -“What is it?” I thought. “_Who_ is it?” - -I turned quickly, and found a tense, white-faced “Madame” looking at me, -as she might transfix either a dancer who had fallen on his face, or a -Cabinet Minister with whom she had taken issue. - -“What’s wrong?” I asked. - -“The man,” she said, pointing in the direction of the pass-door, -“wouldn’t let me through.” Crisply she added, “He didn’t know who I was. -This is disgraceful, absolutely disgraceful. Unforgivable, I _must_ -say.” - -She turned quickly on her heel and disappeared. - -I was greatly upset, and immediately took steps to have the oversight -corrected. I was miserable. - -I sent for “Bertie” Hughes, the able general manager of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet company, told him what had happened, explained how -distressed I was over the stupid incident. - -Hughes smiled his quiet smile. - -“Come on, have a drink and forget it,” he said. “‘Madame’ will have -forgotten all about it within five minutes of watching the performance.” - -As we sipped our drink, I was filled with mortification that “Madame,” -of all people, should have run afoul of a too literal interpreter of the -regulations. - -“Look here,” said Hughes, “cheer up, don’t be disturbed.” - -But the evening had been spoiled for me. - -A really splendid party followed, given by H. M. Consul General in honor -of the company, at San Francisco’s Bohemian Club. The Bohemian Club is -one of San Francisco’s genuine landmarks, a famous organization of -artists, writers, professional and business men, whose “High Jinks” and -“Low Jinks” in midsummer are among the cultural highlights of the area. - -Dispirited, I went only from a sense of duty. It turned out to be one of -the fine parties of the entire tour; but I was fatigued, distraught, and -the de Valois contretemps still oppressed me. I helped myself to some -food, and hid away in a corner. I was, to put it bluntly, in a vile -mood. - -Again I felt my coat tails being tugged. “Who is it this time?” I -thought. It was not my favorite manner of being greeted, I decided, -there and then. - -Cautiously I turned. Again it was “Madame.” - -“What’s the trouble?” she asked, now all solicitude. “Why are you hiding -in a corner? You don’t look well. Shouldn’t you see a doctor?” - -“I don’t need a doctor.” - -“Surely, something is wrong with you. You look pale, and it’s not the -very least bit like you to be off sulking in a corner. What’s the -trouble?” - -“The insult to you,” I said. - -I remembered what Hughes had said, when “Madame” replied: “Insult? -Insult?... What insult? Did you insult me?... What on earth _are_ you -talking about?” - -There was no point, I felt, in reminding her of the incident. - -“When you want to speak to me,” I said, “must you pull my coat off my -back?” - -“The next time I shall do it harder,” she said with her very individual -little laugh. “Don’t you think we have been here long enough?... Come -along now, take us home.” - -This is Ninette de Valois. - - * * * * * - -Following the San Francisco engagement, the company turned east to the -Rocky Mountain area, the South and Middle West, to arrive in Chicago for -Christmas. - -The Chicago engagement was but a repetition of every city where the -company appeared: sold-out houses, almost incredible enthusiasm. _The -Sleeping Beauty_ was the opening programme. Because of the magnitude of -the production, it was impossible to present it except in New York, Los -Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, and Boston. Both public and press were -loud in their praises of the company, the production, the music. - -Another delightful piece of hospitality was the party given at the -Racquet Club in Chicago, following the first performance by Ruth Page, -the well-known American dancer and choreographer, and her husband, -Thomas Hart Fisher. Not only was there a wonderful champagne supper in -the Club’s Refectory, at which the members of the company were the first -to be served; but this was followed by a cabaret, the climax of which -came when Margot, in a striking Dior gown of green, stepped down to -essay the intricate steps of a new and unknown (to her) South American -ball-room rhythm. She had never before seen or heard of the dance, but -it was a joy to watch the musicality she brought to it. - -It is not my custom to visit artists in the theatre before a -performance, unless there has been some complaint, some annoyance, some -trouble of some sort, something to straighten out. However, on this -opening night in Chicago, I happened to be back stage in the Opera House -on some errand. Since I was so close, I felt I wanted to wish the -artists good-luck for their first Chicago performance, and, passing, -knocked at Margot’s dressing-room door. - -No reply. - -I waited. - -I knocked again. - -No answer. - -Puzzled, I walked away to return ten minutes later. - -I knocked again. - -Again no answer. - -Worried, I opened the door. - -“Don’t you hear me, Margot?” I asked. - -Without glancing up, there came two words, no more. Two words, bitten -off, crisp and sharp: - -“G-e-t O--u--t!” - -It was utterly unlike her. What had happened? I could not imagine. We -had dined together the night before, together with “Freddy” Ashton, -“Bobby” Helpmann and Moira Shearer. It had been a gay dinner, jolly. -Margot had been her witty, amusing self. She had, I knew, been eagerly -awaiting a letter from Paris, a letter from a particular friend. Perhaps -it had not come. Perhaps it had. Whatever it was, I reasoned, at least -it was not my fault. I was not to blame. - -We met after the performance at the party. I was puzzled. - -“Are you angry at me?” I asked her. - -“I?” She smiled an uncomprehending smile. “Why on earth should I be -angry at you?” - -“You didn’t answer when I knocked at your door several times, and then, -when I spoke, you told me, in no uncertain fashion, to get out.” - -“Don’t you know that, before a performance, I won’t talk to anyone?” she -said sternly. - -Then she kissed me. - -“Don’t take me too seriously,” she smiled, patting me on the shoulder, -“but, remember, I don’t want to see _anyone_ before I go on.” - - -_MARGOT FONTEYN_ - -In Margot Fonteyn we have, in my opinion, the greatest _ballerina_ of -the western world, the greatest _ballerina_ of the world of ballet as we -know it. Born Margaret Hookham, in Surrey, in 1919, the daughter of an -English businessman father and a dark-skinned, dark-haired mother of -Irish and Brazilian ancestry, who is sometimes known as the Black Queen -in the company, a reference to one of the leading characters in -_Checkmate_. Margot was taken to China as a small child, where the -family home was in Shanghai. There was also an interim period when she -was a pupil in a school in such a characteristically American city as -Louisville, Kentucky. - -Margot tells a story to the effect that she was taken as a child to see -a performance by Pavlova, and that she was not particularly impressed. -It would be much better “copy,” infinitely better for publicity -purposes, to have her say that visit changed the whole course of her -life and that, from that moment, she determined not only to be a dancer, -but to become Pavlova’s successor. But Margot Fonteyn is an honest -person. - -Her first dancing lessons came in Shanghai, at the hands of the Russian -dancer and teacher, Goncharov. Back in London, she studied with -Seraphina Astafieva, in the same Chelsea studio that had produced -Markova and Dolin. At the age of fourteen, her mother took her, -apparently not with too much willingness on Margot’s part, up to the -Wells in Islington, to the Sadler’s Wells School. Ninette de Valois is -said to have announced after her first class, in the decisive manner of -“Madame,” a manner which brooks no dissent: “That child has talent.” - -Fonteyn, in the early days, harbored no ideas of becoming a _ballerina_. -Her idealization of that remote peak of accomplishment was Karsavina, -the one-time bright, shining star of the Diaghileff Ballet. All of which -is not to say that Margot did not work hard, did not enjoy dancing. In -class, in rehearsal, in performance, Fonteyn developed her own -individuality, her own personality, without copying or imitating, -consciously or unconsciously, any other artist. - -It was after Markova left Sadler’s Wells to form her own company in -association with Dolin that Fonteyn began to come into her own. Ninette -de Valois had a plan, to which, like all her plans, she adhered. She had -been grooming Fonteyn to take Markova’s place. The fact that she has -done so is a matter of history, record, and fact. This is not the place -for a catalogue of Fonteyn’s roles, or a list of her individual -triumphs. Margot Fonteyn is very much with us, before us, among us, at -the height of her powers. She speaks for herself. I merely want to give -the reader enough background so that he may know the basic elements -which have gone into the making of Margot Fonteyn, _prima ballerina -assoluta_. - -As a dancer, I find her appeal to me is two-fold: first as a pure -classical dancer; second as an actress-dancer, by which I mean a dancer -with a fine ability to characterize. This is important, for it implies -few, if any, limitations. Pavlova, as I have pointed out, was free from -limitations in the same way and, I think, to a similar degree. Anna -Pavlova had a wide variety: she was a superb dramatic dancer in -_Giselle_; she was equally at home in the brittle, glamorous _Fairy -Doll_; as the light-hearted protagonist of the _Rondino_; as the -bright-colored flirt of the Tchaikowsky _Christmas_. Tamara Karsavina -ranged the gamut from _Carnaval_, _Les Sylphides_, and _Pavillon -d’Armide_, on the one hand, to _Schéhérazade_, _Thamar_, and the -Miller’s Wife in _The Three-Cornered Hat_, on the other, doing all with -equal skill and artistry. In the same way, Fonteyn ranges, with equal -perfection from the Princess Aurora of _The Sleeping Beauty_, the title -role of _Cinderella_, and _Mam’zelle Angot_, the Millers wife in _The -Three-Cornered Hat_, the tragic Giselle, Swanilda in _Coppélia_, the -peasant Dulcinia in _Don Quixote_, on the one hand, to the pure, -abstract dancing appeal of her lyrical roles in ballets such as -_Symphonic Variations_, _Scènes de Ballet_, _Ballet Imperial_, and -_Dante Sonata_, on the other. - -As a dancer, Fonteyn is freer of mannerisms than any other _ballerina_ I -have known, devoid of tricks and those stunts sometimes called -“showmanship” that are so often mere vulgar lapses from taste. About -everything she does there is a strange combination of purity of style -with a striking individuality that I can only identify and explain by -that overworked term, “personality.” She has a superb carriage, the taut -back of the perfect dancer, the faultless line and the ankles of the -true _ballerina_. Over all is a great suppleness: the sort of suppleness -that can make even an unexpected fall a thing of beauty. For -_ballerinas_ sometimes fall, even as ordinary mortals. One such fall -occurred on Fonteyn’s first entrance in the nation’s capital, before a -gala audience at the Washington _première_ of Sadler’s Wells, with an -audience that included President Truman, Sir Oliver Franks, and the -entire diplomatic corps. - -The cramped, ill-suited platform of Constitution Hall, was an -inadequate, makeshift excuse for a stage. As Fonteyn entered to the -resounding applause of thousands, she slipped on a loose board and fell, -but gracefully and with such beauty that those in the audience who did -not know might easily have thought it was a part of the choreographer’s -design. - -On the company’s return to London, at the close of the tour, the entire -personnel were the guests at a formal dinner tendered to them by H. M. -Government. The late Sir Stafford Cripps, then Chancellor of the -Exchequer, gave the first toast to Fonteyn. Turning to her, Sir -Stafford, in proposing the toast, said: “My dear lady, it has been -brought to my attention that, in making your first entry into the -American capital, you fell flat on your face.” - -The Chancellor paused for an instant as he eyed her in mock severity, -then added: “I beg you not to take it too much to heart. It is not the -first time, nor, I feel sure, will it be the last, when your countrymen -will be obliged to assume that same prostrate position on entering that -city.” - -To sum up my impressions of Fonteyn, the dancer, I should be - -[Illustration: - -_Angus McBean_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Frederick Ashton, Ninette de Valois, Leonide -Massine] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Beryl Grey as the Princess -Aurora] - -[Illustration: _Baron_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Nadia Nerina in _Façade_] - -[Illustration: Roland Petit - -_Germaine Kanova_] - -[Illustration: - - _Roger Wood_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Margot Fonteyn and Alexander Grant in -_Tiresias_] - -[Illustration: - -_Magnum_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: John Field and Violetta Elvin] - -[Illustration: - - _Baron_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: _Le Lac des Cygnes_--John Field and Beryl Grey] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Last Act of _Le Lac des Cygnes_ - - _Baron_ -] - -[Illustration: - -_Magnum_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: _Giselle_--Robert Helpmann and Margot Fonteyn] - -[Illustration: - -_Baron_ - -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: Elaine Fifield as Swanilda in _Coppélia_] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: David Blair and Svetlana -Beriosova in _Coppélia_ - -_Roger Wood_ -] - -[Illustration: - -_Baron_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: _A Wedding Bouquet_] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Act I. _The Sleeping Beauty_--The -Princess falls beneath the spell of Carabosse - -_Baron_ -] - -[Illustration: Agnes de Mille] - -[Illustration: John Lanchbery, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet - - _Denis de Marney_ -] - -[Illustration: John Hollingsworth, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Ballet - -_Maurice Seymour_ -] - -[Illustration: Robert Irving, Musical Director, Sadler’s Wells Ballet - - _Baron_ -] - -[Illustration: The Sadler’s Wells production of _The Sleeping Beauty_: -Puss-in-Boots] - -[Illustration: Robert Helpmann as the Rake in _The Rake’s Progress_ - -_Baron_ -] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Rowena Jackson as Odile in _Le Lac -des Cygnes_ - - _Derek Allen_ -] - -[Illustration: Colette Marchand - -_Lido_] - -[Illustration: - - _Baron_ - -Moira Shearer] - -[Illustration: Moira Shearer and Daughter - -_Central Press Photo_ -] - -[Illustration: - -_Baron_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: _Symphonic Variations_--Moira Shearer, Margot -Fonteyn, Michael Somes, Pamela May - -_Baron_ -] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: America is closer: loading at Port -of London] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Scenery and costumes start the -trek for America - - _Acme-PA_ -] - -[Illustration: _Gyenes_ - -Antonio Spanish Ballet: Antonio] - -[Illustration: Antonio Spanish Ballet: _Serenada_ - -_Gyenes_] - -doing her something less than justice if I failed to call attention to a -supreme quality in her work, viz., that quality of implied ease in all -she does, bringing unstrained pleasure to the onlooker; coupled as it is -with a spiritual quality with which her performances seem to shimmer. -All these things, so far as I am concerned, add up to a _ballerina_ -absolutely unique in my experience. - -Margot Fonteyn is, to me, the true artist, because a great dancer must -be a human being before she is an artist; her art must, in the last -resort, be the expression of her personal attitude to life. She is -many-sided; and the wonder is that she is able to have this breadth of -cultural outlook when so much of her time has had to be spent in -acquiring technique, dealing with its problems and the means of -expression. - -No amount of technique, no amount of technical brilliance or recondite -knowledge will hide the paucity of emotion or intellect in an artist’s -make-up. Technique, after all, is no more than the alphabet and the -words of an art, and it is only the difficulty of acquiring a -superlative technique that has led so many astray. But along what a -fatal path they have been led! How often are we told that the true -artist must devote her whole energies to her art, without the -realization that art is the highest expression of mankind and has value -only in so far as it is enriched with the blood of life. - -As for Fonteyn, the person, whom I love and admire, I have no gossip to -offer, few anecdotes, no whisperings. About her there is not the -slightest trace of pose, pretentiousness, or pettiness. While she is -conscious she is a great _ballerina_, one of the top-ranking artists in -any art in the world today, she is equally conscious she is a human -being. Basically, she is shy and quite humble. Splendidly poised, -immaculately and impeccably groomed, chic in an international rather -than in a Parisian sense, she is definitely an elegant person. The -elegance of her private appearance she carries over into her appearance -as a _ballerina_. Anna Pavlova, of all other dancers I have known, had -this same quality. - -Usually Margot dresses in colors that are on the dark side, like her own -personal coloring. Small-featured, small-boned, her clothes, exquisite -in cut, are strikingly simple. She is not given to jewelry, save for -earrings without which I cannot remember ever having seen her. She is -remarkably beautiful, but not in the G.I. pin-up type sense. Again there -is the similarity to Anna Pavlova, who would look elegant and _chic_ -today in any _salon_ or drawing-room, because her elegance was -timeless. By all this, I do not mean to suggest that Fonteyn’s Christian -Dior evening frocks and day dresses are not modish, but nothing she -wears suggests the “latest word.” - -One more word about her actions. I have mentioned her complete lack of -pretentiousness. I should like to emphasize her equal lack of apparent -awareness of her exalted position in her chosen calling. With the -company, she makes no demands, puts on no airs. There is no false -grandeur and none of the so-called “temperament” that many lesser -_ballerinas_ feel called upon to display upon the slightest provocation, -and often upon no provocation at all. She is one who submits to the -discipline of a great and continuous and uninterrupted and secure -company. Fonteyn works as hard, with daily classes and rehearsals, -mayhap harder, as any other of the large personnel. Her relations with -the company are on the same plane. When the company travels in buses, -Margot piles into the buses with them, joins in with the company at all -times, is a member of it and an inspiration to it. The company, -individually and collectively, love her and have the highest respect for -her. - -Margot’s warning to me not to try to disturb her before a performance -had nothing to do with pose or “temperament.” It is simply that in order -to live up to her reputation she has a duty, exactly as she has a duty -to the role she is to enact, and because of these things, she has the -artist’s natural nervousness increased before the rise of the curtain. -She must be alone and silent with her thoughts in order to have herself -under complete control and be at her best. - -In all ballet I have never known a finer colleague, or one possessed of -a greater amount of genuine good-heartedness. The examples of this sort -of thing are endless, but one incident pointing it up stands out in my -mind. - -A certain American _ballerina_ was on a visit to London. Margot invited -this American girl to go to Paris with her. “Freddy” Ashton was also -coming along, she said, and it would be fun. - -“I can’t go,” replied the American _ballerina_. “I’ve nothing to wear -that’s fit to be seen in Paris.” - -“Come, come, don’t be silly,” replied Margot. “Here, take this suit of -mine. I’ve never worn it.” - -And she handed over a new Christian Dior creation. - -Now Margot at that time was by no means too blessed with the world’s -goods, and could not afford a new Dior outfit too often. - -On their arrival in Paris, the group telephoned me at the Meurice and -came to see me. Turning to the American _ballerina_, a long-time friend -of mine, I could not help admiring her appearance. - -“Where _did_ you get that beautiful suit?” I enquired. - -“Margot gave it to me, isn’t she sweet?” she replied, quite simply. - -This is Margot Fonteyn: always ready to share with others; always -thinking of others, least of all, of herself. - -The following incident sums up the Margot Fonteyn I know and love. On -the final night of the second American tour, after the last performance, -I gave a farewell supper for the entire company at the Chateau -Frontenac, in Quebec City. There were speeches, of which more later. -When they were over, a _corps de ballet_ member spontaneously rose to -propose a toast to Margot Fonteyn, on her great personal triumph in -North America. The rounds of applause that followed the toast reminded -me of the opening night at the Metropolitan in New York. That applause -had come from an audience of paying customers, who had just witnessed a -new dancer scoring a triumph in an exciting performance. The applause -that went on for minutes and minutes, came from her own colleagues, many -of whom had grown up with her from the School. My eyes were moist. After -a long time, Fonteyn rose to thank them. In doing so, she reminded them -that a _ballerina_ was only as good as her surroundings and that it was -impossible for a _ballerina_ to exist without the perfect setting, which -they provided. - -Here was a great artist, the greatest living _ballerina_ we of the -western world know, with all her triumphs, all her successes about her, -at the apex of her career; very much of the present, here was the true -artist, the loyal comrade, the humble, grateful human being. - -From Chicago, a long journey to Winnipeg for a four-day engagement to be -filled at the request of the British Council and David Webster, -following a suggestion from H. M. the King. Winnipeg had suffered -shocking damage from floods, and His Majesty had promised Winnipeg a -visit from the Ballet while it was in America as a gala to lift the -spirits of the people. - -Here the company had its first taste of real cold, for the thermometer -dropped to thirty-two degrees below zero. The result was that when it -came time to entrain for the journey half-way across the continent to -Boston, the next point on the itinerary, the baggage car doors were so -frozen that they had to be opened with blowtorches and charges of -explosives. - -It was a four-day and three-night journey from Winnipeg to Boston, in -sub-zero, stormy weather. The intense cold slowed the locomotives and -froze the storage batteries, with the result that save for the -lounge-bar car, the cars were in complete darkness and were dimly -lighted at bed-time by a few spluttering candles. The severe cold had -also caused the steam lines in the train to freeze, so that the -temperature inside the cars was such that all made the journey wrapped -in overcoats and blankets, wearing the heterogeneous collection of -ear-lapped caps which they had purchased, even to North-west Canadian -wool and fur shakos that blossomed in Winnipeg. Somewhere east of -Chicago the “Sadler’s Wells Special” got itself behind the wreck of a -freight train which had blocked the tracks, necessitating a long detour -over the tracks of another railway, causing still further delays. Nine -hours late, the ice-covered train bearing a company that had gone -through the most gruelling train adventure of the tour, limped into -Boston’s South Station. - -There followed a tense period, for the minimum time required to set and -light _The Sleeping Beauty_ is twelve hours. It was another case of -“touch and go.” Two hours were required to get the train broken up and -all the scenery cars placed for unloading; then the procession of great -trucks from the cars to the Opera House commenced; there followed the -unloading, the taking-in, the hanging, the setting, the installation of -all the heavy and complicated lighting equipment, for the theatres of -America, for the most part, are either poorly equipped or not at all, -and the Boston Opera House is in the latter category. Hundreds of -costumes had to be unpacked, pressed, and distributed. But such is the -efficiency of the Sadler’s Wells organization, its general stage -director, the late Louis Yudkin, and our own American staff, together -with the valued assistance of the Boston local manager, Aaron Richmond, -that the curtain rose at the appointed minute. - -I had gone to Boston for the duration of the engagement there. Bearing -in mind the extensive travelling the company had had, climaxed by the -harrowing journey from Winnipeg, I was concerned about their fatigue and -also how it might affect the quality of the performance. My memory of -the Boston _première_ of _The Sleeping Beauty_ is that it was one of the -very best I had seen anywhere. Sir Oliver Franks, the British -Ambassador, and Lady Franks, together with Lord Wakehurst, head of the -English-Speaking Union, one of the Governors of the Covent Garden Opera -Trust, and now Governor-General of Northern Ireland, came to Boston for -the opening, and greeted the company at a delightful supper and -reception following the performance. Lord Wakehurst has been a veritable -tower of strength in the development of international cultural relations -during the Sadler’s Wells tours; together with Lady Wakehurst, he is a -charming host whose hospitality I have enjoyed in their London home. - -The interest of Sir Oliver Franks, Lord Wakehurst, and the British -Council as evidenced throughout the entire tour, together with the -splendid cooperation of the English-Speaking Union, all helped in one of -the main reasons for the tour, quite apart from any dollars the company -might be able to garner. That was the extension of cultural relations -between the two great English-speaking nations. - -Cultural relations are basically a matter of links between individuals -rather than links between governments, and such a tour as Sadler’s Wells -made, bringing the richness of British ballet to hundreds of thousands -of individuals, helps develop those private relationships; and the sum -of them presents a comprehensive picture of Britain to the world. In our -struggle for peace in the world, nothing is more essential than cultural -understanding. It should be pointed out that the British Council does -not send overseas companies primarily for financial gain, and its policy -in these matters is not dictated by financial considerations. - -The charter of UNESCO states that since wars begin in the minds of men, -it is in the minds of men that the defenses of peace must be -constructed. Personally, I am inclined to doubt if wars ever begin in -the minds of men, but I should be the last to dispute that it is in the -minds of men that the defenses of peace must be constructed. - -It was on the 28th January, 1951, that the greatest ballet tour in North -American history came to an end in Quebec City. It was a night of mixed -feelings. The company was, of course, eager to get home to London, and -also had a longing to continue here. There were the tugs of parting on -the part of our American staff. Our American Sadler’s Wells Orchestra, -forty-odd strong, the largest orchestra to tour with a ballet company in -America, adored the company and the curtain had to be held on the last -ballet on the programme, for the entire orchestra lined up to collect -autographed photographs of their favorites, and refused to heed the -orchestra personnel manager’s frantic pleas to enter the pit before each -musician had his treasured picture. It was quite unusual, I assure you, -for musicians are not noted for their interest in a _ballerina_. A -sentimental, romantic interest between a musician and a dancer is -something quite different, and is not at all unusual. - -Although it was Sunday night, when the “blue laws” of Quebec frown upon -music, gaiety, and alcohol, we managed, nevertheless, to have a genuine -farewell celebration, which took the form of an after-performance dinner -at the Chateau Frontenac. The company got into their evening-clothes for -the last time on this side of the Atlantic, piled into buses at the -theatre and returned to the hotel, while the “Sadler’s Wells Special” -that was to take them back to Montreal, waited at the station. It waited -a long time, for the night’s celebration at the Chateau lasted until -four-thirty in the morning. It was a festive affair, with as fine a -dinner as could be prepared, and the wines and champagne were both -excellent and ample. We had set up a pre-dinner cocktail room in one of -the Chateau’s private rooms, and had taken the main restaurant, the -great hall of the Chateau, for the dinner. Before the dancing -commenced--yes, despite the long tour, despite the two days the company -had spent skiing and tobogganing in Quebec, with three performances in -an inadequate theatre, they danced--the dessert was served. I should -like to list the entire menu, but the dessert will give an indication of -its nature. The lights in the great dining room were extinguished, the -orchestra struck a chord, and a long line of waiters entered each -bearing flaming platters of _Omelette Norvegienne Flambée des -Mignardires_. - -The guests included the Premier of Quebec and officials of the Quebec -Government. The only note that dimmed the gaiety of the occasion was the -absence of Dame Ninette de Valois and David Webster, both in London -preparing for the new season. It was not an occasion for long speeches; -our hearts and our stomachs were too full. However, I expressed my -sincere thanks to the entire organization and, in the absence of -“Madame” and Webster, Herbert Hughes, the general manager of the Ballet, -replied, and announced to the company the figures for the tour, amidst -cheers. Then followed the touching incident of the toast to Fonteyn I -have mentioned. - -Before the dancing began, a sudden mania for autographs started, with -everybody collecting every other person’s autograph on the large, -specially printed menus, which I had previously autographed. Apparently -all wanted a menu as a souvenir of a venture that had gone down in the -annals of ballet and entertainment as the greatest success of all time. - -From then on the dancing was general, the gaiety waxed higher. I was -doing a _schottische_ with the two-hundred-fifty pound Cockney Chief -Carpenter, Horace Fox, when one of my staff who was responsible for -transportation slid up to the orchestra leader and whispered “The King!” -We all stood silently at attention for the last time. It was well past -four in the morning, and it was to be yet another case of “touch and go” -if the “Sadler’s Wells Special” could make Montreal in time for the -departure of the special BOAC planes which were to take the company back -to London. - -The company changed into traveling clothes as quickly as possible, and -buses slithered down the steep slopes of Quebec to the Station, where -harried railroad officials were holding the train. There was yet another -delay for one person who was left behind on urgent business, finally to -be seen coming, with two porters carrying his open bags and yet another -bellboy with unpacked clothes and toilet articles. As the last of the -retinue was pushed aboard, the train started. But it was long before -sleep came, and for another two hours the party continued up and down -the length of the train, in compartments, bedrooms, washrooms, as staff, -orchestra, stage-hands broke all unwritten laws of fraternization. - -All were asleep, however, when the train swayed violently and with -groaning and bumping came to a sudden stop. It was the last journey and -it, of course, simply had to happen. The flanges on the wheels of two of -the baggage cars that had made the 21,000-mile journey gave way just as -the train started the long crossing of the Three Rivers Bridge between -Quebec and Montreal. Fortunately, we were moving slowly at the approach -to the bridge, slowing down for the crossing, or else--I shudder to -think what might have occurred if we had been trying to make up -time--the greatest tour of history would have ended in a ghastly -tragedy. - -As a result of the derailment taking place on the bridge, we were hours -late arriving in Montreal. But the tour was over! - -Here was a tour where every record of every sort had been broken. It had -reached the point where, if there was a pair of unoccupied seats in any -auditorium from coast to coast and back again, we were all likely to -feel as if the end of the world was at hand. I have mentioned the -mundane matter of the financial returns. From a critical point of view, -I cannot attempt to summarize the spate of eulogy that greeted the -company in every city. Cynics may have something to say about this, to -the effect that the critics had been overpowered by size and glamor. -But a careful consideration of it all, a sober analysis, disproves any -suggestion that this was the result of any uncritical rush of blood to -the head. On the contrary, it reveals that the critical faculty was -carefully exercised and that the collective testimony to the excellence -of Sadler’s Wells was based on sound appreciation. - -It is impossible for me to bring to a close this phase of the concise -history of the association in ballet of which I am the proudest in my -life without sketching an outline of the quartet that makes Sadler’s -Wells the great institution it is, together with a few of the -outstanding personalities that give it color and are such an important -part of it. - -The list is long, and lack of space limits my consideration to a few. -First of all, let me pay tribute to that directorial triumvirate to -whom, collectively and individually, Sadler’s Wells owes its existence -and its superior place in the world of ballet in our time: Ninette de -Valois, Frederick Ashton, and Constant Lambert. Lamentably, the -triumvirate is now a duo, owing to the recent untimely passing of the -third member. - - -_NINETTE DE VALOIS_ - -I have more than once indicated my own deep admiration for Ninette de -Valois and have sketched, as best I can, her tremendous contribution. In -all my experience of artists, I have never known a harder worker, a more -single-purposed practical idealist, a more concentrated and devoted -human being. In addition to being the chief executive of Sadler’s Wells, -burdened with the responsibility for two ballet companies and a school, -she is a striking creator. - -Living with her husband-physician down in Surrey, she does her marketing -before she leaves home in the morning for the Garden; travels up on the -suburban train; spends long hours at her work; goes back to Surrey, -often late at night, sometimes to prepare dinner, since the servant -problem in Britain is acute; and has been known to tidy up her husband’s -surgery for the next morning, before herself calling it a day. All this, -day in and day out, is done with zest and vigor. - -An idealist she is and yet, at the same time, completely realistic. -Without wishing to cast the remotest reflection on the feminine sex, I -would say that Ninette de Valois has a masculine mind in her approach to -problems artistic or business, and to life itself. She feels things -passionately, and these qualities are apparent in everything she does. -When her mind is made up, there is no budging her. In a less intelligent -person this might be labelled stubbornness. - -Like the majority of English dancers, prior to her establishment of a -British national ballet, she was brought up in the traditions of Russian -ballet. But it should be remembered that she was the first one to break -up the foundation of the Russian tradition, utilizing its richness to -create an English national school. At Sadler’s Wells, in collaboration -with Constant Lambert, she has devoted a great deal of attention to the -music of our time, although this has never taken the form of any denial -or repudiation of the tradition of the old Russian school--on the -contrary, her work at Sadler’s Wells has been a continuation and -development of that school, using the new to enrich the old. - -As a person with whom to work, I find her completely fascinating. I have -never known any one even faintly like her. Her magnificent sense of -organization is but one aspect of what I have called her “masculinity” -of mind. Figures as well as _fouettés_ are a part of her life. She is -adept at handling both situations and individuals. Her dancers obey the -slightest lifting of her eyebrows, for she is a masterful person, -although quite impersonal in her mastery. She possesses the art of the -single withering sentence. Her superb organizing ability has enabled her -to surround herself with a highly able staff; but the sycophantic -“yes-man” is something for which she has no time. Hers is a -rapid-working mind, often being several leaps ahead of all others in a -conference. Sincere, honest criticism she welcomes; anything other, she -detests. I remember an occasion when a certain critic made a comment -based on nothing more than personal bias and a twisted, highly personal -approach. Her response was acid, biting, withering, and I was glad I was -not on the receiving end. - -I am sure that Ninette de Valois was convinced of her mission early in -her career. That mission--to found a truly national British ballet--she -has richly fulfilled. Much of the work involved in this fulfilment has -been the exercise of great organizing and executive ability: in the -formulation of policy and plans as well as carrying them out; in the -employment of a large number of talented and efficient people; in -determining the scale on which the venture should be conducted. - -I have spoken of “Madame’s” ability to handle people. This has earned -her, in some quarters, an undeserved reputation for being a forbidding -and austere person. The fact that she is, as she must be, a strict -disciplinarian with her company, does not mean that she cannot be a -genuinely gay and amusing person. In certain respects, despite her Irish -birth as Edris Stannus, she is a veritable English lady, in the best -sense of the term, with an English lady’s virtues (and they are -numerous). These virtues include, among others, a very definite, -forceful, but quiet efficiency; more than average common sense; a -passion for being fair; the inbred necessity for being economical. -Against all this is set that quality of idealism that turned a dancing -school into a great national ballet. Idealism dreamed it, practicality -brought it to fruition. - -In those far-off days before the second world war, when I used to visit -the ballet in Russia, it was one of my delights to go to the classes of -the late Agrippina Vaganova, one of the greatest of ballet teachers of -all time, and to watch this wise and highly talented ballet-mistress at -work. - -I noted that it was Vaganova’s invariable custom to open her classes -with a two or three minute talk, in which she would compliment the -company, and individuals in particular, on their work in the ballet -performance the night before, closing with: - -“I am proud of you. Thank you very much.” - -Then they would go to work in the class, subjected to the strictest -discipline, and, sometimes, to the sharpest and most caustic sort of -criticism imaginable. Then, at the end of the class, again came -individual approbation and encouragement. - -This is the sort of little thing I have never observed at Sadler’s -Wells. It may, of course, be there; and again, it may not. - -The Sadler’s Wells personnel love “Madame”; regard it as a high -privilege to be a part of the Wells organization; do not look on their -association merely as a “job.” - -It might be that “Madame” could advantageously employ Vaganova’s method -in this regard, use her example in her own relations with her company. -Certainly, it could do no harm, as I see it. It may well be that she -does. The point is that I have never seen it in practice. - -In the better part of a lifetime spent in the midst of the dance, I can -remember no one with a greater devotion to ballet, or one willing to -make more sacrifices for it, and for the spreading of its gospel. - -Let me cite just one example of this devotion. It was during the second -North American tour of the Sadler’s Wells company that, despite all the -demands made upon her time and energy, she was impelled to undertake a -long lecture tour of Canada and the Northwest to spread the gospel of -ballet and the British Council. - -Herbert Hughes, the general manager, came to me to point out that since -“Madame” had to do this, he felt we should send some one to accompany -her, because she was unfamiliar with the country, and with the train and -air schedules. - -I fully concurred, in view of all he had said, and the possibility of -inclement weather at that time of the year. - -Together we approached “Madame” with the idea. It did not meet with her -approval. It was quite unnecessary. She was quite able to take care of -herself. She did not want any one “making a fuss” over her. - -Of course, she would require funds for her expenses. Hughes prevailed -upon her to accept $300 as petty cash. “Madame” stuffed the money into -her capacious reticule. - -When “Madame” rejoined the company, she brought back $137 of the $300. -“This is the balance,” she said to Hughes, “I didn’t spend it.” - -This entire lecture tour, in which she covered thousands of miles, was -but another example of her tirelessness and Ninette de Valois’ -single-track mind. - -She was due to rejoin the company at the Ambassador Hotel, in Los -Angeles, on the morning of the Los Angeles _première_ of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet, at which time we had arranged a large breakfast -press-conference, over which “Madame” was to preside. - -“Madame” was due by airplane from Vancouver early the previous evening. -Hughes suggested that he should go to the airport to greet her, or that -some one should be sent; but I vetoed the idea, remembering that -“Madame” did not want a “fuss” made over her. Although the plane was due -round about nine o’clock in the evening, midnight had produced no -“Madame.” A telephonic check with the Terminal assured us the plane had -arrived safely and on time. Hughes and I sat up until three-thirty in -the morning waiting, but in vain. - -I was greatly disturbed and exercised when, at nine the next morning, -she had not put in an appearance. The press-conference was set for ten -o’clock, and “Madame” was its most important feature. Moreover, I was -concerned for her safety. - -A few minutes before the start of the breakfast conference, unperturbed, -unruffled, neat and calm as always, “Madame” entered the Ambassador -foyer with her customary spirit and swift, sure gait. - -We gathered round her. What had happened? Was she all right? Had -anything gone wrong? - -“Don’t be silly. What _could_ go wrong?” - -But what had happened? We pressed for an explanation. - -“The strangest thing, my dears,” she said. “When I arrived last night, I -looked in my bag for the piece of paper on which I had noted the name of -this hotel. I couldn’t find it; nor could I, for the life of me, -remember it.” - -“What did you do?” - -“Do? I went to sleep at the airport.” - -“And--?” - -“And this morning I said to myself, ‘Come, pull yourself together.’ I -tried an old law of association of ideas. I managed to remember -the name of this hotel had something to do with diplomacy. -‘Diplomacy--Diplomacy,’ I said to myself.... ‘Embassy?... No, that’s not -it.’ I tried again.... ‘Ambassador?’ ... There, you have it. And here I -am.... Let us go, or we shall be late. Where is this press conference?” - -That is Ninette de Valois. - -Ninette de Valois’ work as a choreographer speaks for itself. Her -approach to any work is always professional, always intellectual, never -amateur, never sentimental. Some of her works may be more successful -than others, whether they are academic or highly original, but each -bears the imprint of one of the most distinctive, able, and agile minds -in the history of ballet. - -So far as I have been able to observe, Ninette de Valois _is_ Sadler’s -Wells. Sadler’s Wells _is_ the national ballet of Britain. In looking -objectively at the organization, with its two fine companies, its -splendid school, I pray that Ninette de Valois may long be spared, for, -with all its splendid organization, Sadler’s Wells and British national -ballet are synonyms, and unless the dear lady has someone up her sleeve, -I cannot, for the life of me, see a successor in the offing. - - -_FREDERICK ASHTON_ - -Frederick Ashton, the chief choreographer of the company, is the -complete antithesis of his colleague. Where de Valois is realistic, -“Freddy” is sentimental. Where “Madame” may sometimes be rigid, Ashton -is adaptable. Some of his work is “slick” and smooth. He is a romantic, -but by that I do not necessarily mean a “neo-romantic.” - -Ashton was born in Ecuador, in 1909, which does not make him Ecuadorian, -any more than the fact that he spent his childhood in Peru, makes him -Peruvian. His British parents happened to be living there at the time. -It is said that his interest in dance was first aroused upon seeing Anna -Pavlova dance in far-off Peru. - -Moving to London with his parents, “Freddy” had the privilege of being -exposed to performances of the Diaghileff Company, and he had his first -ballet lessons from Leonide Massine. Massine turned him over to Marie -Rambert when he left London. It was for Rambert that he staged his first -work, _The Tragedy of Fashion_, for the Nigel Playfair revue, -_Hammersmith Nights_, in 1926. An interim in Paris with Ida Rubenstein, -Nijinska, and Massine, was followed by a long time with Marie Rambert -and her Ballet Club. The Paris interlude with Nijinska and Massine -affected him profoundly. He was a moving figure in the life of the -Camargo Society, and in 1935 he joined the Vic-Wells (later to be known -as the Sadler’s Wells Ballet), as resident choreographer. - -During the years between, Ashton has become England’s great creator. He -is also a character dancer of wide variety, as witness his Carabosse in -_The Sleeping Beauty_, his shy and wistful Ugly Sister in _Cinderella_. -His contribution to ballet in England is tremendous. Nigh on to a dozen -ballets for the Ballet Rambert; something between twenty-five and thirty -for the Sadler’s Wells organization; _Devil’s Holiday_ for the Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo, a work which, because of the outbreak of the war, -he was unable to complete, and which was never seen in this country with -its creator’s full intentions; two works in New York for the New York -City Ballet; and the original production of the Gertrude Stein-Virgil -Thomson _Four Saints in Three Acts_, in New York. - -It is interesting to note the wide variety of his creative work by -listing some of his many works, which, in addition to those mentioned -above, include, among others, the following: For the Ballet Club of -Marie Rambert: _Les Petits Riens_, _Leda and the Swan_, _Capriol Suite_, -_The Lady of Shalott_, _La Peri_, _Foyer de Danse_, _Les Masques_, -_Mephisto Valse_, and several others. - -For that founding society of contemporary British ballet, which I have -mentioned before, the Camargo Society: _Pomona_, _Façade_, _The Lord of -Burleigh_, _Rio Grande_ (originally known as _A Day In a Southern -Port_), and other works. - -I have already mentioned some of his outstanding works for the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet. Others include _Nocturne_, to Delius’s _Paris_; -_Apparitions_, to a Liszt-Lambert score; _Les Rendez-vous_, to a -Constant Lambert score based on melodies by Auber, seen in America in -the repertoire of the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet; the delicious _A -Wedding Bouquet_, to an original score by Lord Berners and a Gertrude -Stein text; _Les Patineurs_, to melodies by Meyerbeer; Constant -Lambert’s _Horoscope_; _Dante Sonata_, to Liszt works arranged by -Lambert; _The Wise Virgins_, to Bach arranged by Sir William Walton; -_The Wanderer_, to Schubert; Walton’s _The Quest_; _Les Sirènes_, by -Lord Berners; the César Franck _Symphonic Variations_; the Coronation -ballet of 1953--_Homage to the Queen_; and, in a sense, most -importantly, the full length _Cinderella_, utilizing the Prokofieff -score; and the full length production of Delibes’ _Sylvia_. - -Actually, I like to think of Ashton as a dance-composer, moving freely -with dramatic or symbolic characters. - -In all my experience of ballet and of choreographers, I do not believe -there is any one more conscientious, more hard-working, more painstaking -at rehearsals. While his eye misses nothing, he never raises his voice, -never loses his temper. Corrections are made firmly, but quietly, almost -in seeming confidence. Always he has a good word for something well -done. On occasion, I have noticed something to be adjusted and have -mentioned it to him. - -“Yes, yes, I know,” he would say. - -“Aren’t you going to tell them?” - -“You tell them,” Ashton would smile. “I can’t tell them. Go on, you tell -them.” - -This was in connection with a musical matter. The conductor in question -was taking a portion of the work at a too rapid tempo. It involved -“Freddy” telling the conductor the passage was being played too fast. - -“No,” repeated “Freddy,” “it will work out. He will see it and feel it -for himself. I don’t want to upset him.” - -An extraordinarily conscientious worker, he is equally self-deprecating. -Some of this self-deprecation can be found in his work, for there is -almost always a high degree of subtlety about all of it. Among all the -choreographers I know, there is none his superior or his equal in -designing sheer poetry of movement. Ashton is able, in my opinion, to -bring to ballet some of that quality of enchantment that, in the old -days, we found only with the Russians. - -This self-deprecating quality of “Freddy’s” is at its strongest on -opening nights of his works. It is very real and sincere. - -“Everything I do is always a flop here in England, you know,” he will -say. “They don’t like me.... I’ve done the best I can.... There you -are.” - -Despite this self-deprecation, Ashton, once his imagination is stirred, -his inspiration stimulated, throws off a certain indolence that is one -of his characteristics, knows exactly what he wants, how to get it, and -goes about it. Like all creative artists, during the actual period of -creation, he can be alternately confident and despairing, determined and -resigned. Despite the reluctance to exercise his authority, he can, if -occasion demands, put his foot down firmly, and does. - -Yet, in doing so, I am certain that never in his life has he hurt any -one, for “Freddy” Ashton is essentially a kind person. - -Three British _ballerinas_ owe Ashton an immense debt: Margot Fonteyn, -Moira Shearer, and Alicia Markova. It is due in large measure to -Ashton’s tuition, his help, his sound advice, and his plastic sense that -these fine artists have matured. - -Every choreographer worthy of the name stamps his works with his own -personality. Ashton’s signature is always apparent in his work. No -matter how characteristic of him his works may be choreographically, -they are equally dissimilar and varied in mood. - -One of my great pleasures is to watch him at rehearsal, giving, giving, -giving of himself to dancers. Before the curtain rises, that final -expectant moment before the screen between dancer and audience is -withdrawn, Ashton is always on the stage, moving from dancer to dancer: -“Cheer up”.... “Back straight, duckie”.... “Present yourself”.... “Chin -up, always chin up, darling.” ... - -Personally, “Freddy” is an unending delight. Shy, shy, always shy, shy -like the shy sister he plays in _Cinderella_, he is always the good -colleague, evincing the same painstaking interest in the ballets of -others as he does in his own, something which I assure the reader is -rare. I have yet to see “Freddy” ruffled, yet to see him outwardly -upset. In his personal appearance he is always neat, carefully dressed. -Even in the midst of hectic dress-rehearsals and their attendant -excitements and alarums, I have never seen him anything but cool, neat, -and well-groomed. There is never a fantastic “rehearsal costume” with -“Freddy.” - -The picture of “Freddy” that is uppermost in my mind is of him standing -in the “Crush Bar” at Covent Garden, relaxed, at ease, listening more -than talking, laughing in his self-deprecatory way, always alert, always -amusing. - -Ashton lives in London in a house in a little street quaintly called -Yeoman’s Row, on the edge of Knightsbridge and Kensington. Here he often -does his own cooking and here he works out his ideas. It is a tiny -house, the work-center being a second-floor study, crowded with -gramophone records, books, photographs and statuettes, all of which -nearly obscure the red wall-paper. The statuettes are three in number: -Anna Pavlova, Fanny Ellsler, and Marie Taglioni. The photographs range -from good Queen Alexandra, through bull-fighters, to dancers. - -The Sadler’s Wells hierarchy seems to travel in groups. One such group -that seemed inseparable included Ashton, “Bobby” Helpmann, Margot -Fonteyn, and Pamela May. Occasionally Constant Lambert would join in, to -eat, to drink, to have fun. For “Freddy” is by no means averse to the -good things of life. - -“Freddy” Ashton is another of those figures of the dance who should -never regard the calendar as a measure for determining his age. I -believe the youthful spirit of Ashton is such that he will live to be a -hundred-and-fifty; that, in 2075, he will be the last survivor of the -founding of Sadler’s Wells, and will then be the recipient of a grand -gala benefit at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, where, that night, -he will share the Royal Box with the then reigning monarch. - - -_CONSTANT LAMBERT_ - -It is difficult for me to write without emotion of the third of the -trio, Constant Lambert, whose loss is deeply mourned by all who knew -him, and by many who did not. - -A picturesque figure, Lambert was a great conductor, a great musician, a -composer of superior talents, a critic of perception, a writer of -brilliance and incisiveness, a life-long student of the ballet. -Lambert’s contribution to the making of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet has, I -suspect, been given less credit than it deserves. I have said that, in -my three decades-and-more of ballet management, I have never known a -ballet company with such high musical standards. These standards were -imposed by Constant Lambert. Not only did he compose ballets for the -company, but when music of other composers was used, it was Lambert who -provided the strikingly brilliant orchestral arrangements--witness, as a -few examples: _Les Patineurs_, _Dante Sonata_, _The Faery Queen_, -_Comus_, _Apparitions_, _Les Rendez-vous_, _Balabile_, in which he made -alive for ballet purposes the assorted music of Meyerbeer, Liszt, -Purcell, Auber, Chabrier, respectively. - -Born in London, in 1905, the son of a painter, brother of a well-known -sculptor, he spent a substantial part of his childhood in Russia, where -his grandfather supplied the Trans-Siberian Railway with its -locomotives. He was a living proof of the fact that it was possible for -an Englishman to be a musician without being suspected of not being a -gentleman. His was an incisive mind, capable of quick reactions, with a -widely ranging emotional experience. - -With the Camargo Society, Constant Lambert established himself not only -as a conductor, but as the musical mind behind British ballet. However, -it was not an Englishman who discovered him as a composer. That honor -goes to a Russian, Serge Diaghileff, who, when Lambert was bordering on -twenty-one, commissioned him to write a ballet for his company. No other -English composer shared that honor before Diaghileff died, although -Diaghileff did produce, but did not commission, Lord Berners’ _The -Triumph of Neptune_. And so Lambert stands isolated, with his _Romeo and -Juliet_, which was first produced at Monte Carlo, in 1926, with Lifar -and Karsavina as the protagonists; and his second ballet, _Pomona_, -which Bronislava Nijinska staged at the Colon Theatre, Buenos Aires, in -1927. - -Constant Lambert’s English education was at Christ’s Hospital. Early in -his school days he underwent a leg operation that compelled him always -to walk with a stick. All his life he was never entirely free from pain. -At the Royal College of Music he was a pupil of Ralph Vaughan Williams. -Ballet came into his life at an early date, and remained there until his -untimely passing. To it he gave the best years of his life in acting as -a sort of hair-spring to Ninette de Valois’ mainspring in the -development of Sadler’s Wells. On his sound musical foundation Sadler’s -Wells rests. - -It is not within my province to discuss Lambert as a composer; but his -accomplishments and achievements in this field were considerable. It is, -of course, as a musician he will be remembered. But I could not regard -Lambert as a musician pure and simple. He had a wide variety of -interests, not the least of which was painting. Both painting and -sculpture were in his family, and, from conversations with him I -frequently got the notion that, had his technical accomplishments been -other than they were, he would have preferred to have been a painter to -a musician. Much of his music had a pictorial quality, witness his -ballets, _Romeo and Juliet_, _Pomona_, _Horoscope_, and _Tiresias_; -observe his _Piano Concerto_, _Rio Grande_ (“By the Rio Grande, they -dance no Sarabande”), _Music for the Orchestra_, _Elegiac Blues_ (a -tribute to the American Florence Mills), the _Merchant Navy Suite_, -_Summer’s Last Will and Testament_, Hogarthian in color and treatment; -and the work I shall always remember him conducting as a musical -interlude in the first season in New York, the _Aubade Heroique_, the -reproduction in sound of a Dutch landscape, a remembrance of that dawn -in Holland when Lambert, a visiting conductor with Sadler’s Wells, -witnessed the invasion of The Hague by Nazi paratroopers. - -It was as a conductor of Tchaikowsky that I feel he excelled. He was a -masterly Tchaikowsky interpreter. I should have loved to hear him play -the symphonies. I content myself, however, with his _Swan Lake_ and _The -Sleeping Beauty_, and the realization of how much these two Sadler’s -Wells productions owe to him. Never was the music for an instant dull, -for Lambert always conducted it with a fine ear for contrasts of brisk -with languid, happiness with _toska_. - -Composer that he was, he devoted a large part of his life to conducting. -His recordings are to be treasured. Conducting to him was not merely a -source of livelihood, but a very definite form of self-expression, an -important part of him. In my experience, I have found that composers -are, as a rule, bad conductors, and conductors bad composers. Two -exceptions I can name. Both British. Lambert was well nigh unique in his -superlative capacity in both directions, as is Benjamin Britten today. -Lambert, I feel, was not only one of the most gifted composers of his -time, but also one of its finest interpretative artists. He had the -unique quality of being able to enter wholeheartedly into the innermost -essence of forms of art diametrically opposed to his own, even -positively unsympathetic to him personally, and giving superlative -performances of them. - -Lambert was no calm liver, no philosophic hermit; a good deal of a -hedonist, he met life considerably more than half way, and went out to -explore life’s possibilities to the fullest. Moreover, he richly -succeeded in doing so. He was a brilliant wit, both in writing and in -conversation. His book, _Music, Ho!_, remains one of the most -stimulating books of musical commentary and criticism of our time. He -was the collector and creator of an innumerable number of magnificent -but unprintable limericks, in the creation of which he was a distinct -poet. He had composed a series of fifty on one subject--double bishops, -i.e., bishops having more than one diocese, like Bath and Wells. A -friend of mine who has heard Lambert recite them with that gusto of -which only he was capable, tells me that they are, without doubt, one of -the most brilliant achievements in this popular form. - -Wit is one thing; stout-hearted, robust humor is another. Lambert had -both. There was also a shyness of an odd kind, when a roaring laugh -would give way to a fit of wanting to be by himself, wrapped in -melancholy. His was a delicately poised combination of the introvert and -the extravert, the latter expressing itself in the love of male company -over pots of ale and even headier beverages. He had a keen appreciation -of the good things of life. - -This duality of personality was apparent in his physical make-up. There -was something about his appearance that, in a sense, fitted in with the -conventional portrait of John Bull. A figure of a good deal of masculine -strength, he was big, inclined to be burly; his complexion was pink. He -exhibited in himself a disconcerting blend of the most opposite extremes -imaginable. On the one hand, a certain morbidity; on the other, a bluff -and hearty roast-beef-and-Yorkshire Britishness. I have said that he -resembled, physically, the typical drawing of John Bull. As a matter of -fact, he bore an uncanny physical resemblance to Winston Churchill, and -had elements in common with G. K. Chesterton. And a Hollywood casting -director might have engaged him to play the role of the Emperor Nero, on -strict type casting. He had an alert face on which humor often played -good tunes, but on which, now and then, there used to settle a kind of -stern gloom, not to be dispersed by any insensitive back-slapping. - -He was as much at home in France as he was in England. His late -adolescence and early manhood were spent in the hectic, feverish, -restless ’twenties, with the Diaghileff Ballet and the French school of -musical composition as the preponderant influences. As he grew older, -his Englishness, if I may call it that, grew as well. The amazing thing -to me was his ability to maintain such an even balance between the two. - -Lambert had a passion for enigmas. He adored cats, and had a strange -attraction to aquariums, zoos, and their fascinatingly enigmatic -inhabitants. He was President of the Kensington Kittens’ and Neuter -Cats’ Club, Incorporated. An important club, a club with a President who -knew quite a lot about cats. There is a story to the effect that there -was once a most handsome cat at London’s Albert Hall who was a close -friend of Lambert’s, a cat called Tiddleywinks, a discriminating cat, -and a cat with a certain amount of musical taste. Lambert, the -President, would never proceed with the job he had to do at the Albert -Hall without a preliminary chat with Tiddleywinks. And all would be -well. - -Constant Lambert was working on, among other things, an autobiography, -concerning which he one day inquired about completely inaccessible -places left in our shrinking world, particularly since the last war and -James Norman Hall have pretty well exposed the South Pacific islands. -What he actually wanted to know was an inaccessible place to which to -hie after its publication, “because,” he said, “I’m telling the truth -about everyone I know, including myself, and I shall have to flee the -wrath of my ‘friends,’ and find a safe place where the laws of libel -cannot reach me. You know, in my country at least, ‘the greater the -truth, the greater the libel.’” - -There was an infinite variety in his “drive.” He conducted ballet at -Covent Garden; radio concerts at the British Broadcasting Corporation; -symphony concerts, with special emphasis on Liszt and Sibelius, with the -London Philharmonic Orchestra; made magnificent, definitive recordings; -recited the Sitwell poems in _Façade_ at every opportunity; composed -fresh, vital works; made striking musical arrangements. He was at once -composer, conductor, critic, journalist, an authority on railroad -systems, trains, and locomotives, a student of the atom bomb, and a -talker. There are those who insist he was not easy to get to know. It -could be. He was, as I have said, shy. He was a highly concentrated -individual, living a lot on his nerves. Despite this, to those who knew -him, he was the friendliest of good companions, a perpetual stimulus to -those who delighted in knowing him. - -One had to be prepared, to be sure, to discover, in the middle of one of -one’s own sentences (and, frequently, one of his own) that he was--gone. -He would tilt his chin in the air, stare suddenly into far distant -spaces, turn on his heel with the help of his stick, as swiftly as a -ballet-dancer in a _pirouette_, and silently vanish. He was a good -listener--if one had anything to say. He did not suffer fools gladly, -and to bores--that increasing affliction of our times--he presented an -inflexible deafness akin to the switching-off of a hearing-aid, and a -truly magnificent cast-iron rigidity of inattention. The bore fled. So -did Lambert. - -I have given some indication of the width of his interests. It was -amazing. His gusto for life was unquenchable, and with it was a wise, -shrewd appraisement of the human comedy--and tragedy. He was able to get -through an enormous amount of work without ever seeming to do anything. -Best of all, perhaps, he was able to enjoy a joke against himself. In -this world of the arts and artists, where morbid egotisms and too -exposed nerves victimize and vitiate the artist, it was a boon to him -and an extraordinarily attractive characteristic. - -Above all, he had an undying belief in British Ballet. - -The last performance I saw Lambert conduct was the first performance of -his last ballet, _Tiresias_, which was the occasion of a Gala in aid of -the Ballet Benevolent Fund in the presence of H.M. the Queen and -Princess Elizabeth, on the 9th July, 1951. _Tiresias_ was a work on -which Lambert had gone back to his collaboration with Frederick Ashton. -The story he had made himself; it was a sort of composite of the myths -about Tiresias; reduced to as much of a capsule as I can, it deals with -the duality of Tiresias--as man and woman--and how he was struck blind -by Hera, when Tiresias proves her wrong when she argues with Zeus that -man’s lot is happier than woman’s. It was, this ballet, a sort of family -affair in a sense; for Lambert’s wife, Isabel, designed scenery and -costumes, setting the three-scened work on the Island of Crete. - -After the first performance, we met at a large party to which I had gone -with David Webster. Lambert and his wife, along with Ninette de Valois -and Lady Keynes (Lydia Lopokova), joined us at supper. The ballet had -been a long one, running quite a bit more than an hour, and there was -general agreement among us that the work would benefit from judicious -cutting. Lambert thoughtfully considered all the suggestions that were -proffered; agreed that, conceivably, a cut or two might improve it, but -the question was where and how, without damaging what he felt was the -basic structure of the whole. - -Not long after this, Lambert and I met at the door of Covent Garden, -having arrived simultaneously. We had a brief chat, and he was his usual -vastly courteous and amusing self. - -A few days later, at the Savoy, my telephone rang quite early in the -morning. “Madame’s” secretary, Jane Edgeworth, at the other end, -informed me Constant Lambert had just died. I was stunned. - -It appeared that Lambert had been taken ill while at a party and had -been rushed to London Clinic, one of London’s most exclusive and finest -nursing-homes, on Sunday evening, the 19th August. It was on Tuesday -morning, the 21st August, that I received the news of his death. The -funeral was quite private, since the entire Sadler’s Wells company was -away from London performing at the Edinburgh Festival. Lambert was -buried from the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, at Smithfield, in -the City of London. So private was the service that almost no one was -there, and there were no Pallbearers. - -I was present at the Memorial Service, held at the famous Church of St. -Martin’s-in-the-Fields, at Charing Cross, overlooking the National -Gallery. There were gathered his sorrowing company, now returned from -Edinburgh, headed by Ninette de Valois, Frederick Ashton, and David -Webster. The address was given by the Reverend C. B. Mortlock. Robert -Helpmann, an old colleague, read the Lesson. The chorus of the Royal -Opera House, Covent Garden, sang Bach’s _Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring_. -At the close, John Churchill, one of Britain’s greatest organists and an -old friend of Lambert’s, played on the organ that elegiac work Lambert -had composed at the rape of Holland, and which he had conducted so -magnificently at the Metropolitan Opera House--his _Aubade Heroique_. - -Here at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields his colleagues paid him honor. I was -deeply moved. At the little funeral, I had been equally stirred. Here -before me was all that remained of the great man who never took his -greatness seriously; the man who would go to any trouble on behalf of -those who tried, but who, for those who were lazy, or cynical, or -thought themselves superior, and without justification, he had no use -whatever. Here was a man about whom there was nothing of the academic -recluse, but a man who loved life as he loved music, ballet, fully, -strongly, with ever-growing zest and with ever-deepening understanding; -the man who had done so much for ballet, its music, its standards; who -had been of such vital importance in the fashioning of Sadler’s Wells. -My thoughts went back to his creations, his arrangements. I was actually -conscious of his imprint on all ballet. Memories of his wit, his -brilliance, crowded into my mind. - -I expected, I think, that with the sudden passing of a man of such fame, -there would be an outpouring of thousands for his funeral, to pay their -last, grateful respects. I was surprised. This was not the case, as I -have explained. A few close distinguished friends and colleagues -gathered beside the coffin in the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, -in the City: Sir William Walton, Osbert and Sacheverell Sitwell, Sir -Arthur Bliss, Edmund Rubbra, Alan Rawsthorne, Ninette de Valois, -Frederick Ashton, and Robert Helpmann who had hurried down from -Edinburgh. - -The service was brief and hushed. I was indeed very sad, and my thoughts -traveled out to the little chapel in Golder’s Green, not so far as an -angel flies, where lay all that was mortal of another genius of the -dance and another friend, in the urn marked: “East Wall--No. 3711--Anna -Pavlova.” - -As Lambert’s body was borne from St. Bartholomew the Great’s gothic -pile, I bowed my head low as a great man passed, a very lovable man. - - -_DAVID WEBSTER_ - -I have dwelt at some length on my impressions of the artistic -directorate of Sadler’s Wells. Beyond and apart from the artistic -direction of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, but very much responsible for -its financial well-being, is David Lumsden Webster, the General -Administrator of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. - -David Webster is not a head-line hunter. He is certainly not the -press-agent’s delight. He does not court publicity. He permits his work -to speak for itself. - -On more than one occasion I have been appropriately chilled by a reading -of the impersonal factual coldness of the entries in that otherwise -useful volume, _Who’s Who_. The following quotation from it is no -exception: - - _Webster, David Lumsden, B.A.--General Administrator Royal Opera - House 1946--Born 3rd July, 1903--Educated Holt School, Liverpool - University, Oxford University--President Liverpool Guild of - Undergraduates, 1924-25--General Manager Bon Marché, Liverpool, - Ltd., 1932-40--General Manager Lewis’s Ltd., Liverpool, - 1940-41--Ministry of Supply Ordnance Factories, engaged on special - methods of developing production, 1942-44--Chairman Liverpool - Philharmonic Society, June 1940-October 1945._ - -To be sure, the facts are there. Not only is it possible to elaborate on -these facts, but to add some which may be implicit in the above -summary, but not apparent. For example, I can add that David Webster is -a cultured gentleman of taste, courage, and splendid business -perspicacity. His early background of business administration, as may be -gathered, was acquired in the fields of textiles and wearing apparel, -and was continued, during the war, in the highly important field of -expediting ordnance production. - -Things that are not implicit or even suggested in _Who’s Who_ are the -depth and breadth of his culture, his knowledge of literature and drama -and poetry and music--his love for the last making him a genuine musical -amateur in the best sense of the term. It was the last that was of -immense value to him as Chairman of the Liverpool Philharmonic Society -in building it into one of Britain’s outstanding symphonic bodies. It is -understandable that there was a certain amount of pardonable pride in -the accomplishment, since Webster is himself a Liverpudlian. - -At the end of the war, in a shell-shocked, bomb-blasted London, Webster -was invited to take over the post of General Administrator at Covent -Garden when the Covent Garden Opera Trust was formed at the time of the -Boosey and Hawkes leasehold. Since 1946, David Webster has been -responsible for the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden: for the Opera -entirely, and for the Ballet, in conjunction with Ninette de Valois. - -During this time, he has restored the historic house to its rightful -place among the leading lyric theatres of the world; where private -enterprise and the private Maecenas failed, Webster has succeeded. By -his policies, the famous house has been saved from the ignominy of a -public dance-hall in off-seasons, for now there are no longer any -“off-seasons.” - -David Webster is uniquely responsible for a number of things at Covent -Garden. Let me try to enumerate them. He has succeeded in establishing -and maintaining the Royal Opera House, Covent Carden, as a truly -national opera house, restoring this great theatre and reclaiming it as -a national center for ballet and opera, on a year-round basis. He has -succeeded in shaking off many of the hidebound traditions and -conventions of opera production. While the great standard works of opera -are an essential part of the operatic repertoire, he initiated a broad -policy of experimentation both in the production of standard works and -in new, untried operas. He has succeeded, through his invitation to the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, in making ballet an integral and important part -of the Opera House and has helped it to become a truly national ballet. -In addition to striking national operas by Bliss and Vaughan Williams, -it was Webster’s courage that has provided a home for three unique -operas, _Peter Grimes_, _Billy Budd_ and _Gloriana_, great works by that -brilliant young British composer, Benjamin Britten. While it is true the -original commission for the former work came from the Natalie -Koussevitsky Foundation in America, it was Webster who had the vision -and courage to mount both great modern operas grandly. It was Webster -who had the courage to mount the latter, based on Herman Melville’s -immortal story, with Britten as conductor; and a magnificent one he -turned out to be. - -Britten is indisputably at the very top among the figures of -contemporary music. He is a young man of exceptional gifts, and it is -Webster and the permanent Covent Garden organization that have provided -the composer with exceptional opportunities for the expression of them. -This is only possible through the existence of a national opera house -with a permanent roof over its head. - -As is the case with all innovators, it has not been all clear sailing -for Webster; there were sections of the press that railed against his -policy. But Webster won, because at the root of the policy was a very -genuine desire to break away from stale conventions, to combat some of -the stock objections and prejudices that keep many people away from -opera. For Webster’s aim is to create a steady audience and to appeal to -groups that have not hitherto attended opera and ballet, or have -attended only when the most brilliant stars were appearing. - -In London, as in every center, every country, there are critics and -critics. Some are captious; others are not. One of the latter variety in -London once tackled me, pointing out his dislike for most of the things -that were going on at Covent Garden, his disagreement with others. I -listened for a time, until he asked me if I agreed with him. - -My answer was simple and short. - -“Look here,” I said. “A few years ago this beautiful house had what? -Shilling dances. Who peopled it? Drunken sailors, among others. Bow -Street and the streets adjoining were places you either avoided like the -plague; or else you worried and hurried through them, if you must. - -“Today, you have a great opera house restored to its proper uses. Now -you have something to criticize. Before you didn’t.” - -It has been thanks to David Webster’s sympathetic guidance that ballet -has grown in popularity until its audiences are larger than are those -for opera. - -A man of firm purpose, few words, eclectic taste, and great personal -charm, David Webster is a master of diplomatic skill. I can honestly say -that some of the happiest days of my life have been spent working -closely with him. Had it not been for his warm cooperation, his -unquenchable enthusiasm, America might easily have been denied the -pleasure and profit of Sadler’s Wells, and our lives would have been the -poorer. - -The last time I was in Webster’s office, I remarked, “We must prepare -the papers for the next tour.” - -Webster looked up quickly. - -“No papers are necessary,” he said. - -For the reader who has come this far, it should not be necessary for me -to underline the difference between negotiations with the British and -the years of wrangling through the intrigues and dissimulations of the -Russo-Caucasian-Eastern European-New England mazes of indecision. - -My respect for and my confidence in David Webster are unlimited. He is a -credit to his country; and to him, also, must go much of the credit for -the creation of a genuine national opera and for the solid position of -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet. - - -_ROBERT HELPMANN_ - -It was towards the end of the San Francisco engagement of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet that there occurred a performance, gala so far as the -audience was concerned, but which was not without its sadness to the -company, to me, and to all those who had watched the growth and -development, the rise to a position of pre-eminence on the part of -British ballet. The public was, of course, completely unaware of the -event. It is not the sort of thing one publicizes. - -Robert Helpmann, long the principal male dancer, a co-builder, and an -important choreographer of the company, resigned. His last performance -as a regular member of the organization took place in the War Memorial -Opera House. The vehicle for his last appearance was the grand -_pas-de-deux_ from the third act of _The Sleeping Beauty_, with Margot -Fonteyn. It was eminently fitting that Helpmann’s final appearance as a -regular member of the company was with Margot. Their association, as -first artists with the company, encompassed the major portion of its -history, some fifteen years. - -During this period, Helpmann had served in two capacities -simultaneously: as principal dancer and as choreographer. An Australian -by birth in 1909, his first ballet training came from the Anna Pavlova -company when Pavlova was on one of her Australian tours. For four years -he danced “down under,” and came to Britain in 1933, studying with the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet School, while dancing in the _corps de ballet_. -His first important role was in succession to Anton Dolin as Satan, in -the de Valois-Vaughan Williams _Job_. From 1934, he was the first male -dancer of the Sadler’s Wells organization. Helpmann often took leaves of -absence to appear in various plays and films, for he is an actor of -ability and distinction. As a choreographer, his _Hamlet_ and _Miracle -in the Gorbals_ are distinctive additions to any repertoire. - -“Bobby” Helpmann has not given up ballet entirely. When he can spare the -time from his theatrical and film commitments, he is bound to turn up as -a guest artist, and I hope to see him again partnering great -_ballerinas_. Always a good colleague, he has been blessed by the gods -with a delicious sense of humor. This serves him admirably in such roles -as one of the Ugly Sisters in _Cinderella_--I never can distinguish -which one by name, and only know “Bobby” was the sister which “Freddy” -Ashton was not. Both _Hamlet_ and _Miracle in the Gorbals_ revealed his -serious acting qualities. - -Man of the theatre, he is resourceful. On the first night of _The -Sleeping Beauty_, at the Metropolitan Opera House, there were a few -ticklish moments at the beginning of the Transformation Scene, due to -technical difficulties. The orchestra under Lambert went straight on. -But the stage wait was covered by Helpmann’s entrance, his sure hand, -his manner, his style, his “line,” his graciousness. - -I have mentioned some of Helpmann’s warm personal qualities. He is one -of those associated with Sadler’s Wells who has helped to number my -Sadler’s Wells’ associations among my happiest experiences. Helpmann is -one of those who, like the others when I am with them, compel me to -forget my business interests and concerns and all their associated -problems: just another proof that, with people of this sort, there is -something else in life besides business. - -There has been, perhaps, undue emphasis placed upon Helpmann, the actor, -with a corresponding tendency to overlook his dancing abilities. From -the point of view of sheer technical virtuosity, there are others who -surpass him. But technical virtuosity is not by any means all of a -dancer’s story. I happen to know of dancers who, in my opinion, have -excelled Nijinsky and Pavlova in these departments, but they were much -lesser artists. It is the overall quality in a dancer that matters. -Helpmann, I feel, is a dancer of really exceptional fluency, superb -lightness, genuine musicality, and admirable control. He is one of the -rare examples among male dancers to be seen about us today of what is -known in ballet terminology as the _danseur noble_. It is the _danseur -noble_ who is the hero, the prince, of classical ballet. As a mime and -an actor in ballet he may be compared with Leonide Massine, but the -quality I have mentioned Helpmann as having is something that has been -denied Massine, who is best in modern character ballets. - -Sir Arthur Bliss, one of Britain’s most distinguished composers, and the -creator of the scores to, among others, _Checkmate_ and _Miracle in the -Gorbals_, has said: “Robert Helpmann breathes the dust of the theatre -like hydrogen. His quickness to seize on the dramatic possibilities of -music is mercurial. I was not at all surprised to hear him sing in _Les -Sirènes_. It would seem quite natural to see him walk on to the Albert -Hall platform one day to play a violin concerto.” - -It is always a pleasure to me to observe him in his varied roles and to -watch him prepare for them. He leaves absolutely nothing to chance. His -approach is always the product of his fine intelligence. He experiments -with expression, with gesture, with make-up, coupling his reading, his -study of paintings, with his own keen sense of observation. - -“Bobby” Helpmann and I have one great bond in common: our mutual -adoration of Pavlova. Pavlova has, I know, strongly influenced him, and -this influence is apparent in the genuine aristocracy of his bearing and -his movement, in the purity of his style. - -There is a pretty well authenticated story about the first meeting -between Helpmann and Ninette de Valois, after the former had arrived in -London from Australia, and was looking for work at Sadler’s Wells. It -was an audition. The choreographer at such times is personally concerned -with the body of the aspirant, the extremities, the quality of movement, -the technical equipment of the applicant, some revelation of his -training and his style, if any. It is characteristic of Ninette de -Valois’ tendency to do the unexpected that, in Helpmann’s case, she -found herself regarding the “wrong end” of her subject. Her comment on -this occasion has become historic. - -“I can do something with that face,” she said. - -She did. - -It has been a source of regret to me that on the 1953 American visit of -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, “Bobby” Helpmann is not a regular member of -the company. It is not the same without him. - -I have said that perhaps undue emphasis has been put on Helpmann, the -actor. If this is true, it is only because of “Bobby’s” amazing -versatility: as dancer, as choreographer, as actor, as stage-director. -He can turn at will from one medium to the other. As actor, it should -not be forgotten that he has appeared with equal success in revues (as a -mimic); in Shakespeare (both on stage and screen); in plays ranging from -Webster and Bernard Shaw to the Russian Andreyev. - -Most recently, he has acted with the American Katherine Hepburn, and has -scored perhaps his most outstanding directorial success to date in his -superlatively fine mounting of T. S. Eliot’s _Murder in the Cathedral_, -at the Old Vic. - -I am looking forward to bringing “Bobby” to America in the not too far -distant future in a great production of a Shakespeare work which I am -confident will make theatrical history. - -“Bobby” Helpmann, as I have pointed out, is more than a dancer: he is a -splendid actor, a fine creator, a distinguished choreographer, an -intelligent human being. - -His is a friendship I value; he is alive and eager, keen and shrewd, -with a ready smile and a glint in his eye. For “Bobby” has a happy way -with him, and whether you are having a meal with him or discussing a -point, you cannot help reacting to his boyish enthusiasm, his zeal for -his job, his flair for doing it. My memories of dinners and suppers with -the “inseparables,” to which I have often been invited, are treasured. -The “inseparables” were that closely-linked little group: Fonteyn, -Ashton, Helpmann, with de Valois along, when she was in town and free. -The bond between the members of the group is very close. - -It was in Chicago. It was mid-tour, with rehearsals and conferences and -meetings for future planning. We were at breakfast. “Madame” suddenly -turned to Helpmann. - -“Bobby,” she said, with that crisp tone that immediately commands -attention. “Bobby, I want you to be sure to be at the Drake Hotel to -give a talk to the ladies at one o’clock _sharp_. Now, be sure to come, -and be sure to be there on time.” - -“How, in heaven’s name,” replied Helpmann, “can I possibly be in two -places at one time? You told me I shall have to be at the Public Library -at one sharp.” - -De Valois regarded him for a long moment. - -“You astound me, Bobby,” she finally said. “Did I tell you that? Very -well, then, let it be the Public Library. I shall take the Drake Hotel. -But watch out, make sure you are there on time.” - -Ninette de Valois not only did something with “that face.” She also made -good use of that intelligence. - -I last saw “Bobby” Helpmann dance at the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden, on Coronation Night, when he returned as a guest artist with the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, to appear with Margot Fonteyn in _Le Lac des -Cygnes_, Act Two. - -What a pleasure it was to see him dancing once more, the true cavalier, -with his perfect style and the same submerging of technique in the ebb -and flow of the dance. I am looking forward to seeing him again, and, I -hope, again and again. - - -_ARNOLD L. HASKELL_ - -Among my cherished associations with this fine organization, I cannot -fail to acknowledge the contribution to ballet and the popularity of it, -made through the media of books, articles, lectures, by the one-time -ballet critic and now Director and Principal of the Sadler’s Wells -School, Arnold L. Haskell. - -Haskell, the complete _balletomane_ himself, has done as much, if not -more, to develop the cult of the _balletomane_ in the western -Anglo-Saxon world as any one else I know. Devoted to the cause of the -dance, for years he gave unsparingly of his time and means to spread the -gospel of ballet. - -In the early days of the renaissance of ballet, Haskell came to the -United States on the first visit of the de Basil company and was of -immense assistance in helping to create an interest in and a desire to -find out about ballet on the part of the American people. He helped to -organize an audience. Later, he toured Australia with the de Basil -company, preaching “down under” the gospel of the true art with the zeal -of a passionate, proselyting, non-conformist missionary. - -From his untiring pen has come a long procession of books and articles -on ballet appreciation in general, and on certain phases of ballet in -particular--books of illumination to the lay public, of sound advice to -dancers. - -Arnold Haskell’s balletic activities can be divided into five -departments: organizer, author, lecturer, critic, and educator. In the -first category, he, with Philip J. S. Richardson, long-time editor and -publisher of the _Dancing Times_ (London), was instrumental in forming -and founding the Camargo Society, after the death of Diaghileff. As -lecturer, he delivered more than fifteen hundred lectures on ballet for -the British Ministry of Information, the Arts Council, the Council for -the Education of His Majesty’s Forces. As critic, he has written -innumerable critical articles for magazines and periodicals, and, from -1934 to 1938, was the ballet critic of the _Daily Telegraph_ (London). - -As critic, Haskell has rendered a valuable service to ballet. His -approach is invariably intelligent. He has a sound knowledge of the -dancer as dancer and, so far as dancers and dancing are concerned, he -has exhibited a fine intuition and a good deal of prophetic insight. - -The fifth department of Arnold Haskell’s activities, educator, is the -one on which he is today most successfully and conspicuously engaged. As -the active head of the Sadler’s Wells School, established in its own -building in Colet Gardens, Kensington, Arnold Haskell is in his element, -continuing his sound advice directly; he is acting as wise and -discerning mentor to a rising generation of dancers, who live together -in the same atmosphere for at least eight years. - -I have a feeling of warm friendship for Arnold Haskell, an infinite -respect for him as a person, and for his knowledge. - -The School of which he is the head, like all other Sadler’s Wells -activities, is carried on in association with the British Arts Council, -thus carrying forward the Council’s avowed axiom that the art of a -people is one of its signs of good health. So it has always been in the -world’s history from Ancient Greece to France at the time of the -Crusades, to Renaissance Italy and Elizabethan England. Each one of -those earlier manifestations, whatever its excellence, was confined to a -limited number of people, to the privileged and the elect. The new -renaissance will inevitably be the emergence of the common man into the -audience of art. He has always been a part of that audience when he has -had the opportunity. Now the opportunity must come in such a way that -none is overlooked and the result will be fresh vigour and -self-confidence in the people as a whole. - -The Sadler’s Wells School is, of course, under the direct supervision of -Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E. Its Board of Governors, which is active -and not merely a list of names, numbers distinguished figures from the -world of art, music and letters. - -The School was founded by the Governors of the Sadler’s Wells -Foundation, in association with the Arts Council, in 1947, to train -dancers who will be fitted to carry on the high tradition of Sadler’s -Wells and generally to maintain and enhance the prestige of British -Ballet. Over eighty-five per cent of the members of the ballet companies -at both the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, and at the Sadler’s Wells -Theatre are graduates of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School. The School -combines a full secondary education and a highly specialized vocational -training. Boys and girls are taken from the age of nine. Pupils are -prepared for what is the equivalent on this side of the Atlantic of a -complete High School education; in Britain, the General Certificate of -Education, and the curriculum includes the usual school subjects of -English language and literature, French, Latin (for boys only), history, -geography, Scripture, mathematics, science, handicraft, music, and art -work. The dance training consists of classical ballet, character dances, -mime. Importance is attached to character formation and to the -self-discipline essential for success on the stage. - -There is also an Upper School, which is open to boys and girls above -school-leaving age. After taking the General Certificate of Education, -the American equivalent of graduation from high school, students from -the Lower School pass into the Upper School if they have reached a -standard which qualifies them for further training in the senior ballet -classes. The Upper School is also open to students from other schools. -Entry is by interview, and applicants are judged on general -intelligence, physical aptitude, and standard attained. Entrants are -accepted on one term’s trial. Here the curriculum includes, in -post-education: classes in English and French language and literature, -history, art, music, lecture courses, and Dalcroze Eurhythmics. In -ballet--the classical ballet, character dances, mime, tuition in the -roles of the classical ballets and modern works in the repertoire of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet Companies. It is important to note that all ballet -classes for boys are taken by male teachers. - -The School is inspected by Her Majesty’s Inspectors of Schools, and is -licensed as a first-class educational institution. The pupils number -about one hundred ten in the Lower School, with about thirty in the -Upper School. - -So splendidly has the School developed that now a substantial physical -addition is being made to the premises in Colet Gardens, in the form of -a new building, to provide dormitories and living quarters so that it -may become a full-time boarding school, as well as a day-school; and -thus obviate the necessity for many students to live outside the school, -either at home or, as so often the case if the students come from -distant places, in the proverbial London “digs.” - -One of the most interesting and significant things about the School to -me is the number of boys enrolled and their backgrounds. Such is the -feeling about male dancing in our Anglo-Saxon civilization that many of -the boys have had to be offered scholarship inducements to enroll. The -bulk of the boys come out of working-class families in the North of -England and the Midlands. They are tough and manly. It is from boys such -as these that the prejudice against male dancing will gradually die out, -and the effeminate dancer will become, as he should, a thing of the -past. - - -_MOIRA SHEARER_ - -Although, to my regret, due to personal, family, and artistic reasons, -Moira Shearer is not present with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet on its -1953-1954 North American tour, I know her devotion to the Sadler’s Wells -institution remains unchanged. - -The simple fact is that Moira Shearer is preparing to enter a new and -different aspect of the theatre, a development with which I hope I shall -have something to do in the near future. - -Among the personalities of the company during the first two Sadler’s -Wells tours, American interest and curiosity were at their highest, for -obvious reasons, in Moira Shearer. The film, _Red Shoes_, had stimulated -an interest in ballet on the part of yet another new public, and its -_ballerina_ star had acquired the questionable halo of a movie star. -This was something that was anything but pleasing to the gentle, -intelligent Moira Shearer; and was, moreover, something she deplored. - -Born in Dunfermline, Fifeshire, Scotland, in 1926, Moira Shearer came to -ballet at an early age, having had dance lessons in Rhodesia as a child -at the hands of a former Diaghileff dancer. It was on her return to -England, when she was about eleven, that her serious studies began with -Madame Nadine Nicolaeva-Legat. In 1940 she joined the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet School, remaining briefly, however, because of the blitz. But, -early in 1941, she turned up with the International Ballet, another -British ballet organization, dancing leading roles at the age of -fourteen, another example of the “baby” _ballerina_. In 1942, she left -that company to rejoin Sadler’s Wells School. - -In 1943, Shearer became a member of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, achieving -an almost instant success and a marked popularity with audiences. What -impresses me most about Moira Shearer, the dancer, is a fluidity of -movement that has about it a definite Russian quality; she has a fine -polish in her style, coupled with great spontaneity and a gentle, easy -grace. - -Distinctive not only for her Titian-coloring and her famed auburn-haired -beauty and her slender grace, Shearer is equally noteworthy for her -poise and an almost incredible lightness; for her assurance and -classical dignity; for her ability to dominate the stage. The “Russian” -quality about her dancing I have mentioned, I suspect stems from her -early indoctrination and her training at the hands of Madame Legat; -there is something Russian about her entrances, when she immediately -commands the stage and becomes the focus of all eyes. All of these -qualities are particularly apparent in _Cinderella_. - -Moira Shearer’s reputation had preceded her across the United States and -Canada, as I have pointed out, because of the exhibition of spontaneity, -beauty and charm that had been revealed to thousands in the motion -picture, _Red Shoes_. There is no denying this film was highly -successful. I suppose it can be argued successfully that _Red Shoes_ -brought ballet to a new audience, and thus, in that sense, was good for -ballet. Whatever it may have been, it was not a true, or good, or honest -picture of ballet. I happen to know how Moira Shearer feels about it, -and I share her feelings. Although she dislikes to talk or hear very -much about _Red Shoes_, and was not very happy with it or about it, she -was, I fancy, less disturbed by her role in _The Tales of Hoffman_, with -“Freddy” Ashton, “Bobby” Helpmann, and Leonide Massine. Best of all her -film excursions, Moira feels, was her sequence in _My Three Loves_, -which Ashton directed for her in Hollywood. - -Once, on introducing her to one of those characteristic, monumental -California salads, her comment was: “My, but it’s delicious; yet it -looks like that Technicolor mess I should like to forget.” Shearer feels -_Red Shoes_ was rather a sad mess, a complete travesty of the ballet -life which it posed as portraying; that it was false and phoney -throughout, and that, perhaps, the phoniest thing about it was its -alleged glamor. On the other hand, she does not regard the time she -spent making it wasted, for, as she says, she was able to sit at the -feet of Leonide Massine and watch and learn and observe the -concentration with which he worked, the intelligence he brought to every -gesture, and the vast ingenuity and originality he applied to everything -he did. - -I happen to know Shearer has no illusions about the film publicity -campaign that made her a movie star overnight. She was amused by it, but -never taken in, and was hurt only when the crowds mobbed for autographs -and Americans hailed her as “_the_ star” of Sadler’s Wells. - -Cultured and highly intelligent, Moira Shearer is intensely musical, -both in life and in the dance. This musicality is particularly apparent -in her portrayal of the Princess Aurora in _The Sleeping Beauty_, and in -the dual role of Odette-Odile in _Swan Lake_. Again it is markedly -noticeable in a quite non-classical work, for of all the dancers I have -seen dance the Tango in _Façade_, she is by far the most satiric and -brilliant. She is well-nigh indispensable to _Wedding Bouquet_. - -Aside from the qualities I have mentioned, there is also a fine -romanticism about her work. Intelligence in a dancer is something that -is rare. There are those who argue that it is not necessarily a virtue -in a dancer. They could not be more wrong. It is, I think, Moira -Shearer’s superior intelligence that gives her, among other things, that -power of pitiless self-criticism that is the hallmark of the first-class -artist. - -Moira Shearer has been as fortunate in her private life as in her -professional activities. She lives happily in a lovely London home with -her attractive and talented writer-husband, Ludovic Kennedy. During the -second Sadler’s Wells American tour, her husband drove across the -continent from New York to Los Angeles to join Moira for the California -engagement, discovering, by means of a tiny Austin, that there were -still a great many of the wide-open spaces left in the land Columbus -discovered. - -In her charming London flat, with her husband, her books, her pictures, -and her music, she carries out one of her most serious ambitions: to be -a good mother; for the center of the household is her young daughter, -born in midsummer, 1952. - -The depth of Moira Shearer’s sincerity I happen to know not only from -others, but from personal experience. It is a genuine and real sincerity -that applies to every aspect of her life, and not only in art and the -theatre. - -A loyal colleague, she has a highly developed sense of honor. As Ninette -de Valois once remarked to me: “Anything that Moira has ever said or -promised is a bond with her, and nothing of a confirming nature in -writing is required.” - -A splendid artist, _ballerina_, and film star, it is my profound hope -that Moira may meet with the same degree of success in her new venture -into the legitimate theatre. - -There seems little doubt of this, since I am persuaded that she will -make good in anything she undertakes. - - -_BERYL GREY_ - -Another full-fledged _ballerina_ of the company, is Beryl Grey, who -alternates all _ballerina_ roles today with Fonteyn, Violetta Elvin, -Nadia Nerina and Rowena Jackson. Beryl Grey’s American success was -assured on the opening night of the first season at the Metropolitan -Opera House, with her gracious and commandingly sympathetic performance -of the Lilac Fairy in _The Sleeping Beauty_. - -In a sense, Grey’s and Shearer’s careers have followed a similar -pattern, in that they were both “baby ballerinas.” Born Beryl Groom, at -Muswell Hill, in London’s Highgate section, in 1927, the daughter of a -government technical expert and his wife, Beryl Grey’s dancing studies -began very early in life in Manchester, and at the age of nine, she won -a scholarship at the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School. In 1941, she joined -the company, and so rapid was her growth as an artist that she danced -leading roles in some half-dozen of the one-act ballets in the -repertoire, in place of Margot Fonteyn who had been taken ill. Even more -remarkable is the fact that she danced the full-length _Swan Lake_ in -London on her fifteenth birthday. - -The term, “baby ballerina,” has become a part of ballet’s language, due -to its association with the careers of Baronova and Toumanova in the -early ’thirties. In Grey’s case, however, she was privileged to have a -much wider experience in classical ballets than her _émigré_ Russian -predecessors. She was only seventeen when she danced the greatest of all -classical roles in the repertoire of the true _ballerina_, Giselle. - -My feeling about Beryl Grey, the dancer, is that she possesses -strikingly individual qualities, both of style and technique. She has -been greatly helped along the path to stardom by Frederick Ashton who, -as I have pointed out, likes nothing better than to discover and exploit -a dancer’s talents. It was he who gave Grey her first big dramatic -parts. - -Beryl Grey is married to a distinguished Swedish osteopath, Dr. Sven -Svenson, and they live in a charming Mayfair flat in London. Here again -one finds that characteristic of fine intelligence coupled with an -intense musicality. Also rare among dancers, Grey is an omnivorous -reader of history, biography, and the arts. She feels, I know, that, -apart from “Madame” and Ashton, who have been so keenly instrumental in -shaping her career, a sense of deep gratitude to Constant Lambert for -his kindness and help to her from her very early days; for his readiness -to discuss with her any aspect of music; and she gratefully remembers -how nothing was too inconsequential for his interest, his advice and -help; how no conductor understood what the dancer required from music -more than he did. She is also mindful of the inspiration she had from -Leonide Massine, of his limitless energy, his indefatigable enthusiasm, -his creative fire; she learned that no detail was too small to be -corrected and worked over and over. As she says: “He was so swift and -light, able to draw with immediate ease a complete and clear picture.” -Also, she points out, “He was quiet and of few words, but had a fine -sense of humor which was often reflected in his penetrating brown eyes. -His rare praise meant a great deal.” - -Beryl Grey is the star in the first three-dimensional ballet film ever -to be made, based on the famous Black Swan _pas de deux_ from _Le Lac -des Cygnes_. - -From the point of view of a dancer, Beryl Grey had one misfortune over -which she had to triumph: she is above average height. This she has been -able to turn into a thing of beauty, with a beautifully flowing length -of “line.” Personally, she is a gentle person, with a genuine humility -and a simple unaffected kindliness, and a fresh, completely unspoiled -charm. Her success in all the great roles has been such as to make her -one of the most popular figures with the public. - -I find great pleasure in her precision and strength as a dancer, in her -poised, statuesque grace, in her clean technique; and in her special -sort of technical accomplishment, wherein nothing ever seems to present -her any problems. - -During the American tours of Sadler’s Wells, she is almost invariably -greeted with flowers at the station. She seems to have friends in every -city. How she manages to do this, I am not sure; but I feel it must be a -tribute to her genuine warmth and friendliness. - - -_VIOLETTA ELVIN_ - -Violetta Elvin, another of the talented _ballerinas_ of the “fabulous” -Sadler’s Wells company, is in the direct line of Russian ballet, for she -is a product of the contemporary ballet of Russia. - -The daughter of a pioneer of Russian aviation, Vassili Prokhoroff, and -his wife, Irina Grimousinkaya, a Polish artist and an early experimenter -with action photography, Violetta Prokhorova became a pupil at the -Bolshoi Theatre, Moscow, at the age of nine. It is interesting to note -that she was one of a class of fifty accepted out of five hundred -applicants; it is still more interesting, and an example of the rigorous -Russian training, that, when she finished the course nine years later, -out of the original fifty there were only nine left: three girls and six -boys. Of the three girls, Prokhorova was the only one who attained -ballet’s coveted rank of _etoile_. - -Violetta finished her training at the time Moscow was being evacuated -against the Nazi invasion, and was sent on a three-thousand mile journey -to be a _ballerina_ at the ballet at Tashkent, Russian Turkestan. Here, -at the age of eighteen, she danced the leading roles in two works, _The -Fountain of Bakchissarai_, based on Pushkin’s famous poem, and _Don -Quixote_, the Minkus work of which contemporary American balletgoers -know only the famous _pas de deux_, but which I presented in America, -during the season 1925-1926, staged by Laurent Novikoff, with settings -and costumes by the great Russian painter, Korovin. - -Another point of interest about Elvin is that she was never a member of -the _corps de ballet_, for she was transferred from Tashkent to the -Bolshoi Ballet, which had been moved, for safety reasons, to Kuibyshev, -some five hundred miles from Moscow. In the early autumn of 1943, when -the Nazi horde had been driven back in defeat, the Ballet returned to -the Bolshoi, and Prokhorova danced important roles there. - -It was in Moscow, in 1945, that Violetta Prokhorova married Harold -Elvin, an architect associated with the British Embassy, and came with -him to London. On her arrival in London she became a member of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, first as a soloist, and later as _ballerina_. - -My own impressions are of a vibrant personality and a great beauty. Her -feet are extraordinarily beautiful, and, if I am any judge of the female -figure, I would say her body approximates the perfect classical -proportions. In her dancing, her Russian training is at all times -evident, for there is a charm of manner, a broad lyricism, coupled with -a splendid poise that are not the common heritage of all western -dancers. - -It begins to sound like an overworked cliché, but again we have that -rare quality in a dancer: intelligence. Once again, intelligence coupled -with striking beauty. Elvin’s interests include all the classics in -literature, the history of art, philosophy, museums, and good Russian -food. - -Already Elvin has had a film career, two motion pictures to date: _Twice -Upon a Time_, by the makers of _Red Shoes_, and the latest, the story of -the great British soprano, Nellie Melba, the title role of which is -played by Patrice Munsel. - -While engaged on the second American tour of the Sadler’s Wells company, -Violetta met an American, whom she has recently married. - -Talented far beyond average measure, Elvin is a true _ballerina_ in the -tradition of the Russian school and is ever alert to improve her art and -to give audiences something better than her best. - - -_NADIA NERINA_ - -I cannot fail to pay my respects to the young Nadia Nerina, today -another of the alternating _ballerinas_ of the company, with full -_ballerina_ standing, whom I particularly remember as one of the most -delightful and ebullient soloists of the company on its two American -visits. - -An example of the wide British Commonwealth base of the personnel of the -Sadler’s Wells company, Nadia Nerina is from South Africa, where she was -born in 1927. It was in Cape Town that she commenced her ballet studies -and had her early career; for she was a winner of the _South African -Dancing Times_ Gold Medal and, when she was fifteen, was awarded the -Avril Kentridge Shield in the Dance Festival at Durban. Moreover, she -toured the Union of South Africa and, when nineteen, went to London to -study at the Sadler’s Wells School. Very soon after her arrival, she -was dancing leading roles and was one of the _ballerinas_ of the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. - -Such was her success in Rosebery Avenue, and such the wisdom of Ninette -de Valois, that, within the year, Nerina was transferred to Covent -Carden. Today, as I have pointed out, she has been promoted to full -_ballerina_ status. - -It is a well-deserved promotion, for Nerina’s development has been as -sure as it has been steady. I have seen her in _Le Lac des Cygnes_ since -her ascendancy to full _ballerina_ rank, and have rejoiced in her fine -technical performance, as I have in the quality of her miming--something -that is equally true in Delibes’ _Sylvia_. - -It is characteristic of Ninette de Valois that she gives all her -_ballerinas_ great freedom within the organization. One is permitted to -go to Denmark, Norway, Sweden. Another to La Scala, Milan. Yet another -to films. An example of this desire on “Madame’s” part to encourage her -leading personnel to extend their experience and to prevent any spirit -of isolation, is the tour Nerina recently made through her native South -Africa, in company with her Sadler’s Wells partner, Alexis Rassine, -himself a South African. - -The outstanding quality in Nerina’s dancing for me is the sheer joy she -brings to it, a sort of love for dancing for its own sake. In everything -she does, there is the imprint of her own strong personality, her -vitality, and the genuine elegance she brings to the use of her sound -technique. - - -_ROWENA JACKSON_ - -During the first two American tours of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, a -young dancer who attracted an unusual amount of attention, particularly -in the Ashton-Lambert _Les Patineurs_, for her remarkable virtuosic -performance and her multiple turns, was Rowena Jackson. - -Today, Rowena Jackson is the newest addition to the Sadler’s Wells list -of _ballerinas_. - -Rowena Jackson is still another example of the width of the British -Commonwealth base of the Sadler’s Wells organization, having been born -in Invercargil, New Zealand, on the 24th March, 1926, where her father -was postmaster. Her first ballet training was at the Lawson-Powell -School, in New Zealand. It was in 1947 that the young dancer joined the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet. - -This rise of the British dancer more than fulfils the prophecy of The -Swan. It was thirty years ago that Pavlova said: “English women have -fine faces, graceful figures, and a real sense of poetry of dancing. -They only lack training to provide the best dancers of the world.” She -went on: “If only more real encouragement were given in England to -ballet dancers the day would not be far distant when the English dancer -would prove a formidable rival to the Russians.” - -Now that the British dancer has been given the encouragement, the truth -of Anna Pavlova’s prophecy is the more striking. - -As I have said, Rowena Jackson attracted attention throughout North -America in _Les Patineurs_, gaining a reputation for a surpassing -technical brilliance in turns. These turns, known as _fouetées_, I have -mentioned more than once. Legend has it that Jackson can do in excess of -one hundred-fifty of them, non-stop. It is quite incredible. - -Brilliance is one thing. Interpretation is another. When I saw Jackson -in _Le Lac des Cygnes_, my admiration for her and for Ninette de Valois -soared. Jackson’s Swan Queen proved to me that at Sadler’s Wells another -_ballerina_ had been born. (I nearly wrote “created”; but _ballerinas_ -are born, not made). As the Swan Queen she was all pathos and softness -and tenderness and protectiveness; to the evil Black Swan, Odile, she -brought the hard brittleness the role demands. - -Rowena Jackson’s future among the illustrious of the world of ballet -seems assured, and I shall watch her with interest, as I am sure will -audiences. - - -_SADLER’S WELLS THEATRE BALLET_ - -While I was in London after the close of the first American tour of the -Sadler’s Wells Covent Garden Ballet, I paid a visit to the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, the cradle of the organization. - -The Sadler’s Wells Theatre is in Rosebery Avenue, in the Borough of -Islington, now a middle-class residential section of London, but once a -county borough. For nearly three hundred years, the site of the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre has been used for entertainment purposes. Several theatres -have stood on the site, and while the dance has always been prominent in -its history, everything from tight-rope and wire-walking exhibitions to -performing dogs and dance troupes has been seen there. - -It was in 1683 that a certain Thomas Sadler, who was, apparently, a -Highway Surveyor, lived there in what was then Clerkenwell, and found a -well, actually a spring, having medicinal properties, in his garden. It -soon was regarded as a holy well, with healing powers attributed to it. -Hither came the halt, the blind and the sick to be cured, and Mr. Sadler -determined to commercialize his property. On his lawn he built his Musik -House, a long room with a stage, orchestra and seats for those partakers -of the waters who desired refreshments as well during their -imbibing--and he also provided entertainment. The well is still there -today, preserved under the present theatre, but is no longer used, and -the theatre’s water supply is from the municipal mains. - -Rebuilt, largely by public subscription, the present theatre was opened -in 1931, alternating opera and Shakespeare with the Old Vic, but -eventually it became the exclusive home and base of the Sadler’s Wells -Opera Company and the Sadler’s Wells Ballet Company. In 1946, when -Ninette de Valois accepted the invitation of the Covent Garden Opera -Trust to move the Sadler’s Wells Ballet company to the Royal Opera -House, Covent Garden, another company (actually the revival of another -idea, the Sadler’s Wells Opera Ballet) was established at the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, and called the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. - -Here, in a fine, comfortable, modern theatre, I saw a fresh young -company, with seasoned artists, first-class productions, and some -first-rate dancing: a company I felt America should know. - -There was an extensive repertoire of modern works by Frederick Ashton, -Ninette de Valois, and the rising young John Cranko, and others. The -Ashton works include _Façade_, the Ravel _Valses Nobles et -Sentimentales_; _Les Rendez-Vous_, to Auber music arranged by Constant -Lambert; and the charming _Capriol Suite_, to the music by Philip -Heseltine (Peter Warlock), inspired by Arbeau’s _Orchesographie_. There -were three works by Andrée Howard: _Assembly Ball_, to the Bizet -Symphony in C; _Mardi Gras_; and _La Fête Etrange_. Celia Franka had an -interesting work, _Khadra_, to a Sibelius score, with charming Persian -miniature setting and costumes by Honor Frost. The young South African -John Cranko, who had been a member of the Covent Garden company in the -first New York season, had a number of extremely interesting works, -including _Sea Change_; and Ninette de Valois had revived her _The -Haunted Ballroom_, to a Geoffrey Toye score, and the Lambert-Boyce _The -Prospect Before Us_. There were also sound classics, including _Swan -Lake_, in the second act version. - -The company, under the direction of Ninette de Valois, had a fine -dancer, Peggy van Praagh, as ballet mistress. - -It occurred to me that, by adding new elements and reviving full length -works, it would be an excellent thing to bring the company to the United -States and Canada for a tour following upon that of the Covent Garden -company. - -I discussed the matter with Ninette de Valois and David Webster, both of -whom were favorable to the idea; and, since it was impossible for the -Covent Garden company to come over for a third tour at that time, they -urged me to give further consideration to the possibility. - -On my next visit to London, I went over matters in detail with George -Chamberlain, Clerk to the Governors of Sadler’s Wells, and himself the -opposite number at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre to David Webster at Covent -Garden. I found Chamberlain equally cooperative and helpful, despite the -fact he has a wide variety of interests and responsibilities, including -the Sadler’s Wells Opera Company, the Old Vic, and the Sadler’s Wells -School. We have become close friends. Following our initial conferences, -we went into a series of them, in conjunction with Ursula Moreton, at -the time “Madame’s” assistant at Sadler’s Wells, and Peggy van Praagh, -the company’s ballet mistress. - -As a result of these discussions, it was agreed to increase the size of -the dancing personnel of the company from thirty-two to thirty-six, and -to bring to North America a repertoire of fourteen ballets, including -one full-length work, and to add to the roster one or two more principal -dancers. - -Handshakes all round sealed the bargain, and a contract was signed for a -twenty-two week season for 1951-52. - -It was on my return to London, in March, 1951, that I saw the _première_ -of the first of their new productions, _Pineapple Poll_, a ballet freely -adapted from the Bab Ballad, “The Bumbeat Woman’s Story,” by W. S. -Gilbert, with music by Arthur Sullivan, arranged by a young Australian, -Charles Mackerras, a conductor at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre. The -scenery and costumes were by Osbert Lancaster, noted architectural -historian and cartoonist, and the choreography by John Cranko, who had -worked in collaboration with Lancaster and Mackerras. - -The work had its first performance at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre on the -13th March, 1951. The entire programme I saw that night was made up of -Cranko works, and I found myself seated before a quartet of works, -highly varied in content and style, all of which interested me, some, to -be sure, more than others. The evening commenced with Cranko’s _Sea -Change_. A tragic work in a free style, a character ballet whose story -was moving, but a ballet in which I never felt music and movement quite -came together. The score was the orchestral piece, _En Saga_, by Jan -Sibelius. - -The new work, _Pineapple Poll_, was the second ballet of the evening. I -was enchanted with it. I had always been a Sullivan admirer, and here -were pieces from nigh on to a dozen of the Sullivan operas, woven -together with great skill and brilliant orchestration into a marvelous -integral whole by Charles Mackerras, a complete score in itself, as if -it might have been directly composed for the ballet. I watched the -dancers closely, and it was impossible for me to imagine a finer -interpretation. Elaine Fifield, in the title role, was something more -than piquant; she was a genuine _ballerina_, with a fascinating sense of -character, her whole performance highly intelligent. There was no -“mugging,” no “cuteness”; on the contrary, there were both humor and -wit, and I noted she was a beautifully “clean” dancer. David Blair was a -compelling officer, and his “hornpipe” almost on points literally -brought the house down. Three other dancers impressed me: Sheillah -O’Reilly, Stella Claire and David Poole. Osbert Lancaster’s sets were -masterful, both as sets and as architecture. This, I decided, was a -Cranko masterpiece, and it impressed me in much the same way as some of -Massine’s gay ballets. - -_Pineapple Poll_ was followed by a delicate fantasy by Cranko, _Beauty -and the Beast_, an extended _pas de deux_, set to some of Ravel’s -_Mother Goose Suite_, and beautifully danced by Patricia Miller and -David Poole, who were, I learned, a pair of South Africans from the -Sadler’s Wells School. - -The closing piece on the programme was another new ballet by Cranko, -_Pastorale_, which had been given its first performance earlier in the -season, just before Christmas. It was the complete antithesis of the -Sullivan ballet. This was a Mozart work, his _Divertimento No. 2_, and -choreography was Mozartian in feeling. It was a work of genuine charm, -delicacy and real humor that revealed to me the excellence of a -half-dozen of the principals of the company: Elaine Fifield and Patricia -Miller, whom I have already mentioned, and young Svetlana Beriosova, -the daughter of Nicholas Beriosoff, a former member of the Ballet Russe -de Monte Carlo. Svetlana was born in Lithuania in 1932, and had been -brought to America by her parents in 1940, when, off and on, she toured -with them in the days of my management of the Massine company, and -frequently appeared as the little child, Clara, in _The Nutcracker_. Now -rapidly maturing, she had been seen by Ninette de Valois in a small -English ballet company, and had been taken into the Sadler’s Wells -organization. The three ballerinas had an equal number of impressive -partners in _Pastorale_: Pirmin Trecu, David Poole and David Blair. - -I decided that _Pineapple Poll_, _Pastorale_ and _Beauty and the Beast_ -must be included in the repertoire for America, and that the first of -these could be a tremendous American success, a sort of British _Gaîté -Parisienne_. - -In further conversations and conferences, I pressed the matter of a -full-length, full-evening ballet. The work I wanted was Delibes’ -_Sylvia_. This is the famous ballet first given in Paris in 1876. I -recognised there would be problems to be solved over the story, but the -Delibes score is enchanting, delicate, essentially French; and is it not -the score which Tchaikowsky himself both admired and appreciated? -Moreover, a lot of the music is very well-known and loved. - -We agreed upon _Sylvia_ in principle, but “Freddy” Ashton, who was to -stage it, was too occupied with other work, and it was at last agreed to -substitute a new production of Delibes’ _Coppélia_, in a full-length, -uncut version, never seen in North America except in a truncated form. -It was, however, difficult indeed to achieve any progress, since every -one was occupied with work of one kind or another, and continuously -busy. Moreover, Dame Ninette was away from London in Turkey and -Jugoslavia, lecturing, teaching, and checking on the national ballet -schools she has organized in each of those countries, at the request of -their respective governments, with the cooperation of the British -Council. - -It was not until three o’clock one morning several weeks later that we -all managed to get together at one time and place to have a conference -on repertoire. The following day I saw another performance at the Wells, -and was a bit distressed. It was clear to me that it was going to be -necessary to increase the size of the company still further, and also to -be more selective in the choice and arrangement of the repertoire. - -There followed a period of intense preparation on the part of the -entire organization, with all of its attendant helter-skelter, and with -day and night rehearsals. Meanwhile, I discussed and arranged for the -production of a two-act production or version of _The Nutcracker_. The -opening scene of this Tchaikowsky classic has always bothered me, -chiefly because I felt it was dull and felt that, during its course, -nothing really happened. There is, if the reader remembers, a rather -banal Christmas party at which little Clara receives a nutcracker as a -present, goes to bed without it, comes downstairs to retrieve it, and is -forthwith transported to fairyland. I felt we would be better off to -start with fairyland, and to omit the trying prologue. Moreover, I felt -certain the inclusion of the work in this form would give added weight -to the repertoire for the North American tour, since _The Nutcracker_ -and Tchaikowsky are always well-liked and popular, as the box-office -returns have proven. - -On this visit I spent three weeks in London, flying back to New York -only to return to London three weeks later, to watch the company and to -do what I could to speed up the preparations so that the company might -be ready for the Canadian opening of the tour, the date of which was -coming closer and closer with that inevitability such matters display. - -The Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet and its entire organization showed -really tremendous energy and application, and did everything possible to -prepare themselves to follow the great American success of their sister -company, something that was, admittedly, a very difficult thing to do. - -Just before the company’s departure for the North American continent, it -gave a four-week “American Festival Season” at Sadler’s Wells, -consisting of the entire repertoire to be seen on this side of the -Atlantic. This season included another Cranko work I have not before -mentioned. It is _Harlequin in April_, a ballet commissioned for the -Festival of Britain by the Arts Council. While I cannot say that it is -the sort of piece that appeals to audiences by reason of its clarity, -there is no gainsaying that it is a major creation and a greatly to be -commended experiment, and, withal, a successful one. The choreographic -work of John Cranko, in collaboration with the composer, Richard Arnell, -and the artist-designer, John Piper, it was that much desired thing in -ballet: a genuine collaboration between those individuals responsible -for each aspect of it. - -Although there was no attempt to use it as a plot idea, for it is in no -sense a “literary” work, the idea for _Harlequin in April_ presumably -stemmed from the following lines from T. S. Eliot’s _The Waste Land_: - - April is the cruellest month, breeding - Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing - Memory and desire, stirring - Dull roots with spring rain.... - -I could not attempt to explain the work which, to me, consists solely of -atmosphere. I liked Richard Arnell’s score; but the ballet, as a ballet, -is one I found myself unable to watch very many times. Perhaps the -simplest answer is that it is not my favorite type of ballet. -Nevertheless, the fact remains it is a work of genuine distinction and -was warmly praised by discriminating critics. - -The first nights of the two classical works came a week apart. -_Coppélia_ was the first, on the night of the 4th September. It was, -indeed, a fine addition to the repertoire. There were, in the Sadler’s -Wells tradition, several casts; the first performance had Elaine -Fifield, as Swanilda; David Blair, as Frantz; and David Poole, as -Coppelius. - -I was not too happy with the three settings designed by Loudon -Sainthill, the Australian designer who had a great success at the -Shakespeare Festival Theatre, always feeling they were not sufficiently -strong either in color or design. However, as the first full-length, -uncut version of the Delibes classic, it was notable, as it also was -notable for the liveliness of its entire production and the zest and joy -the entire company brought to it. Elaine Fifield was miraculously right -as Swanilda, in her own special piquant style; David Blair was a most -attractive Frantz; and David Poole was the first dignified Coppelius I -had ever seen, with a highly original approach to the character. -Alternate casts for _Coppélia_ included Svetlana Beriosova as a quite -different and very effective Swanilda, and Maryon Lane, another South -African dancer of fine talent, with a personality quite different from -the other two, as were Donald Britton’s Frantz and Stanley Holden’s -Coppelius. - -The 11th of September revealed the new _Nutcracker_ I have mentioned. -Actually, without the Prologue, it became a series of Tchaikowsky -_divertissements_, staged with skill and taste under, as it happened, -great pressure, by Frederick Ashton. It was a two-scene work, utilizing -the Snow Flake and the Kingdom of Sweets scenes. Outstanding, to my way -of thinking, were Beriosova as the Snow Queen; Fifield and Blair in the -grand _pas de deux_; Maryon Lane in the Waltz of the Flowers. The most -original divertissement was the _Danse Arabe_. - -Following the first performance of _The Nutcracker_, I gave a large -party in honor of both companies: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden -Company and that from the Sadler’s Wells Theatre, at Victory Hall. - -In this godspeed to the sister company, Margot Fonteyn was, as usual, -very much on the job, always the good colleague, wishing Fifield and -Beriosova the same success in the States and Canada as she and her -colleagues of the Covent Garden company had enjoyed. From Covent Garden -also came David Webster, Louis Yudkin, and Herbert Hughes, “Freddy” -Ashton, and Robert Irving, the genial and able musical director of the -Ballet at Covent Garden, all to speed the sister company on its way, to -give them tips on what to see, what to do, and also on what _not_ to do. - -The reader will, I am sure, realize what a difficult thing it was for -the sister company to follow in the footsteps and the triumphant -successes of the company from Covent Garden. A standard of excellence -and grandeur had been set by them eclipsing any previously established -standards that had existed for ballet on the North American continent. - -It is a moot question just what the public and the press of America -expected from the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. For more than a year, -in all publicity and promotion, with all the means at our command, we -emphasized the differences between the two companies: in personnel, in -principal artists, in repertoire. We also carefully pointed out the -likenesses between them: the same base of operations, the same school, -the same direction, the same moving spirit, the same ideals, the same -purpose. - -The success of the company throughout the entire breadth of the United -States and Canada magnificently proved the wisdom of their coming. The -list of cities played is formidable: Quebec, Ottawa, Montreal, Toronto, -Buffalo, Rochester, Cleveland, Detroit, East Lansing, Grand Rapids, -Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Omaha, Des Moines, Denver, Salt Lake City, -Seattle, Portland, Vancouver, B.C., San Francisco, San José, Sacramento, -Fresno, Bakersfield, Los Angeles, San Antonio, Waco, Houston, Dallas, -Shreveport, Little Rock, Springfield, Mo., Kansas City, Chicago, St. -Louis, Nashville, Knoxville, Atlanta, Birmingham, Montgomery, New -Orleans, Daytona Beach, Orlando, Miami, and Miami Beach, Columbia, -Greensboro, Durham, Raleigh, Norfolk, Richmond, Washington--where for -the first time ballet played in a proper theatre--Philadelphia, -Pittsburgh, Columbus, Toledo, Cincinnati, Indianapolis, Syracuse, Troy, -White Plains, Providence, Hartford, Boston, and New York City. Perhaps -the most characteristic tribute to the company came from Alfred -Frankenstein, the distinguished critic of the _San Francisco Chronicle_, -who wrote: “This may not be the largest ballet company in the world, but -it is certainly the most endearing.” There is no question that the -mounting demand for the quick return of the company on the part of local -managers and sponsoring organizations and groups throughout the country -is another proof of the warmth of their welcome when they next come. - -The musical side of the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet revealed the same -high standards of the organization, under the direction of that splendid -young British conductor, John Lanchbery. Lanchbery, a thorough and -distinguished musician, not only was a fine conductor, but an extremely -sensitive ballet conductor, which is not necessarily the same thing. So -admired was he by the orchestra that, in San Francisco, the players -presented him with a lovely gift in a token of appreciation. - -During the entire association with the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet -there was always the warm cooperation of George Chamberlain, and the -fine executive ability and personal charm of their tour manager, Douglas -Morris. - -It is my sincere hope that, following the season 1953-54, they will be -able to make an even more extended tour of this continent. By that time, -some of the company’s younger members will have become more mature, and -the repertoire will have been strengthened and increased by the -accretion of two years. - -There is the seemingly eternal charge against ballet dancers. They are -either “too young” or else “too old.” The question I am forced to ask in -this connection is: What is the appropriate age for the personnel of a -ballet company, for a dancer? My answer is one the reader may anticipate -from previous references to the subject in this book: Artistry knows and -recognizes no age on the stage. Spiritually the same is true in life -itself. - -It is, of course, possible that, by that time, there may be some who -will refrain from referring to the members of the company as “juniors,” -and will realize that they are aware of the facts of life. Three years -will have elapsed since their first visit. During all this time they -will have been dancing regularly five or six times a week; will have -behind them not only London successes, but their Edinburgh Festival and -African triumphs as well. - -At the close of the American Festival Season in Rosebery Avenue, the -company entrained for Liverpool, there to embark in the _Empress of -France_. It was a gay crossing, but less gay than had been anticipated. -Originally, the _Empress_ was to have carried H.R.H. Princess Elizabeth, -and her husband, the Duke of Edinburgh, on their Royal Visit to the -Dominion of Canada. The ship’s owners, the Canadian Pacific Steamship -Company, had constructed a specially equipped theatre on the top deck, -where the company was to have given two performances for the Royal -couple. H.R.H., Princess Margaret is the Honorary President of the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet, and there is considerable royal interest -in ballet. Unfortunately, the serious illness of the King, and his -operation, necessitated a last moment change of plans on the part of -Princess Elizabeth and her husband, who made their crossing by plane. At -the last moment before sailing, the theatre was dismantled and removed. - -Two members of my staff made a long journey down the St. Lawrence, to -clamber aboard the _Empress_ at daybreak and to travel up the river with -the company to Quebec, the opening point of the tour. I had gone on to -Quebec to greet them, as had our American staff and orchestra from New -York. This was the same orchestra, the “American Sadler’s Wells -Orchestra,” that had constituted the splendid musical side of the Covent -Garden company’s two American seasons. There was no cutting of corners, -no sparing of expense to maintain the same high standards of production. -For those with an interest in figures, it might be noted that the -orchestra alone cost in excess of $10,000 weekly. - -Heading the company, and remaining with it until it was well on its way, -were Dame Ninette de Valois and George Chamberlain, with Peggy van -Praagh as “Madame’s” assistant, and ballet-mistress for the entire tour. - -There were three days of concentrated rehearsal and preparation before -the first performance in Quebec. Some difficulties had to be overcome, -for Quebec City is not the ideal place for ballet production. Lacking a -real theatre or opera house, a cinema had to be utilized, a house with a -stage far from adequate for a theatre spectacle, an orchestra pit far -too small for an orchestra the size of ours, and cramped quarters all -around. Nevertheless, a genuine success was scored. - -Following the Quebec engagement, the company moved to Ottawa by special -train--this time the “Sadler’s Wells Theatre Special.” The night journey -to Ottawa provided many of the company with their first experience of -sleeping-car travel of the American-type Pullman. Passing through one of -the cars on the way to my drawing-room before the train pulled out, I -overheard one of the _corps de ballet_ girls behind her green curtains, -obviously snuggling down for the night, sigh and say: “Oh, isn’t it just -lovely!... Just like in the films!” - -Ottawa was in its gayest attire, preparing for the Royal visit. The -atmosphere was festive. The Governor General and the Viscountess -Alexander of Tunis entertained the entire company at a reception at -Government House, flew afterwards to Montreal officially to welcome the -Royal couple, and flew back to attend the opening performance, as the -official representative of H.M. the King. Hundreds were turned away from -the Ottawa performances, and a particularly gay supper was given the -company after the final performance by the High Commissioner to Canada -for Great Britain, Sir Hugh and Lady Clutterbuck. - -Montreal, with its mixed French and English population, gave the company -a wholehearted acceptance and warm enthusiasm, by no means second to -that accorded the sister company. - -So the tour went, breaking box-office records for ballet in many cities, -including Buffalo, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Seattle, Portland, Vancouver -(where, for the eight performances, there was not a seat to be had four -weeks before the company’s arrival), Los Angeles, the entire state of -Florida, and Washington, where, as I have said, I had been successful in -securing a genuine theatre, Loew’s Capitol, and where, for the first -time ballet was seen by the inhabitants of our national capital with all -the theatrical appurtenances that ballet requires: scenery, lights, -atmosphere, instead of the mausoleum-like Constitution Hall, with its -bare platform backed only by a tapestry of the Founding Fathers. - -So the tour went for twenty-two weeks in a long, transcontinental -procession of cumulative success, with the finale in New York City. -Here, because of the unavailability of the Metropolitan Opera House, -since the current opera season had not been completed, it was necessary -to go to a film house, the Warner Theatre, the former Strand, where -Fokine and Anatole Bourman had, in the early days of movie house -“presentations,” staged weekly ballet performances, sowing the seeds for -present-day ballet appreciation. - -The Warner Theatre was far from ideal for ballet presentation, being -much too long for its width, giving from the rear the effect of looking -at the stage through reversed opera glasses or binoculars. Also, from an -acoustical point of view, the house left something to be desired as it -affected the sound of the exceptionally large orchestra. But it was the -only nearly suitable house available, and Ninette de Valois, who had -returned to the States for the Boston engagement, and had remained -through the early New York performances, found no fault with the house. - -Among the many problems in connection with the presentation of ballet, -none is more ticklish than that of determining on an opening night -programme in any metropolitan center, particularly New York. Many -elements have to be weighed one against the other. Should the choice be -one of a selection of one-act ballets, there is the necessity for -balancing classical and modern and the order in which they should be -given, after they have actually been decided on. In the case of the -Sadler’s Wells companies, featuring, as they do, full-length works -occupying an entire evening in performance, there is the eternal -question: which one? - -The importance of the first impression created cannot be overrated. More -often than not, in arriving at a decision of this kind, we listen to the -advice of everyone in the organization. All suggestions are carefully -considered, and hours are spent in discussion and the exchange of ideas, -and the reasons supporting those ideas. - -What was good in London may quite well be fatal in New York. What New -York would find an ideal opening programme might be utterly wrong for -Chicago. San Francisco’s highly successful and popular opening night -programme well might turn out to be Los Angeles’ poison. - -Whatever the decision may be, it is always arrived at after long and -careful thought; and, when reached, it is the best product of many -minds. It usually turns out to be wrong. - -If, as is often the case, the second night’s programme turns out to be -another story, there is the almost inevitable query on the part of the -critics: “Why didn’t you do this last night?” Many of them seem to be -certain that there must have been personal reasons involved in the -decision, some sort of private and individually colored favoritism being -exercised.... - -I smile and agree. - -The only possible answer is: “You’re right.... I’m wrong.” - - - - -Epilogue: Unborn Tomorrow - - -In the minds of many I am almost always associated with ballet more -frequently than I am with any other activity in the world of -entertainment. - -This simply is not true. - -While it is true that more than thirty years of my life have been -intensely occupied with the presentation of dance on the North American -continent, these thirty-odd years of preoccupation with the dance have -neither narrowed my horizon nor limited my interests. I have -simultaneously carried on my avowed determination, arrived at and -clarified soon after I landed as an immigrant lad from Pogar: to bring -music to the masses. As an impresario I am devoted to my concert -artists. - -The greatest spiritual satisfaction I have had has always sprung from -great music, and it has been and is my joy to present great violinists, -pianists, vocalists; to extend the careers of conductors; to give -artists of the theatre a wider public. All these have been and are -leaders in their various fields. My eyes and ears are ever open to -discover fresh new talents in this garden for nurturing and development. -At no time in the history of so-called civilization and civilized man -have they been more necessary. - -Throughout my career my interests have embraced the lyric and -“legitimate” theatres: witness the Russian Opera Company, the German -Opera Company, American operetta seasons, _revues_ such as the Spanish -_Cablagata_, and Katherine Dunham’s Caribbean compilations, as but two -of many; the Habima Theatre, in 1926, the Moscow Art Players, under -Michael Tchekhoff, in 1935, as representative of the latter. - -These activities have been extended, with increasing interest towards a -widening of cultural exchanges with the rest of the world: witness the -most recent highly successful season of the Madeleine Renault-Jean Louis -Barrault repertory company from Paris. For two seasons, the -distinguished British actor, director, and playwright, Emlyn Williams, -under my management, has brought to life, from coast to coast, the -incomparable prose of Charles Dickens in theatrical presentations that -have fascinated both ear and eye, performances that stemmed from a rare -combination of talent, dexterity, love, and intelligence. - -I am able to say, very frankly, that I am one impresario who has managed -artists in all fields. - -All these things, and more, have been done. For what they are worth, -they have been written in the pages of the history of the arts in our -time. They have become a part of the record. - -So it will be seen that only one part of my life has been concerned with -ballet. To list all the fine concert artists and companies I have -managed and manage would take up too much space. - -It is quite within the bounds of possibility that I shall do a third -book, devoted to life among the concert artists I have managed. It -could, I am sure, make interesting reading. - -If art is to grow and prosper, if the eternal verities are to be -preserved in these our times and into that unborn tomorrow which springs -eternally from dead yesterdays, there must be no cessation of effort, no -diminution of our energies. Thirty-odd years of dead yesterdays have -served only to whet my appetite, to stimulate my eagerness for what lies -round the corner and my desire to increase my contribution to those -things that matter in the cultural and spiritual life of that unborn -tomorrow wherein lies our future. - -I shall try to outline some of the plans and hopes I have in mind. -Before I do so, however, I should like to make what must be, however -heartfelt, inadequate acknowledgement to those who have so generously -helped along the way. If I were to list all of them, this chapter would -become a catalogue of names. To all of those who are not mentioned, my -gratitude is none the less sincere and genuine. Above all, no slight is -intended. Space permits only the singling out of a few. - -The year in which these lines are written has been singularly rich, -rewarding, and happy: climaxed as it was by the production and release -of the motion-picture film, _Tonight We Sing_, based on some experiences -and aspects of my life. If the film does nothing else, I hope it -succeeds in underlining the difference, in explaining the vast gulf that -separates the mere booker or agent from what, for want of a better term, -must be called an impresario, since it is a word that has been fully -embraced into the English language. Impresario stems from the Italian -_impresa_: an undertaking; indirectly it gave birth to that now archaic -English word “emprise,” literally a chivalrous enterprise. I can only -regard the discovery, promotion, presentation of talent, the financing -of it, the risk-taking, as the “emprise” of an “impresario.” - -The presentation of this film has been accompanied by tributes and -honors for which I am deeply and humbly grateful and which I cherish and -respect beyond my ability to express. - -None of these heights could have been scaled, none of these successes -attained, without the help, encouragement, and personal sacrifice of my -beloved wife, Emma. Her wise counsel in music, literature, theatre, and -the dance all stem from her deep knowledge as a lady of culture, an -artist and a musician, and from her studies at the Leningrad -Conservatory, her rich experience in the world’s cultural activities. -Her sacrifices are those great ones of the patient, understanding wife, -who, through the years, has had to endure, and has endured without -complaint, the loneliness of days and nights on end alone, when my -activities have taken me on frequent long trips about the world at a -moment’s notice, to the complete disruption of any normal family life. - -To my wife also goes my grateful thanks for restraining me from -undertakings doomed in advance to failure, as well as for encouraging me -in my determination to venture into pastures new and untried. - -At the head of that staff of loyal associates which carries on the -multifarious details of the organization on which depends the -fulfillment of much of what has been recited in these pages, is one to -whom my deepest thanks are due. She is that faithful and indispensable -companion of failures and successes, Mae Frohman. - -She is known intimately to all in this world of music and dance. -Without her aid I could not have been what I am today. It is impossible -for me to give the reader any real idea of the sacrifices she has made -for the success of the enterprises this book records: the sleepless -nights and days; the readiness, at an instant’s notice, to depart for -any part of the world to “trouble-shoot,” to make arrangements, to -settle disputes, to keep the wheels in motion when matters have come to -a dead center. - -The devoted staff I have mentioned, and on whom I rely much more than -they realize, receives, as is its due, my deep gratitude and -appreciation. I cannot fail to thank my daughter Ruth for her -understanding, her sympathy, her spiritual support. With all the changes -in her personal life and with her own problems, there has never been a -word of complaint. Never has she added her hardships to mine. It has -been her invariable custom to present her happiest side to me: to -comfort, to understand. In her and my two lovely grandchildren, I find a -comfort not awarded every traveller through this tortuous vale, and I -want to extend my sincere gratitude to her. - -It would not be possible for any one to have attained these successes -without the very great help of others. In rendering my gratitude to my -staff, I must point out that this applies not only to those who are a -part of my organization as these lines are written, but to those who -have been associated with me in the past, in the long, upward struggle. -We are still friends, and my gratitude to them and my admiration for -them is unbounded. - -During the many years covered in this account, my old friend and -colleague, Marks Levine, and I have shared one roof businesswise, and -one world spiritually and artistically. Without his warm friendship, his -subtle understanding, his wholehearted cooperation, and his rare sense -of humor, together with the help of his colleagues, and that of O. O. -Bottorf and his colleagues, many of the successes of a lifetime might -not have been accomplished. - -At this point in my life, I look with amazement at the record of an -immigrant lad from Pogar, arriving here practically penniless, and ask -myself: where in the world could this have happened save here? My -profoundest thanks go to this adopted country which has done so much for -me. Daily I breathe the prayer: “God bless this country!” - -In all that has been done and accomplished, and with special reference -to all of these wide-flung ballet tours, none of it could have been done -singlehanded. In nearly every country and in nearly every important -city there is a person who is materially responsible for the success of -the local engagement. Local engagements cumulatively make or break a -tour. - -This person is the local manager: that local resident who is often the -cultural mentor of the community of which he is an important member. It -is he who makes it possible for the members of his community to hear the -leading concert artists and musical organizations and to see and enjoy -ballet at its best. In these days of increasing encroachment on the part -of mechanical, push-button entertainment, it is the local manager to -whom the public must look for the preservation of the “live” culture: -the singer, the instrumentalist, the actor, the dancer, the painter, the -orchestra. - -In the early days of my managerial activities, when I did not have an -office of my own, merely desk space in the corner of a room in the -Chandler Building, in West Forty-Second Street, I shall never forget the -“daddy” of all the local managers, the late L. H. Behymer, of Los -Angeles, who traveled three thousand miles just to see what sort of -creature it was, this youngster who was bringing music to the masses at -the old New York Hippodrome. A life-long bond was formed between us, and -“Bee” and his hard-working wife, throughout their long and honorable -careers as purveyors of the finest in musical and dance art to the -Southwest, remained my loyal and devoted friends. - -This applies equally to all those workers in the vineyard, from East to -West, from North to South, in Europe and South America. It is the -friendly, personal cooperation of the local managers that helps make it -possible to present so successfully artists and companies across the -continent and the world we know. It is my very great pleasure each year, -at the close of their annual meetings in New York, to meet them, rub -shoulders, clasp hands, and discuss mutual problems. - -The music and ballet lovers of the United States and Canada owe these -people a debt; and when readers across the breadth of this great -continent watch these folk--men and women, often helped out by their -wives, their husbands, their children, striving to provide the finest -available in the music and dance arts for their respective -communities--do not imagine that they are necessarily accumulating -wealth by their activities. More often than not, they work late and long -for an idea and an ideal for very little material gain. - -Remember, if you will, that it is the industrious and enlightened local -manager, the college dean, the theatre manager, the public-spirited -women’s clubs and philanthropic organizations that make your music and -dance possible. - -In the arts as in life, amidst the blaze of noon there are watchers for -the dawn, awaiting the unborn tomorrow. I am of them. This book may, -conceivably, have something of historical value in portraying events and -persons, things and colleagues who have been, at one and the same time, -motivating factors in the development and growth and appreciation of the -dance in our sector of the western world. Though it has dealt, for the -most part, with an era that is receding, I have tried not to look back -either with nostalgia or regret. At the same time, I have tried not to -view the era through rosy spectacles. As for tomorrow, I am optimistic. -Without an ingrained and deeply rooted optimism much of what this book -records could not have come to pass. Despite the lucubrations of certain -Cassandras, I find myself unable to share their pessimism for the fate -of culture in our troubled times. We shall have our ups and downs, as we -have had throughout the history of man. - -I hold stubbornly to the tenet that man cannot live by bread alone, and -that those things of the spirit, those joys that delight the heart and -mind and soul of man, are indestructible. On the other hand, it is by no -means an easy trick to preserve them. While I agree with Ecclesiastes -that “the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart -of fools is in the house of mirth,” I nevertheless insist that it is the -supreme task of those who would profess or attain unto wisdom to exert -their last ounce of strength to foster, preserve, and encourage the -widest possible dissemination of the cultural heritage we possess. - -As these closing pages are written, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet from the -Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, is poised on the threshold of its -third North American visit, with a larger company and a more varied -repertoire than ever before. The latter, in addition to works I have -noted in these pages, includes the new Coronation ballet, _Homage to the -Queen_, staged by Frederick Ashton, to a specially commissioned score by -the young English composer, Malcolm Arnold, with setting and costumes by -Oliver Messel; _The Shadow_, with choreography by John Cranko, scenery -and costumes by John Piper, and the music is Erno von Dohnanyi’s _Suite -in F Sharp Minor_, which had its first performance at the Royal Opera -House, Covent Garden, on 3rd March, 1953. Included, of course, is the -new full-length production of _Le Lac des Cygnes_, with an entirely new -production by Leslie Hurry; _The Sleeping Beauty_; _Sylvia_; _Giselle_, -in an entirely new setting by James Bailey; _Les Patineurs_; a revival -of Ashton’s _Don Juan_; and Ravel’s _Daphnis and Chloe_, staged by -Ashton, making use of the full choral score for the first time in ballet -in America. - -Yet another impending dance venture and yet an additional aspect of -dance pioneering will be the first trans-continental tour of the Agnes -de Mille Dance Theatre. This is a project that has been in my mind for -more than a decade: the creation of an American dance theatre, with this -country’s most outstanding dance director at its head. For years I have -been an admirer of Agnes de Mille and the work she has done for ballet -in America, and for the native dance and dancer. In this, as in all my -activities, I have not solicited funds nor sought investors. - -It is the first major organization to be established completely under my -aegis, for which I have taken sole responsibility, financially and -productionwise. It has long been my dream to form a veritable American -dance company, one which could exhibit the qualities which make our -native dancers unique: joy in sheer movement, wit, exuberance, a sharp -sense of drama. - -It was in 1948 that Agnes and I began the long series of discussions -directed toward the creation of a completely new and “different” -company, one that would place equal accents on “Dance” and “Theatre.” - -For the new company Agnes has devised a repertoire ranging from the -story of an Eighteenth-Century philanderer through Degas-inspired -comments on the Romantic Era, to scenes from _Paint Your Wagon_, and -_Brigadoon_. Utilizing spoken dialogue and song, the whole venture moves -towards something new under the sun--both in Dance and in Theatre. - -The settings and costumes have been designed and created by Peggy Clark -and Motley; with the orchestrations and musical arrangements by Trudi -Rittman. - -With the new organization, Agnes will have freedom to experiment in what -may well turn out to be a new form of dance entertainment, setting a -group of theatre dances both balletic and otherwise, with her own -personalized type of dance movement, and a group of ballad singers, all -in a distinctly native idiom. - -In New York City, on the 15th January, 1954, I plan to inaugurate a -trans-continental tour of the Roland Petit Ballet Company, from Paris, -with new creations, and the quite extraordinary Colette Marchand, as his -chief _ballerina_. - -In February, 1954, I shall extend my international dance activities to -Japan, when I shall bring that nation’s leading dance organization, the -Japanese Dancers and Musicians, for their first American tour. With this -fine group of artists, I shall be able to present America for the first -time with a native art product of the late Seventeenth century that is -the theatre of the commoner, stemming from Kabuki, meaning -“song-dance-skill.” - -The autumn of 1954 will see a still further extension of my activities, -with the introduction of the first full Spanish ballet to be seen on the -North American continent. - -We have long been accustomed to the Spanish dancer and the dance -concerts of distinguished Iberian artists; but never before have -Americans been exposed to Spanish ballet in its full panoply, with a -large and numerous company, complete with scenery, costumes, and a large -orchestra. It has long been my dream to present such an organization. - -At last it has been realized, when I shall send from coast to coast the -Antonio Ballet Espagnol, which I saw and greatly admired on my visit to -Granada in the summer of 1953. - -On the purely musical side, there is a truly remarkable chamber ensemble -from Italy, which will also highlight the season of 1954. It is I -Musici, an ensemble of twelve players, ranging through the string -family, including the ancient _viola di gamba_, and sustained by the -_cymbalon_; and specializing in early Italian music, for the greater -part. This organization has the high and warm recommendation of Arturo -Toscanini, who vastly admires them and their work. - -I have reserved, in the manner of the host holding back the most -delectable items of a feast until the last, two announcements as -climactic. - -I have concluded arrangements with England’s Old Vic to present on the -North American continent their superlative new production of -Shakespeare’s _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_, staged by Michael Benthall, -with really magnificent settings and costumes by James Bailey. - -The cast will include Robert Helpmann, as Oberon, and Moira Shearer, as -Titania, with outstanding and distinguished British actors in the other -roles; and, utilizing the full Mendelssohn score, the production will -have a ballet of forty, choreographed by Robert Helpmann. - -The production will be seen at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, -in mid-September, 1954, for a season, to be followed by a short tour of -the leading cities of the United States and Canada. - -This will, I feel, be one of the most significant artistic productions -to be revealed across the continent since the days of Max Reinhardt’s -_The Miracle_. It gives me great personal satisfaction to be able to -offer this first of the new productions of London’s famous Old Vic. - -The other choice tid-bit to which I feel American dance lovers will look -forward with keen anticipation is the coast-to-coast tour of London’s -Festival Ballet with Toumanova as guest star. - -The Festival Ballet was founded by Anton Dolin for the British Festival, -under the immediate patronage of H.H. Princess Marie Louise. Dr. Julian -Braunsweg is its managing director. - -It has grown steadily in stature and is today one of Europe’s best known -ballet companies. Under the artistic direction of Anton Dolin it has -appeared with marked success for several seasons at the Royal Festival -Hall, London; has toured Britain, all western Europe; and, in the spring -of 1953, gave a highly successful two weeks’ season in Montreal and -Toronto, where it received as high critical approval as ever accorded -any ballet company in Canada. - -There is a company of eighty, and a repertoire of evenly balanced -classics and modern creations, including, among others, the following: a -full-length _Nutcracker_, _Giselle_, _Petrouchka_, _Swan Lake_, (_Act -I_), _Le Beau Danube_, _Schéhérazade_, _Symphonic Impressions_, _Pas de -Quatre_, _Bolero_, _Black Swan_, _Vision of Marguerite_, _Symphony for -Fun_, _Pantomime Harlequinade_, _Don Quixote_, _Les Sylphides_, _Le -Spectre de la Rose_, _Prince Igor_, _Concerto Grosso_. - -This international exchange of ballet companies is one of the bulwarks -of mutual understanding and sympathy. It is a source of deep -gratification to me that I have been instrumental in bringing the -companies of the Sadler’s Wells organization, the Ballet of the Paris -Opera, and others to North America, as it is that I have been able to be -of service in arranging for the two visits of the New York City Ballet -to London. It is through the medium of such exchanges, presenting no -language barriers, but offering beauty as a common bond, that we are -able to bridge those hideous chasms so often caused by misunderstood -and, too often, unwise and thoughtlessly chosen words. - -In unborn tomorrows I hope to extend these exchanges to include not only -Europe, but our sister republics to the South, and the Far East, with -whom now, more than ever, cultural rapport is necessary. We are now -reaching a time in America when artistic achievement has become -something more than casual entertainment, although, in my opinion, -artistic endeavor must never lose sight of the fact that entertainment -there must be if that public so necessary to the well-being of any art -is not to be alienated. The role of art and the artist is, through -entertainment, to stimulate and, through the creative spirit, to help -the audience renew its faith and courage in beauty, in universal ideals, -in love, in a richer and fuller imaginative life. Then, and only then, -can the audience rise above the mundane, the mediocre, the monotonous. - -During the thirty-odd years I have labored on the American musical and -balletic scene, I have seen a growth of interest and appreciation that -has been little short of phenomenal. Yet I note, with deep regret, that -today the insecurities of living for art and the artist have by no means -lessened. Truth hinges solely on the harvest, and how may that harvest -be garnered with no security and no roof? - -More than once in the pages of this book I have underlined and lamented -the passing of the great, generous Maecenas, the disappearance, through -causes that require no reiteration, of such figures as Otto H. Kahn, -whose open-hearted and open-pursed generosity contributed so inestimably -to the lyric and balletic art of dead yesterday. I have detailed at some -length the government support provided for the arts by our financially -less fortunate cousins of Great Britain, South America, and Europe. The -list of European countries favoring the arts could be extended into a -lengthy catalogue of nations ranging from Scandinavia to the -Mediterranean, on both sides of that unhappy screen, the “Iron Curtain.” - -Here in the United States, the situation becomes steadily grimmer. -Almost every artistic enterprise worth its salt and scene painter, its -bread and choreographer, its meat and conductor, is in the perpetual -necessity of sitting on the pavement against the wall, hat in hand, -chanting the pitiful wail: “Alms, for the love of Art.” Vast quantities -of words are uttered, copious tears of regret are shed about and over -this condition at art forums, expensive cocktail parties, and on the -high stools of soda fountains. A great deal is said, but very little is -done. - -The answer, in my opinion, will not be found until the little voices of -the soda fountain, the forums, the cocktail parties, unite into one -superbly unanimous chorus and demand a government subsidy for the arts. -I am not so foolish as to insist that government subsidy is the complete -and final cure for all the ills to which the delicate body is heir; but -it can provide, in a great national theatre, a roof for the creative and -performing artists of ballet, opera, theatre, and music. More than -anything else, the American ballet artist needs a roof, under which to -live, to create, and hold his being in security. Such a step would be -the only positive one in the right direction. - -It is only through governmentally subsidized theatres, or one type of -subsidy or another, that ballet, opera, music, the legitimate theatre -may become a living and vital force in the everyday life of the American -people, may belong to the masses, instead of being merely a place of -entertainment for a relatively small section of our population. We have -before us the example of the success of government subsidy in the -British Arts Council and in the subsidized theatres of other European -countries. How can we profit by these examples? - -A national opera house is the first step. Such a house should not, in my -opinion, be in New York. It should, because of the size of the country, -be much more centrally situated than in our Eastern metropolis. Since -the area of Great Britain is so much smaller than the United States, our -planning of government subsidy would, of necessity, be on a much larger -scale. In many of the countries where ballet and music have the benefit -of government subsidy, government ownership of industry is an accepted -practice. Yet the government theatre subsidy is managed without stifling -private enterprise. - -I am quite aware that securing a national subsidy for the arts in this -country will be a long, difficult and painful process. It will require, -before all else, a campaign of education. We must have an increasing -world-consciousness, a better understanding of our fellow humans. We -must develop a nation of well-educated and, above all, thinking people, -who will do everything in their power to make a full-rounded life -available to every man and woman in the nation. - -Only during the days of the WPA, in the ’30’s, has the United States -government ever evinced any particular interest in the arts. I cannot -hope that the present materialistic attitude of our lawmakers will -cause them to look with much favor on things of the spirit. The attitude -of our government towards the arts is noteworthy only for its complete -lack of interest in them or care for them. In the arts, and notably in -the ballet, it has the most formidable means and potential material for -cultural propaganda. The stubbornness with which it insists upon -ignoring the only aspect of American cultural life that would really -impress and influence Europe is something that is, to me, incredible. It -is a rather sad picture. How long will it take us in our educational -process to understand that in the unborn tomorrow we, as a nation, will -be remembered only through our art rather than through our materialism -and our gadgets? - -Meanwhile, excellent and highly valuable assistance is being given by -such Foundations as the Ford Foundation and the Rockefeller Foundation. -The latter’s contribution to the New York City Center has been of -inestimable help to that organization. - -Certain municipalities, through such groups as the San Francisco Art -Commission, financed on the basis of four mills on the dollar from the -city tax revenues, the Art Commission of the County of Los Angeles, the -City of Philadelphia, among others, are making generous and valuable -contributions to the musical and artistic life of their communities. - -There are still to be mentioned those loyal and generous friends of the -arts who have contributed so splendidly to the appeals of orchestras -throughout the country, of the Metropolitan Opera Company, and the New -York City Center. - -But this, I fear, is not enough. The genuinely unfortunate aspect of the -overall situation is that we are so pitifully unable to supply an outlet -for our own extraordinary talent. For example, at an audition I attended -in Milan, out of the twenty-eight singers heard, sixteen of them were -Americans. This is but further evidence that our American talent is -still forced to go to Europe to expand, to develop, and to exhibit their -talents; in short, to get a hearing. - -In Italy today, with a population of approximately 48,000,000, there are -now some seventy-two full-fledged opera companies. - -In pre-war Germany with an approximate population of 70,000,000, there -were one hundred forty-two opera houses, all either municipally or -nationally subsidized. - -Any plan for government subsidy of the arts must be a carefully thought -out and extensive one. It should start with a roof, beginning slowly -and expanding gradually, until, from beneath that roof-tree, companies -and organizations would deploy throughout the entire country and, -eventually, the world. Eventually, in addition to ballet, music, opera, -and theatre, it should embrace all the creative arts. Education in the -arts must be included in the subsidization, so that the teacher, the -instructor, the professor may be regarded as equal in importance to -doctors, lawyers, engineers, and politicians, instead of being regarded -as failures, as they so often regrettably are. - -Until the unborn tomorrow dawns when we can find leaders whose -understanding of these things is not drowned out by the thunder of -material prosperity and the noise of jostling humanity, leaders with the -vision and the foresight to see the benefit to the country and the world -from this kind of thing, and who, in addition to understanding and -knowing these things, possess the necessary courage and the -indispensable stamina to see things through, we shall have to continue -to fight the fight, to grasp any friendly hand, and, I fear, continue to -watch the sorry spectacle of the arts squatting in the market-place, -basket in lap, begging for alms for beauty. - -So long as I am spared, I shall never cease to present the best in all -the arts, so that the great public may have them to enjoy and cherish; -so that the artists may be helped to attain some degree of that security -they so richly deserve, against that day when an enlightened nation can -provide them a home and the security that goes with it. - -With all those who are of it, and all those whose lives are made a -little less onerous, a little more tolerable, to whom it brings glimpses -of a brighter unborn tomorrow, I repeat my united hurrah: Three Cheers -for Good Ballet! - - - - -INDEX - - -Abbey Theatre (Dublin), 217 - -Academy of Music (Brooklyn), 81 - -Adam, Adolphe, 246 - -Adelphi Theatre (New York), 158 - -_Aglae or The Pupil of Love_, 157 - -Aldrich, Richard, 23 - -_Alegrias_, 48, 55, 56 - -_Aleko_, 156, 172 - -Alexander of Tunis, Viscount and Viscountess, 307 - -Alhambra Theatre (London), 111 - -_Alice in Wonderland_, 318 - -_Alicia Markova, Her Life and Art_, 205 - -All Star Imperial Russian Ballet, 80, 87 - -Alonso, Alicia, 152 - -_Ambassador_ (a publication), 231 - -Ambassador Hotel (Los Angeles), 249 - -Amberg, George, 112 - -American Ballet, 136, 158 - -American Federation of Musicians, 62 - -_Amoun and Berenice_, 102 - -André, Grand Duke of Russia, 69 - -Andreu, Mariano, 129, 135 - -Andreyev, Leonide, 285 - -_Antic, The_, 76 - -_Antiche Danze ed Arie_, 150 - -Antonio Ballet Espagnol, 317 - -_Aphrodite_, 93 - -_Apollon Musagète_, 158, 172 - -_Apparitions_, 236, 239, 270, 273 - -_Apres-Midi d’un Faune, L’_ (_Afternoon of a Faun_), 78, 115 - -Arbeau, Thoinot, 298 - -Archives Internationales de la Danse, 49 - -Arensky, Anton, 102, 121 - -Argentina, 47 - -Argentinita (Encarnacion Lopez), 53-58, 135, 139, 204 - -Argyle, Pearl, 78 - -Armstrong, John, 239 - -Arnell, Richard, 302, 303 - -Arnold, Malcolm, 315 - -Art Commission of the County of Los Angeles, 321 - -Asafieff, Boris, 96, 98 - -Ashcroft, Peggy, 222 - -Ashton, Frederick, 74, 78, 79, 136, 137, 141, 201, 220, 230, 237, 238, -239, 240, 246, 247, 254, 258, 264, 268-272, 277, 278, 279, 283, 285, -290, 292, 296, 298, 301, 303, 304, 315, 316 - -Astafieva, Seraphine, 200, 201, 255 - -Atlee, Clement, 221 - -_Aubade_, 129 - -_Aubade Heroique_, 274, 278 - -_Assembly Ball_, 298 - -Auber, Francois, 270, 273, 298 - -Auditorium Theatre (Chicago), 114 - -Auric, Georges, 121, 122 - -_Aurora’s Wedding_, 121, 152 - -Avril Kentridge Medal, 295 - -Aveline, Albert, 215 - -_Azayae_, 19 - - -_Bacchanale_, 135 - -Bach, Johann Sebastian, 129, 270, 278 - -_Bahiana_, 60 - -Bailey, James, 246, 316, 317 - -_Baiser de la Fée_ (_The Fairy’s Kiss_), 136 - -Bakst, Leon, 76, 118, 123 - -_Bal, Le_ (_The Ball_), 122 - -_Balabile_, 273 - -Balakireff, Mily, 94, 121 - -Balanchine, George (Georgi Balanchivadze), 65, 70, 107, 110, 121, 129, -136, 140, 142, 143, 157, 158, 161, 168, 172, 201, 215 - -Baldina, Maria, 85 - -Balieff, Nikita, 49, 111 - -Ballet and Opera Russe de Paris, 108, 109 - -Ballet Associates in America, 174, 195 - -Ballet Benevolent Fund, 277 - -Ballet Club (London), 78, 79, 106, 201, 217, 269 - -_Ballet Go-Round_, 205 - -_Ballet Imperial_, 256 - -Ballet Intime, 90 - -_Ballet Mecanique_, 172 - -Ballet Rambert, 79, 217, 225, 226, 269 - -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, 59, 103, 107, 110, 125, 129, 130, 134, -135, 136, 137, 139, 140, 143, 145, 150, 151, 153, 154, 157, 168, 200, -201, 202, 204, 206, 269, 301 - -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo (special reference; de Basil), 105, 106, 116 - -Ballets 1933, Les, 110, 158, 168 - -Ballet Theatre Foundation, 179 - -Ballet Theatre (known in Europe as “American National Ballet Theatre”), -81, 90, 103, 146, 147-182, 183, 184, 190, 193, 202, 204, 206, 225, 246 - -_Balustrade_, 142 - -Bandbox Theatre (New York), 76 - -Banks, Margaret, 184 - -_Barbara_, 50 - -Barbiroli, Sir John, 226 - -Bardin, Micheline, 215 - -Baronova, Irina, 70, 107, 111, 112, 114, 123, 130, 132, 140, 142, 143, -144, 151, 152, 153, 156, 157, 168, 195 - -Barrault, Jean Louis, 311 - -_Barrelhouse_, 60 - -Barrientos, Maria, 95 - -Bartok, Bela, 175 - -Baylis, Lilian, 218 - -Beaton, Cecil, 122, 195, 239 - -_Beau Danube, Le_, 110, 112, 119, 122, 132, 136, 140, 318 - -Beaumont, Count Etienne de, 122 - -_Beauty and the Beast_, 300, 301 - -Beecham, Sir Thomas, 159, 160, 221 - -Beethoven, Ludwig von, 29, 30, 96, 98, 135 - -Begitchev, 237 - -Behymer, Mr. and Mrs. L. H., 314 - -Belasco, David, 97 - -_Belle Hélene, La_, 157 - -Belle, James Cleveland, 231, 243 - -Bellini, Vincenzo, 157 - -Belmont, Mrs. August, 230 - -_Beloved One, The_, 153, 172 - -Benavente, Jacinto, 57 - -Bennett, Robert Russell, 135 - -Benois, Alexandre, 71, 118, 123, 142, 203 - -Benois, Nadia, 79 - -Benthall, Michael, 239, 317 - -Bérard, Christian, 135 - -Berlioz, Hector, 115, 122, 195, 239 - -Beriosoff, Nicholas, 301 - -Beriosova, Svetlana, 301, 303, 304 - -Berman, Eugene, 137 - -Berners, Lord, 240, 270, 273 - -Bernhardt, Sarah, 81, 195 - -Bernstein, Leonard, 161 - -Bielsky, V., 95 - -_Billy Budd_, 281 - -_Billy the Kid_, 150, 156 - -Bizet, Georges, 122, 215, 298 - -_Black Ritual_, 172 - -_Black Swan_, 318 - -Blair, David, 300, 301, 303, 304 - -Blake, William, 218, 238 - -Blareau, Richard, 215 - -Bliss, Sir Arthur, 239, 240, 241, 279, 281, 284 - -Bloch, Mrs. (Manager Loie Fuller), 37, 38, 39 - -_Blonde Marie_, The, 50 - -Blot, Robert, 215 - -_Bluebeard_, 103, 153, 171 - -Blum, Léon, 108 - -Blum, René, 103, 106, 107, 108, 110, 114, 116, 125, 128, 129, 136, 140, -216 - -Boccherini, Luigi, 122 - -_Bogatyri_, 135 - -_Bolero_, 318 - -Bolm, Adolph, 74, 88-91, 94, 95, 96, 105, 149, 157, 164, 172, 173, 175, -176 - -Bolshoi Theatre (Moscow), 67, 80, 85, 87, 228, 294 - -Boosey and Hawkes, 211, 220, 221, 224, 229, 280 - -Boretzky-Kasadevich, Vadim, 168 - -Borodin, Alexander, 94, 122 - -Borodin, George, 230 - -Boston Opera House, 260 - -Boston Public Library, 129 - -Boston Symphony Orchestra, 166 - -Bottord, O. O., 313 - -Bouchene, Dmitri, 129 - -Bouchenet, Mme., 196 - -Boult, Sir Adrian, 226 - -_Bourgeois Gentilhomme, Le_, 110, 121 - -Bourman, Anatole, 308 - -_Boutique Fantasque, La_, 119, 122, 132, 136, 172 - -Bowman, Patricia, 147 - -Boyce, William, 298 - -Boyd Neel String Orchestra, 226 - -Boyer, Lucienne, 49 - -Bozzini, Max, 215 - -Brae, June, 241 - -Brahms, Johannes, 115, 122 - -Braunsweg, Julian, 213, 318 - -Breinin, Raymond, 162 - -_Brigadoon_, 316 - -British Arts Council, 77, 211, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227, 228, -229, 236, 287, 288, 302, 320 - -British Broadcasting Corporation, 227, 276 - -British Council, 220, 221, 225, 226, 227, 236, 259, 261, 267, 301 - -British Film Institute, 221 - -British Ministry of Information, 287 - -Britten, Benjamin, 222, 274, 281 - -Britton, Donald, 303 - -Brown, John, 98 - -Bruce, Henry, 73 - -_Bulerias_, 48, 55 - -Bulgakoff, Alexander, 76 - -_Burleske_, 160 - -Burra, Edward, 239, 247 - -Butsova, Hilda, 80, 105 - - -_Cabin in the Sky_, 59 - -_Cablagata_, 311 - -Cadogan, Sir Alexander, 234 - -_Cain and Abel_, 194 - -_Cachucha_, 18 - -_Camille_, 195 - -_Carib Song_ (_Caribbean Rhapsody_), 63 - -Carmela, 48, 49 - -_Carmen_, 218 - -Carmita, 48, 49 - -_Carnaval_, 102, 103, 121, 128, 152, 171, 219, 255 - -Camargo Society (London), 78, 106, 201, 217, 218, 221, 228, 238, 269, -273, 287 - -_Capriccio Espagnol_, 56, 98, 135, 172 - -_Capriccioso_, 172 - -_Capriol Suite_, 269, 298 - -Carnegie Hall (New York), 33 - -Caruso, Enrico, 18, 81, 101 - -Cassandre, 129 - -Castellanos, Julio, 155 - -Chagall, Marc, 156 - -Castle Garden (New York), 16 - -_Castor and Pollux_, 215 - -Caton, Edward, 194 - -_Caucasian Dances_, 98 - -_Caucasian Sketches_, 98 - -Cecchetti, Enrico, 70, 78, 172 - -Celli, Vincenzo, 198 - -C. E. M. A., 222, 223, 224, 226 - -_Cendrillon_, 103, 141 - -Center Theater (New York), 148, 149 - -Century of Progress Exhibition, 59 - -Century Theatre (New York), 32, 93, 102, 196 - -Chabrier, Emanuel, 121, 273 - -Chaliapine, Feodor, 17, 25, 26, 27, 242 - -Chaliapine, Lydia, 49 - -Chaliapine, “Masha,” 26, 27 - -Chamberlain, George, 299, 305, 306 - -_Chansons Populaires_, 55 - -Chaplin, Charles, 50, 249 - -Chappell, William, 78, 79 - -Charisse, Cyd, 249 - -_Chauve Souris_, 211 - -Chase, Lucia, 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 154, 157, 164, 166, 167, -170, 173, 174, 177, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 202 - -Chase, William (“Bill”), 44, 45 - -_Cimarosiana_, 122 - -Charnley, Michael, 79 - -Chateau Frontenac (Quebec), 259, 262 - -_Chatte, La_, 201 - -Chauviré, Yvette, 215 - -_Checkmate_, 241, 246, 254, 284 - -Chesterton, G. K., 275 - -Chicago Allied Arts, 90, 105 - -Chicago Civic Opera Company, 86 - -Chicago _Daily News_, 185 - -Chicago Opera Company, 90, 149 - -Chicago Opera House, 59, 151, 184, 185, 253 - -Chicago Public Library, 286 - -Chirico, 122, 142 - -Chopin, Frederic, 97, 121, 195 - -_Choreartium_, 115, 122 - -Christ’s Hospital (London), 273 - -_Christmas_, 255 - -Church of St. Bartholomew the Great (London), 278, 279 - -Church of St. Martin’s in-the-Fields (London), 278 - -Churchill, John, 278 - -Churchill, Sir Winston, 275 - -_Cinderella_, 141, 236, 237, 256, 269, 270, 271, 283, 290 - -City of Philadelphia, 321 - -Claire, Stella, 300 - -Clark, Peggy, 316 - -Clustine, Ivan, 21, 24 - -Clutterbuck, Sir Hugh and Lady, 307 - -_Cléopatre_ 76, 102, 121 - -Cleveland Institute, 33 - -Cobos, Antonio, 194 - -Colon Theatre (Buenos Aires), 273 - -Colonel de Basil’s Ballet Russe, 116 - -Colt, Alvin, 164, 198 - -_Comus_, 273 - -_Concerto for Orchestra_, 175 - -_Concerto Grosso_, 318 - -_Concurrence, La_, 110, 112, 121 - -Condon, Natalia, 198 - -Conrad, Karen, 152 - -_Constantia_, 190, 194 - -Constitution Hall (Washington, D.C.), 256, 307 - -Continental Revue, 49 - -Copeland, George, 32 - -Copland, Aaron, 150, 156 - -Copley, Richard, 44 - -Copley-Plaza Hotel (Boston), 129 - -_Coppélia_, 19, 87, 96, 129, 136, 156, 172, 173, 219, 229, 256, 301, 303 - -_Coq d’Or, Le_, 90, 94, 95, 96, 98, 103, 115, 121, 135, 140 - -Coralli, Jean, 246 - -_Cotillon, Le_, 110, 121, 142, 168 - -_Counterfeiters, The_, 115 - -Council for the Education of H. M. Forces, 287 - -Cotten, Joseph, 249 - -Covent Garden Ballet Russe, 116 - -Covent Garden Opera Company, 223, 224, 227 - -Covent Garden Opera Syndicate, 223 - -Covent Garden Opera Trust, 208, 211, 223, 224, 225, 261, 280, 298 - -Coward, Noel, 222 - -_Cracovienne, La_, 18 - -Craig, Gordon, 31, 36 - -Cranko, John, 298, 299, 300, 302, 315 - -Cravath, Paul D., 112 - -_Creation du Monde, La_, 218 - -Cripps, Sir Stafford, 221, 256 - -Crowninshield, Frank, 33 - -_Crystal Palace_, The, 215 - - -_Dagestanskaya Lesginka_, 102 - -_Daily Telegraph_ (London), 287 - -Dalcroze, Jacques, 39, 77, 288 - -Dali, Salvador, 57, 135 - -_Damnation of Faust, The_, 195, 198 - -Damrosch, Walter, 31 - -_Dancing Times_ (London), 287 - -Dandré, Victor, 24, 132, 141 - -Danilova, Alexandra, 59, 67, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 122, 128, 129, 201 - -_Dance of the Sylphs_, 195 - -_Danse de Feu_, 38 - -_Danse, La_, 87 - -_Danses Sacré et Profane_, 142 - -_Danses Slaves et Tsiganes_, 122 - -_Danses Tziganes_, 98 - -_Dante Sonata_, 246, 247, 256, 270, 273 - -Danton, Henry, 240 - -_Daphnis and Chloe_, 316 - -_D’après une lecture de Dante_, 247 - -Dargomijsky, Alexander, 122 - -_Dark Elegies_, 172 - -Darrington Hall, 52 - -_Daughter of Pharaoh_, 85 - -_Day in a Southern Port, A_, 270 - -_Days of Glory_, 168 - -_Death and the Maiden_, 171 - -_Deaths and Entrances_, 65 - -de Basil, Colonel W., 103, 105, 107, 108, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, -116, 117, 120, 121, 122, 123, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, -133, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 148, 151, 158, 160, -165, 168, 173, 183, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, -196, 197, 204, 244, 289 - -Debussy, Claude, 142 - -de Cuevas, Marquessa, 184, 191 - -de Cuevas, Marquis Georges, 57, 149, 168, 190, 191, 192, 194, 195, 196 - -Degas, 316 - -de la Fontaine, Jean, 215 - -Delarova, Eugenia, 111, 114, 123, 129 - -De La Warr, Lord, 222 - -Delibes, Léo, 19, 74, 96, 129, 136, 156, 215, 220, 296, 301, 303 - -Delius, Frederick, 158, 159, 270 - -dello Joio, Norman, 164 - -de Maré, Rolf, 49 - -de Mille, Agnes, 59, 85, 149, 150, 160, 161, 172, 174, 316 - -de Mille, Cecil B., 85 - -de Mille Dance Theatre, Agnes, 316 - -de Molas, Nicolas, 153 - -Denham, Sergei I., 125, 126, 127, 128 - -129, 137,143, 144, 157 - -de Pachmann, Vladimir, 81 - -Derain, André, 123, 129 - -de Valois, Ninette, 78, 90, 106, 201, 210, 212, 217, 218, 220, 222, -224, 228, 229, 230, 232, 233, 234, 238, 239, 241, 243, 246, 247, 248, -251, 252, 253, 255, 262, 264, 268, 269, 273, 277, 278, 279, 280, 283, -284, 285, 286, 287, 292, 293, 296, 297, 298, 299, 301, 306, 308 - -_Devil’s Holiday_, 136, 137, 269 - -Diaghileff Ballets Russes, 40, 43, 71, 72, 73, 75, 76, 77, 78, 86, 89, -105, 200, 201, 203, 204, 217, 255, 269 - -Diaghileff, Serge, 23, 40, 53, 67, 69, 71, 72, 74, 76, 77, 78, 80, 82, -85, 89, 90, 93, 94, 95, 102, 105, 106, 107, 110, 111, 112, 117, 118, -120, 121, 122, 127, 128, 130, 132, 137, 142, 145, 161, 172, 173, 175, -186, 197, 200, 201, 203, 204, 205, 217, 221, 273, 275, 287, 289 - -Dickens, Charles, 311 - -d’Indy, Vincent, 215 - -Dior, Christian, 258 - -Dillingham, Charles B., 12, 19, 20, 102 - -_Dim Lustre_, 160, 172 - -_Divertissement_, 205 - -_Divertissement_ (Tchaikowsky), 215 - -Dixieland Band, 59 - -Doboujinsky, Mstislav, 122, 129, 155, 160 - -Dohnanyi, Erno von, 315 - -Dolin, Anton, 53, 57, 84, 90, 103, 142, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 157, -160, 161, 168, 172, 174, 175, 184, 195, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, -204-207, 218, 219, 238, 255, 283, 318 - -Dollar, William, 194 - -_Don Domingo_, 155, 172 - -_Don Juan_, 103, 129, 316 - -_Don Quixote_, 86, 294, 318 - -_Don Quixote_ (Gerhard), 246, 247 - -Dorati, Antal, 114, 122, 141, 142, 151, 153, 157, 159, 167, 178 - -Dostoevsky, 36 - -Drake Hotel (Chicago), 285, 286 - -Drury Lane Theatre (Royal) (London), 133, 134, 136, 201 - -Dubrowska, Felia, 142 - -Dufy, Raoul, 122 - -Dukas, Paul, 215 - -Dukelsky, Vladimir (Vernon Duke), 115, 122 - -Dukes, Ashley, 78 - -Dumas, Alexandre, 195, 198 - -Duncan, Augustin, 29, 32 - -Duncan, Elizabeth, 29 - -Duncan, Isadora, 28-36, 37, 40, 45, 47, 64, 65, 93 - -Duncan, Raymond, 29 - -Dunham, Katherine, 58-63, 139, 311 - -Duse, Eleanora, 81 - -Dushkin, Samuel, 142 - -Dvorak, Antonin, 152 - - -Edgeworth, Jane, 278 - -Edinburgh Festival, 278, 306 - -Educational Ballets, Ltd., 116, 132, 138 - -Eglevsky, André, 111, 114, 123, 125, 157, 158, 161, 184, 195, 198 - -_Egmont_, 98 - -Egorova, Lubov, 67, 71-72 - -_El Amor Brujo_, 56, 129 - -_El Café de Chinitas_, 56, 57 - -_Elegiac Blues_, 274 - -_Elements, Les_, 103, 129 - -_El Huayno_, 56 - -Eliot, T. S., 285, 303 - -Ellsler, Fanny, 18, 272 - -Elman, Misha, 17, 82 - -Elman, Sol, 81 - -Elmhirst Foundation, 52 - -_Elves, Les_, 103, 129 - -Elvin, Harold, 294 - -Elvin, Violetta, 237, 238, 292, 294-295 - -_Elvira_, 215 - -Empire Theatre (London), 73, 74 - -English Opera Group, Ltd., 225 - -English-Speaking Union, 260, 261 - -_En Saga_, 300 - -_Epreuve d’Amour, L’_, 103, 129 - -Erlanger, Baron Frederic d’, 103, 122, 132, 141 - -_Errante_, 158, 172 - -_Escales_, 215 - -Escudero, Vicente, 47-49, 53 - -Essenin, Serge, 31, 34 - -_Eternal Struggle, The_, 141 - -_Eugene Onegin_, 184 - -Ewing, Thomas, 180 - - -_Façade_, 236, 238, 246, 269, 276, 291, 298 - -_Facsimile_, 172 - -_Faery Queen, The_, 273 - -_Fair at Sorotchinsk_, 160, 172 - -_Fairy Doll_, 255 - -Falla, Manuel de, 56, 118, 122 - -_Fancy Free_, 160, 161, 172, 174 - -_Fandango_, 56 - -_Fantasia_, 198 - -Farrar, Geraldine, 81 - -_Farruca_, 48 - -_Faust_, 218 - -Federal Dance Theatre, 59 - -Fedorova, Alexandra, 136 - -Fedorovitch, Sophie, 79, 240, 247 - -Fernandez, José, 172 - -Fernandez, Royes, 198 - -Festival Ballet (London), 158, 202, 206, 318 - -Festival Theatre (Cambridge University), 217 - -_Fête Etrange, La_, 298 - -Field, Marshall, 32 - -Fifield, Elaine, 200, 202, 304 - -_Fille de Madame Angot, La_, 150 - -_Fille Mal Gardée, La_, 149, 172 - -_Firebird_ (_L’Oiseau de Feu_), 72, 90, 121, 142, 165, 172, 173, 174, -175, 176, 177, 178 - -_First Love_, 74 - -Fisher, Thomas Hart, 253 - -Fiske, Harrison Grey, 76 - -Fitzgerald, Barry, 249 - -Fleischmann, Julius, 123, 124, 126, 128, 129, 131 - -Fokine American Ballet, 102 - -Fokine, Michel, 19, 31, 40, 65, 68, 72, 76, 79, 89, 92-104, 110, 114, -115, 116, 118, 121, 125, 128, 129, 135, 136, 141, 142, 149, 152, 153, -155, 157, 171, 172, 173, 175, 198, 202, 203, 308 - -Fokina, Vera, 92, 104, 157, 173 - -Fokine, Vitale, 93, 94 - -Fonteyn, Margot, 211, 212, 229, 231, 232, 234, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, -243, 246, 248, 253, 254-259, 271, 272, 282, 285, 286, 292, 304 - -Ford Foundation, 321 - -Forrest Theatre (Philadelphia), 114 - -Forty-eighth Street Theatre (New York), 59 - -Forty-fourth Street Theatre (New York), 153 - -Forty-sixth Street Theatre (New York), 42, 43, 48 - -Foss, Lukas, 184 - -_Fountains of Bakchisserai, The_, 294 - -_Four Saints in Three Acts_, 269 - -Fox, Horace, 263 - -_Foyer de Danse_, 269 - -Franca, Celia, 298 - -Francaix, Jean, 122 - -France, Anatole, 194 - -_Francesca da Rimini_, 122 - -Franck, César, 29, 240, 270 - -Frankenstein, Alfred, 199, 305 - -Franklin, Benjamin, 16 - -Franklin, Frederick, 59, 130, 202 - -Franks, Sir Oliver and Lady, 234, 256, 260, 261 - -French National Lyric Theatre, 214, 215 - -_Fridolin_, 49 - -Frohman, Mae, 46, 114, 144, 189, 191, 243, 312, 313 - -_Frolicking Gods_, 94 - -Frost, Honor, 298 - -Fuller, Loie, 37-39 - - -_Gaîté Parisienne_, 129, 135, 301 - -_Gala Evening_, 215 - -_Gala Performance_, 172 - -Galli, Rosina, 18 - -Garson, Greer, 243, 249 - -Gatti-Cazzaza, Giulio, 18, 19 - -Gaubert, Phillipe, 215 - -Geltser, 237 - -Geltzer, Ekaterina, 80, 87 - -Genée, Adeline, 73, 87 - -Genthe, Dr. Arnold, 33 - -Gerhard, Robert, 247 - -German Opera Company, 311 - -Gershwin, George, 135 - -Gest, Morris, 85, 93 - -Gest, Simeon, 80 - -Geva, Tamara, 158 - -_Ghost Town_, 136 - -Gibson, Ian, 152 - -Gide, André, 115 - -Gielgud, John, 222, 226 - -_Gift of the Magi_, 164, 172 - -Gilbert, W. S., 299 - -Gilmour, Sally, 78 - -Gindt, Ekaterina, 104 - -_Giselle_, 19, 72, 79, 134, 147, 149, 172, 180, 184, 199, 201, 203, -207, 218, 219, 229, 246, 255, 256, 292, 315, 318 - -Gladowska, Constantia, 195 - -Glazounow, Alexandre, 19, 100 - -Glinka, Mikhail, 94 - -_Gloriana_, 281 - -Gluck, Christopher Willibald von, 129, 161 - -Goetz, E. Ray, 110 - -Gogol, Nikolai, 150 - -Gollner, Nana, 85, 125 - -Golovine, 173 - -Gontcharova, Nathalie, 122, 129, 135, 141, 173 - -Goode, Gerald, 42 - -_Good-Humoured Ladies, The_, 122 - -Gopal, Ram, 213 - -Gordon, Gavin, 239 - -Gore, Walter, 78, 79 - -Gorky, Maxim, 15, 16, 26 - -_Götter-dammerung, Die_, 194 - -Gould, Diana, 78 - -Gould, Morton, 165 - -_Goyescas_, 172 - -_Graduation Ball_, 142, 172 - -Graham, Martha, 42, 63-65, 106, 213 - -Grand Ballet de Monte Carlo, 195 - -Grand Ballet du Marquis de Cuevas, 196, 225 - -Grant, Alexander, 247 - -Grauman’s Chinese Theatre (Hollywood), 85 - -Grauman’s Egyptian Theatre (Hollywood), 85 - -_Graziana_, 164, 172 - -Greco, José, 56 - -_Green Table, The_, 49 - -Grey, Beryl, 236, 237, 292-294 - -Grigorieva, Tamara, 123, 130 - -Grigorieff, Serge, 111, 114, 123, 142 - -Grimousinkaya, Irina, 294 - -Gross, Alexander, 29 - -Guerard, Roland, 130 - -Guerra, Nicola, 215 - -_Guiablesse, La_, 58 - -Guinsberg, Naron “Nikki,” 131 - -Guthrie, Tyrone, 222 - - -Habima Theatre, 311 - -Hall, James Norman, 276 - -Hallé Orchestra, The, 223 - -_Hamlet_, 236, 240, 283 - -_Hammersmith Nights_, 269 - -Hanson, Joe, 209 - -_Harlequin in April_, 302, 303 - -Hartley, Russell, 198 - -Hartmann, Emil, 98 - -Harvard Library, 129 - -_Harvest Time_, 167 - -Heseltine, Philip (Peter Warlock), 298 - -Haskell, Arnold L., 78, 106, 286-289 - -Hastings, Hanns, 41 - -_Haunted Ballroom, The_, 298 - -Hawkes, Ralph, 229 - -Hayward, Louis, 249 - -Heifetz, Jascha, 82 - -_Helen of Troy_, 103, 157, 158, 172 - -Helpmann, Robert, 238, 239, 240, 241, 254, 272, 278, 279, 282-286, 290, -317, 318 - -Henderson, Mrs. Laura, 204 - -Henderson, W. J., 23 - -_Henry VIII._, 198 - -Henry, O., 164 - -Hepburn, Katherine, 285 - -Hess, Dame Myra, 222 - -Hightower, Rosella, 152, 158, 160, 195, 198 - -Hindemith, Paul, 136 - -_Hindu Wedding_, 51 - -Hippodrome (New York), 12, 19, 20, 21, 88, 94, 102, 314 - -Hirsch, Georges, 213, 215, 216 - -H. M. Ministry of Works, 224 - -Hobi, Frank, 152 - -Hoffman, Gertrude, 76, 85, 87 - -Hogarth, William, 239, 274 - -Holden, Stanley, 303 - -Hollywood Bowl, 85, 164 - -Hollywood Theatre (New York), 139, 142, 143, 168 - -_Homage to the Queen_, 270, 315 - -_Hooray for Love_, 50 - -Horenstein, Jascha, 184 - -_Horoscope_, 270, 274 - -Horrocks, 231 - -Hotel Meurice (Paris), 39, 259 - -Howard, Andrée, 78, 79, 149, 171, 298 - -Hughes, Herbert, 239, 249, 251, 252, 262, 267, 304 - -Hugo, Pierre, 122 - -Hugo, Victor, 247 - -Humphrey, Doris, 42, 213 - -_Hundred Kisses, The_, 115, 122, 140 - -_Hungary_, 19 - -Hurok, Mrs. (Emma), 46, 49, 131, 139, 187, 188, 190, 191, 202, 241, -243, 312 - -Hurry, Leslie, 237, 240, 315 - -Hyams, Ruth, 243, 313 - - -Ibert, Jacques, 215 - -_Icare_, 136 - -_Igroushki_, 129 - -_Imaginaires, Les_, 122 - -Imperial League of Opera (London), 107 - -Imperial School of Ballet (Moscow), 80, 85, 86, 87, 117 - -_Impresario_, 33, 134, 158, 168, 215 - -_I Musici_, 317 - -_In Old Madrid_, 56 - -International Ballet (London), 290 - -International Ballet, 149, 184, 190, 196 - -International Choreographic Competition (Paris), 49 - -International Dance Festival, 151 - -International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union, 59 - -International Revue, 53, 204 - -_Interplay_, 165, 172 - -Ippolitov-Ivanov, Mikhail, 98 - -Irving, Robert, 240, 304 - -Irving, Sir Henry, 81 - -“Isadorables” (Anna, Lysel, Gretl, Thérése, Erica, Irma), 32, 33, 34 - -_Istar_, 215 - -Iturbi, José, 57 - -Ivanoff, Lev, 121, 237 - -Ivy House (London), 21, 25, 26 - - -Jackson, Tom, 224 - -Jackson, Rowena, 292, 296-297 - -Jacob, Gordon, 239 - -Jacob’s Pillow, 151, 152 - -Japanese Dancers and Musicians, 317 - -_Jardin aux Lilas_ (_Lilac Garden_), 172 - -_Jardin Public_ (_Public Garden_), 115, 122 - -Jasinsky, Roman, 111, 123, 130 - -Jerome, Jerome K., 239 - -_Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring_, 278 - -_Jeux_, 78 - -_Jeux d’Enfants_ (_Children’s Games_), 110, 122, 140, 168 - -_Jeux des Cartes_ (_Card Game_, _Poker Game_), 136 - -_Job_, 218, 236, 238, 283 - -Johnson, Albert, 114, 122 - -Johnson, Edward, 214, 230 - -Jolivet, André, 215 - -Joos, Kurt, 49 - -_Jota_, 56 - -_Jota Argonese_, 129, 135 - -Juda, Hans, 231 - -_Judgment of Paris_, 172 - - -Kahn, Otto H., 18, 32, 89, 95, 111, 112, 319 - -Kaloujny, Alexandre, 215 - -Karnilova, Maria, 152 - -Karsavina, Tamara, 67, 72-73, 75, 77, 89, 172, 255, 273 - -Karsavin, Platon, 72 - -Kauffer, E. McKnight, 241 - -Kaye, Nora, 152, 155, 158, 160, 164, 231 - -Kchessinsky, Felix, 68 - -Kchessinska, Mathilde, 67-69, 71, 111 - -Kennedy, Ludovic, 291 - -Keynes, Geoffrey, 238 - -Keynes, J. Maynard (Lord Keynes), 78, 106, 221, 222, 224, 228 - -_Khadra_, 298 - -Kidd, Michael, 164, 174 - -_Knight and the Maiden, The_, 215 - -Korovin, 122, 294 - -Kosloff, Alexis, 76, 85 - -Kosloff, Theodore, 68, 76, 84-85, 86, 87 - -Koudriavtzeff, Nicholas, 186, 187, 188, 194 - -Koussevitsky, Serge, 198 - -Krassovska, Natalie (Leslie), 125, 129 - -Kreutzberg, Harald, 46 - -Kriza, John, 152, 164, 167 - -Kubelik, Jan, 81, 82 - -Kurtz, Efrem, 113, 129 - -Kyasht, Lydia (Kyaksht), 67, 73-75, 77 - - -Laban, Rudolf von, 40 - -_Labyrinth_, 135 - -_Lac des Cygnes_ (Full length), 201, 219, 229, 236, 246, 248, 291, 292, -293, 296, 297, 315 - -_Lady Into Fox_, 171 - -_Lady of the Camellias_, 198 - -_Lady of Shalot_, 269 - -_L’Ag’ya_, 60 - -Laing, Hugh, 78, 152, 160 - -Lalo, Eduardo, 215 - -Lambert, Constant, 106, 211, 220, 231, 232, 234, 235, 239, 240, 246, -247, 264, 265, 270, 272-279, 283, 293, 296, 298 - -Lancaster, Osbert, 299, 300 - -Lanchbery, John, 305 - -Lane, Maryon, 303, 304 - -Larianov, Michel, 118, 123 - -_Last Days of Nijinsky, The_, 83 - -_Laudes Evangelli_, 120 - -Lauret, Jeanette, 129, 152 - -Lawrence, Gertrude, 204 - -Lawson-Powell School (New Zealand), 296 - -Lazovsky, Yurek, 130, 152 - -Lecocq, Charles, 160 - -_Leda and the Swan_, 269 - -Lehmann, Maurice, 216 - -Lenin, Nicolai, 68 - -Leningrad Conservatory, 312 - -Leslie, Lew, 53, 204 - -Lester, Edwin, 249 - -Lester, Keith, 172 - -Levine, Marks, 313 - -Lewisohn Stadium (New York), 102, 103, 149 - -Liadoff, Anatole, 96, 98, 122 - -Lichine, David, 111, 112, 114, 122, 123, 130, 142, 157, 160, 161, 172, -194 - -Lidji, Jacques, 127, 189, 191 - -Lieberman, Elias, 131, 178, 191 - -Lie, Honorable Trygve, 234 - -_Lieutenant Kije_, 155 - -Lifar, Serge, 130, 134, 136, 142, 169, 206, 215, 216, 273 - -Lingwood, Tom, 79 - -Lipkovska, Tatiana, 186 - -Litavkin, Serge, 74 - -Little Theatre (New York Times Hall), 49 - -Liszt, Franz, 81, 153, 158, 198, 239, 247, 270, 273, 276 - -Liverpool Philharmonic Society, 280 - -Lobe, Edward, 100 - -Local managers, 314-315 - -Loew’s Theatre (Washington, D.C.), 307 - -London Ballet Workshop, 79 - -London Philharmonic Orchestra, 223, 276 - -London Symphony Orchestra, 223 - -Lopez, Pilar, 56, 57, 58 - -Lopokova, Lydia (Lady Keynes), 67 - -75-77, 78, 87, 106, 221, 277 - -Lorca, Garcia, 56, 57 - -_Lord of Burleigh, The_, 270 - -Loring, Eugene, 149, 150, 156 - -Los Angeles Civic Light Opera Association, 249 - -Losch, Tilly, 158 - -Lourie, Eugene, 122 - -Louys, Pierre, 93 - -Lurçat, Jean, 122 - -Lyon, Annabelle, 152 - -Lyceum Theatre (London), 107, 109 - - -Mackaye, Percy, 76 - -MacLeish, Archibald, 114 - -Macletzova, Xenia, 80, 105 - -_Mlle. Angot_, 160, 172, 256 - -_Magic Swan, The_, 136 - -Maclès, Jean-Denis, 237, 258 - -Malone, Halsey, 128 - -Majestic Theatre (New York), 53, 54, 114, 149 - -Manhattan Opera House (New York), 24 - -Mansfield, Richard, 81 - -Manuel, Roland, 215 - -_Man Who Married a Dumb Wife, The_, 194 - -_Mardi Gras_, 298 - -Marie Antoinette Hotel (New York), 97 - -Maria Thérésa, 33 - -Marie, Grand Duchess of Russia, 111 - -Marie, Queen of Rumania, 37, 38 - -Mark Hopkins Hotel (San Francisco), 59 - -Markova, Alicia, 90, 130, 134, 151, 152, 161, 163, 175, 184, 195, 198, -199, 200-204, 207, 218, 219, 237, 246, 255, 271 - -Markova-Dolin Ballet Company, 163, 184, 186, 192, 198, 199, 201, 202 - -Martin Beck Theatre (New York), 59 - -Martin, Florence and Kathleen, 141 - -Martin, John, 40, 42, 43, 44, 45, 112 - -Maryinsky Theatre (Russia), 67, 68, 71, 72, 73, 77, 84, 86, 89, 140, -228, 236 - -_Masques, Les_, 79, 269 - -Masonic Auditorium (Detroit), 102, 185 - -Massenet, Jules, 19 - -Massine, Leonide, 44, 56, 106, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 117, 118, -119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 128, 129, 130, 132, 134, 135, -136, 137, 145, 155, 156, 160, 172, 197, 200, 201, 202, 206, 245, 269, -284, 290, 291, 300, 301 - -Masson, André, 122 - -_Matelots, Les_, 122 - -Matisse, Henri, 135 - -May, Pamela, 239, 240, 272 - -_Medusa_, 103 - -Melba, Dame Nellie, 295 - -Melville, Herman, 281 - -Mendelssohn, Felix von, 103, 122, 129, 317 - -Menotti, Gian-Carlo, 194 - -Mens, Meta, 40 - -_Mephisto Valse_, 269 - -_Merchant Navy Suite_, 274 - -Mercury Theatre (London), 78, 79 - -Merida, Carlos, 157 - -Messager, André, 215 - -Messel, Oliver, 122, 211, 232, 236, 315 - -Metropolitan Opera Company, 20, 86, 95, 98, 214, 321 - -Metropolitan Opera House (New York), 18, 19, 30, 31, 32, 33, 55, 56, -57, 87, 90, 94, 96, 97, 98, 106, 115, 122, 136, 139, 153, 154, 157, -158, 159, 160, 161, 165, 175, 176, 177, 188, 190, 192, 194, 197, 201, -214, 216, 225, 230, 231, 232, 233, 235, 237, 240, 247, 248, 259, 278, -283, 292, 293, 307, 318 - -Metropolitan Opera House (Philadelphia), 100 - -Meyerbeer, Giacomo, 246, 270, 273 - -_Midnight Sun, The_, 122 - -_Midsummer Night’s Dream, A_, 103, 122, 317 - -Mielziner, Jo, 155 - -Mignone, Francisco, 194 - -Mikhailovsky Theatre (St. Petersburg), 89 - -Miller, Patricia, 300 - -Milhaud, Darius, 153, 215, 218 - -Mills, Florence, 274 - -Minkus, Leon, 294 - -Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, 151 - -_Minuet of the Will o’ the Wisps_, 195 - -_Miracle, The_, 318 - -_Miracle in the Gorbals_, 236, 239, 240, 283, 284 - -_Mirages, Les_, 215 - -Miro, Joan, 122 - -Mladova, Milada, 129 - -Modjeska, Helena, 81 - -_Monotonie_, 42 - -Montenegro, Robert, 156 - -Monteux, Pierre, 95, 198 - -Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, 116 - -“_Moonlight Sonata_,” 96, 98, 100 - -Moore, Henry, 222 - -Mordkin Ballet, 80, 180, 181 - -Mordkin, Mikhail, 19, 22, 68, 76, 79-81, 87, 105, 147, 148, 149, 180 - -_Morning Telegraph, The_ (New York), 17 - -Morosova, Olga, 123, 130, 193 - -Morris, Douglas, 305 - -_Mort du Cygne, La_ (_The Dying Swan_), 19, 96, 98, 101 - -Mortlock, Rev. C. B., 278 - -Moreton, Ursula, 299 - -Moscow Art Players, 311 - -Moss and Fontana, 54 - -_Mother Goose Suite_, 300 - -Motley, 160, 161, 316 - -Moussorgsky, Modeste, 160 - -_Movimientos_, 79 - -Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 129, 164 - -Munsel, Patrice, 295 - -_Murder in the Cathedral_, 285 - -Music for the Masses, 17 - -_Music for the Orchestra_, 274 - -Music Ho!, 274 - -_Mute Wife, The_, 190, 194 - -_My Three Loves_, 290 - - -Nabokoff, Nicholas, 114, 122 - -Nachez, Twadar, 98 - -Natalie Koussevitsky Foundation, 281 - -National Gallery (London), 278 - -National Symphony Orchestra (Washington, D.C.), 184 - -Nation, Carrie, 37 - -_Naouma_, 215 - -Nemtchinova-Dolin Ballet, 204 - -Nemtchinova, Vera, 80, 105, 125 - -Nerina, Nadia, 292, 295-296 - -New Dance--Theatre Piece--With My Red Fires (trilogy), 213 - -New York City Ballet, 175, 225, 269, 318 - -New York City Center, 214, 321 - -New York City Festival, 169, 213, 214, 217 - -_New York Herald-Tribune_, 44 - -New York Philharmonic Orchestra, 57, 166 - -New York Symphony Orchestra, 31 - -_New York Times, The_, 17, 23, 31, 40, 43, 44, 98 - -_New Yorker, The_, 135 - -Nicolaeva-Legat, Nadine, 289, 290 - -_Night on a Bald Mountain_, 160 - -Nijinska, Bronislava, 107, 115, 122, 149, 153, 167, 171, 198, 269, 273 - -Nijinska, Romola, 82, 83 - -Nijinsky, Vaslav, 77, 81-84, 89, 115, 284 - -_Noces, Les_, 122 - -_Nocturne_, 122, 270 - -Nordoff, Paul, 161 - -Novikoff, Elizabeth, 87 - -Novikoff, Laurent, 22, 68, 86, 87, 294 - -_Nuit d’Egypte, Une_, 102 - -_Nutcracker, The_, 129, 136, 173, 184, 201, 203, 218, 219, 301, 302, -303, 304, 318 - -_Nutcracker Suite_, 94, 198 - - -_Oberon_, 98 - -Obolensky, Prince Serge, 111, 131 - -Oboukhoff, Anatole, 125 - -O’Dwyer, William, 213, 232, 233, 234 - -Offenbach, Jacques, 129, 135, 153, 157 - -Old Vic Theatre (London), 208, 218, 223, 226, 246, 298, 299, 317, 318 - -Olivier, Sir Laurence, 222 - -_On Stage!_, 164, 174 - -_On the Route to Seville_, 56 - -_Orchesographie_, 298 - -O’Reilley, Sheilah, 300 - -Original Ballet Russe, 103, 116, 138-146, 149, 187, 195, 196, 199, 204, -225 - -Orloff, Nicolas, 152 - -Orlova, Tatiana ( Mrs. Leonide Massine), 126 - -Osato, Sono, 114, 123, 130, 142, 162 - -Ostrovsky Theatre (Moscow), 117 - - -Pabst Theatre (Milwaukee), 184 - -_Paganini_, 103, 140 - -Paganini, Niccolo, 82, 137, 141, 194 - -Page, Ruth, 58, 60, 253 - -_Paint Your Wagon_, 316 - -Palacio des Bellas Artes (Mexico City), 114, 155 - -Palisades Amusement Park (New York), 20, 21 - -Panaieff, Michel, 125, 130 - -_Pantomime Harlequinade_, 318 - -_Papillons, Les_, 121 - -_Paris_, 270 - -Paris Colonial Exposition, 51 - -Paris Opéra, 106, 130, 134, 151, 172, 216, 228 - -Paris Opera Ballet, 168, 169, 213, 214, 215, 216, 318 - -Paris Opéra Comique, 225 - -Paris Opéra Company, 169 - -_Pas de Quatre_, 150, 172, 180, 198, 203, 318 - -_Pas des Espagnole_, 198 - -_Pas de Trois_, 195, 198 - -_Passing of the Third Floor Back, The_, 239 - -_Pastorale_, 200, 201 - -_Patineurs, Les_, 246, 270, 273, 296, 297, 316 - -Patterson, Yvonne, 195 - -_Pavane_, 215 - -_Pavillon, La_, 122 - -_Pavillon d’Armide_, 255 - -Pavlova, Anna, 11, 12, 12-27, 28, 32, 41, 43, 47, 51, 52, 67, 72, 74, -80, 86, 87, 88, 89, 94, 95, 105, 106, 120, 132, 141, 168, 203, 243, -254, 255, 257, 269, 272, 283, 284, 297 - -Payne, Charles, 150 - -Péne du Bois, Raoul, 164 - -People’s Theatre (St. Petersburg), 109 - -_Peri, La_, 215, 269 - -_Perpetual Motion_, 194 - -Perrault, Charles, 211, 236 - -Perrot, Jules, 246 - -Peter and the Wolf, 149, 172 - -_Peter Grimes_, 281 - -Petipa, Marius, 121, 236, 237 - -Petit, Roland, 119 - -Petit, Roland, Ballet Company, 317 - -_Petits Riens, Les_, 269 - -Petroff, Paul, 111, 123, 130 - -_Petroushka_, 85, 90, 104, 110, 114, 121, 140, 153, 157, 171, 173, 180, -318 - -Philadelphia Orchestra, 106, 166 - -Philipoff, Alexander (“Sasha”), 127, 139 - -_Piano Concerto_ (Lambert), 274 - -_Piano Concerto in F Minor_ (Chopin), 195 - -Picasso, Pablo, 118, 123 - -_Pictures at an Exhibition_, 190 - -_Pillar of Fire_, 152, 155, 172, 174 - -_Pineapple Poll_, 299, 300, 301 - -_Pins and Needles_, 59 - -Pinza, Ezio, 249 - -Piper, John, 238, 302, 315 - -_Plages, Le_, (_Beach_), 110, 122 - -Platoff, Mark, 130, 136 - -Playfair, Nigel, 269 - -Pleasant, Richard, 148, 149, 150, 151 - -Podesta, 19 - -Pogany, Willy, 95 - -_Poland--Three Moods: Happiness, Revolt, Sadness_, 97 - -Poliakov, 117, 118 - -_Polka_, 198 - -Polunin, Vladimir, 122 - -_Pomona_, 269, 273, 274 - -Poole, David, 300, 301, 303 - -_Poor Richard’s Almanack_, 16 - -Popova, Nina, 152 - -Portinari, Candido, 194 - -_Ports of Call_, 215 - -Poulenc, Francis, 79, 129, 215 - -Powell, Lionel, 107 - -Pratt, John, 63, 198 - -Preobrajenska, Olga, 67, 69-71, 107, 140, 167, 168 - -_Présages, Les_, 110, 112, 140 - -_Princess Aurora_, 152, 153, 172, 180 - -_Prince Igor_, 89, 104, 110, 114, 121, 128, 318 - -H.H. Prince of Monaco, 106 - -_Prodigal Son, The_ (_Le Fils Prodigue_), 142 - -Prokhoroff, Vassili, 294 - -Prokofieff, Sergei, 103, 141, 142, 149, 155, 158, 237, 238, 270 - -_Prophet, The_, 246 - -_Prospect Before Us, The_, 298 - -_Protée_, 142 - -Pruna, 122 - -Psota, Vania, 152, 153, 193, 194 - -_Punch and the Policeman_, 215 - -Purcell, Henry, 273 - -Pushkin, Alexander, 95, 156, 294 - - -_Quest, The_, 270 - -_Quintet_, 172 - - -Rachel, 195 - -Rachmaninoff, Sergei, 79, 103, 141 - -Rafael, 49 - -_Rakoczy March_, 195 - -_Rake’s Progress, The_, 236, 239, 246 - -Rambert, Marie, 77-79, 106, 201, 217, 269 - -Rameau, 215 - -Rapee, Erno, 156 - -Rassine, Alexis, 269 - -Rawsthorne, Alan, 279 - -Ravel, Maurice, 215, 298, 300, 316 - -Ravina, Jean, 198 - -_Reaper’s Dream, The_, 74 - -_Red Shoes_, 289, 290, 295 - -Reed, Janet, 158 - -Reed, Richard, 152 - -Reich, George, 198 - -Reinhardt, Max, 318 - -Remisoff, Nicholas, 91, 160 - -Renault, Madeline, 311 - -Renault, Michel, 215 - -_Rendez-vous, Les_, 270, 273, 298 - -Respighi, Ottorino, 150 - -Revueltas, Sylvestre, 155 - -Reyes, Alfonso, 155 - -_Rhapsody on the Theme of Paganini_, 141 - -Riaboushinska, Tatiana, 69, 111, 112, 114, 123, 130, 141, 161, 168, 195 - -Ricarda, Ana, 195, 198 - -Richardson, Philip, J. S., 287 - -Richman, Harry, 204 - -Richmond, Aaron, 260 - -Rieti, Vittorio, 122, 161, 194, 195 - -Rimsky-Korsakoff, Nicolas, 56, 94, 95, 98, 121, 122, 135 - -_Rio Grande_, 270, 274 - -Rittman, Trudi, 316 - -Ritz, Roger, 215 - -Robbins, Jerome, 65, 152, 160, 161, 164, 165, 172, 178, 195, 198 - -Robinson, Casey, 168 - -Robinson, Edward, G., 249 - -Rockefeller Foundation, 321 - -_Rodeo_, 59, 161 - -Roerich, Nicholas, 123 - -Rogers, Richard, 136 - -Romanoff, Boris, 107, 129 - -Romanoff, Dmitri, 152 - -_Romantic Age_, 157, 172, 174 - -_Romeo and Juliet_, 158, 159, 172, 174, 273, 274 - -Romulo, 234 - -_Rondino_, 255 - -Rosay, Berrina, 198 - -Roshanara, 52 - -Rose, Billy, 161 - -Rosenthal, Manuel, 129 - -Rossini, Gioacchino, 122, 198 - -Rostova, Lubov, 11, 123, 129 - -Rothapfel, Samuel, 44 - -Rouault, Georges, 142 - -_Rouet d’Omphale_, 98 - -_Rouge et Noir_, 135 - -_Roussalka_, 122 - -Rowell, Kenneth, 79 - -Roxy Theatre (New York), 44, 106, 110, 119 - -Roy, Pierre, 136 - -Royal Academy of Dancing (London), 225 - -Royal College of Music, 273 - -Royal Danish Ballet, 104 - -Royal Festival Hall (London), 318 - -Royal Opera House (Copenhagen), 221 - -Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 74, 132, 133, 156, 160, 191, 204, -208, 210, 211, 221, 223, 224, 228, 229, 235, 236, 237, 242, 243, 244, -245, 246, 272, 276, 277, 278, 279, 280, 281, 286, 298, 304, 315 - -Rubbra, Edward, 279 - -Rubenstein, Ida, 269 - -Rubinstein, Anton, 81 - -Rubinstein, Mr. & Mrs. Arthur, 191 - -Rubinstein, Beryl, 33 - -Rubinstein, Nicholas, 156 - -Ruffo, Tito, 17 - -Runanin, Borislav, 152 - -_Russian Folk Dances_, 98 - -_Russian Folk Lore_, 86 - -_Russian Folk Tales_, 122 - -Russian Imperial Ballet, 13, 68, 71, 80, 121, 200, 219 - -Russian Imperial School of the Ballet (St. Petersburg), 67, 69, 70, 73, -75, 85, 89, 104 - -Russian Opera Company, 310 - -_Russian Soldier_, 103, 155, 171 - -Russian State School (Warsaw), 78 - -Sabo, Roszika, 152, 184, 198 - -_Sacre du Printemps, Le_ (_Rite of Spring_), 78, 106 - -Saddler, Donald, 152 - -Sadler, Thomas, 298 - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, 74, 88, 90, 104, 106, 136, 141, 153, 160, 191, -201, 203, 204, 208, 211, 212, 213, 214, 217, 218, 219, 221, 223, 224, -225, 226, 227, 228, 229, 230, 232, 233, 235, 236, 237, 238, 242, 246, -248, 249, 250, 251, 255, 256, 261, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268, 269, 270, -272, 273, 278, 279, 280, 282, 283, 284, 285, 288, 290, 291, 294, 295, -296, 297, 298, 315, 318 - -Sadler’s Wells Foundation, 288 - -Sadler’s Wells Opera Company, 223, 225, 298, 299 - -Sadler’s Wells School, 74, 75, 184, 220, 225, 255, 259, 283, 286, 287, -288, 289, 290, 292, 296, 299, 300 - -Sadler’s Wells Theatre, 79, 208, 218, 237, 246, 288, 297, 298, 299 - -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet, 208, 223, 224, 225, 226, 270, 296, 297, -309, 318 - -St. Denis, Ruth, 64 - -_St. Francis_ (_Noblissima Visione_), 136 - -St. James Ballet Company, 225 - -St. James Theatre (New York), 105, 111, 112, 113, 114 - -Sainthill, Loudon, 303 - -St. Regis Hotel (New York), 83, 84, 131 - -Saint-Saens, Charles Camille, 98 - -“Saison des Ballets Russes,” 76, 85, 87 - -_Salad_, 215 - -_Salome’s Dance of the Seven Veils_, 100 - -_Samson and Delilah_, 218 - -San Francisco Art Commission, 164, 199, 321 - -_San Francisco Chronicle_, 305 - -San Francisco Civic Ballet, 168, 199, 213 - -San Francisco Opera Ballet, 85, 90 - -San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, 199 - -_Sapeteado_, 98 - -_Saratoga_, 135 - -Sargent, Sir Malcolm, 226 - -Sauguet, Henri, 215 - -Savoy Hotel (London), 133, 202, 209, 210, 212, 241, 243, 246, 277 - -Savoy-Plaza Hotel (New York), 112 - -Scala, La (Milan), 70, 106, 225, 296 - -Scarlatti, Domenico, 122, 215 - -Scènes de Ballet, 256 - -Schönberg, Arnold, 152 - -Schoop, Paul, 50 - -Schoop, Trudi, 49-50 - -_Schéhérazade_, 76, 85, 94, 106, 115, 121, 128, 173, 255, 318 - -Schubert, Franz, 30, 130, 153, 158, 195, 198, 270 - -Schumann-Heink, Ernestine, 17 - -Schumann, Robert, 121, 141 - -Schuman, William, 162 - -_Scuola di Ballo_, 110, 122 - -Schwezoff, Igor, 141 - -_Sea Change_, 298, 300 - -_Seasons, The_, 19 - -_Sebastian_, 190, 194 - -Sedova, Julia, 87 - -Selfridge, Gordon, 32 - -Seligman, Izia, 98 - -Semenoff, Simon, 130, 152, 156, 164, 172 - -Serguëef, Nicholas, 236, 237, 246 - -_Serpentine Dance_, 37, 38 - -Sert, José Maria, 122 - -Sevastianoff, German, 103, 132, 143, 151, 152, 153, 157, 158, 173 - -_Seven Dances of Life_, 40 - -_Seven Lively Arts, The_, 161, 204 - -_Seventh Symphony_, 135 - -_Sevillianas_, 55, 56 - -Shabalevsky, Yurek, 111, 123, 130 - -_Shadow, The_, 315 - -Shakespeare Festival Theatre (Stratford), 303 - -Shakespeare, William, 285, 298, 317 - -Shan-Kar, Uday, 51-53 - -Sharaff, Irene, 114, 122 - -Shaw, Bernard, 282 - -Shaw, Brian, 240 - -Shawn, Ted, 64, 151 - -Shearer, Moira, 234, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, 243, 254, 271, 289-292, -317 - -Shostakovich, Dmitri, 135 - -_Shore Excursion_, 60 - -Shrine Auditorium (Los Angeles), 249 - -Sibelius, Jan, 276, 298, 300 - -Siebert, Wallace, 184, 198 - -Sierra, Martinez, 55, 57 - -_Sirènes, Les_, 270, 284 - -Sitwell, Edith, 239, 276 - -Sitwell, Sir Osbert, 279 - -Sitwell, Sacheverell, 279 - -Skibine, George, 152 - -Slavenska, Mia, 130, 134, 201 - -_Slavonic Dances_, 152 - -_Slavonika_, 152, 153, 193 - -_Sleeping Beauty, The_ (_Sleeping Princess, The_), 71, 77, 85, 90, 121, -147 - -152, 173, 180, 211, 215, 220, 232, 236, 246, 248, 250, 251, 253, 256, -260, 269, 274, 283, 291, 292, 315 - -Sloan, Alfred P., 230 - -Smith, Douglas, 79 - -Smith, Oliver, 161, 164, 170, 173, 174, 176, 177, 178, 194 - -_Snow Maiden, The_, 122 - -Sokoloff, Asa, 189, 191 - -_Soleares_, 48, 55 - -Somes, Michael, 88, 240 - -_Song of the Nightingale, The_, 201 - -Soudeikine, Serge, 141 - -_Source, La_, 215 - -_South African Dancing Times_, 295 - -Soviet State School of Ballet, 70 - -_Spectre de la Rose, Le_, 82, 89, 115, 121, 128, 152, 153, 171, 318 - -Spessivtseva, Olga, 71 - -Staats, Leo, 215 - -Staff, Frank, 78, 79 - -_Star of the North_, 246 - -_Stars in Your Eyes_, 168 - -Stalin, Joseph, 109 - -Stein, Gertrude, 240, 241, 269, 270 - -Stevenson, Hugh, 79, 237 - -Still, William Grant, 59 - -Stokowski, Leopold, 106 - -Straight, Dorothy (Mrs. Elmhirst), 52 - -Strauss, Johann, 142, 198 - -Strauss, Richard, 160 - -Stravinsky, Igor, 90, 91, 106, 118, 121, 122, 136, 142, 158, 160, 165, -172, 173, 176 - -_Suite de Danse_, 198 - -_Suite in F Sharp Minor_ (Dohnanyi), 315 - -_Suite in White_, 215 - -Sullivan, Sir Arthur, 299, 300 - -_Summer’s Last Will and Testament_, 274 - -_Sun, The_ (New York), 23, 44 - -Svenson, Sven, Dr., 293 - -_Swan Lake_ (One act version), 121, 129, 136, 149, 167, 172, 173, 184, -218, 219, 286, 299, 318 - -_Sylphides, Les_, 76, 79, 94, 96, 103, 104, 110, 114, 121, 128, 140, -149, 152, 167, 171, 180, 198, 203, 219, 229, 255, 318 - -_Sylvia_, 74, 270, 296, 301, 315 - -_Symphonic Impressions_, 318 - -_Symphonic Variations_, 236, 240, 256, 270 - -_Symphonie Fantastique_, 115, 122, 239 - -_Symphonie Pathétique_, 103 - -_Symphony for Fun_, 318 - -_Symphony in C_, 215, 298 - - -Taglioni, Marie, 23, 157, 203, 272 - -Taglioni, Philippe, 157 - -Tait, E. J., 138 - -Talbot, J. Alden, 158, 161, 164, 166, 170, 173, 174, 181, 248 - -_Tales of Hoffman_, 290 - -Tallchief, Marjorie, 195 - -_Tally-Ho_, 161, 172, 174 - -_Tango_, 48 - -_Tannhauser_, 135 - -_Tarantule, La_, 18 - -Taras, John, 164, 172, 184, 192, 195 - -Taylor, Deems, 23 - -Tchaikowsky, Peter Ilytch, 71, 94, 103, 110, 121, 122, 136, 147, 152, -156, 184, 211, 215, 236, 237, 240, 255, 274, 301, 302, 303 - -Tchekhoff, Michael, 311 - -Tchelitcheff, Pavel, 136, 143 - -Tcherepnine, Nicholas, 121 - -Tchernicheva, Lubov, 111, 123, 130 - -Tennent Productions, Ltd., 223 - -Terry, Ellen, 31, 81 - -Tetrazzini, Eva, 17 - -Teyte, Maggie, 226 - -_Thamar_, 121, 255 - -Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, 58, 107, 109 - -Théâtre Mogador, 34 - -_Theatre Street_, 73, 75 - -Theilade, Nini, 130, 136 - -Thomson, Virgil, 269 - -_Three-Cornered Hat, The_ (_Le Tricorne_), 56, 110, 119, 122, 132, 136, -172, 255, 256 - -_Three Virgins and a Devil_, 150, 161, 172 - -_Thunder Bird, The_, 94 - -Tierney, Gene, 249 - -_Times, The_ (London), 156, 209 - -_Tiresias_, 274, 277 - -Tommasini, Vincenzo, 122, 137 - -_Tonight We Sing_, 168, 312 - -Toscanini, Arturo, 317 - -Toumanova, Tamara, 70, 107, 111, 112, 113, 115, 123, 129, 130, 134, -140, 143, 161, 167-170, 195, 201, 318 - -Toye, Geoffrey, 98 - -_Tragedy of Fashion, The_, 269 - -_Traviata, La_, 195, 198 - -Trecu, Pirmin, 301 - -Trefilova, Vera, 71 - -_Triumph of Neptune, The_, 273 - -Trocadero (Paris), 168 - -_Tropical Revue_, 59, 60 - -Trudi Schoop Comic Ballet, 49 - -Truman, Harry S., 256 - -Tudor, Antony, 78, 79, 149, 150, 152, 155, 158, 160, 161, 172, 174, -175, 195 - -Tupine, Oleg, 198 - -Turner, Jarold, 78 - -_Twice Upon a Time_, 295 - -_Two Pigeons, The_, 215 - - -Ulanova, Galina, 70, 71 - -_Undertow_, 161-162, 172 - -U.N.E.S.C.O., 261 - -_Union Pacific_, 114, 122, 140 - -Universal Art, Inc., 124, 128, 129, 131, 132, 133, 134, 139, 157, 165 - -University of Chicago, 58 - - -Vaganova, Agrippina, 266 - -Valbor, Kirsten, 198 - -_Valses Nobles et Sentimentales_, 298 - -Van Buren, Martin (President of U.S.A.), 18 - -Vanderlip, Frank, 32 - -Van Druten, John, 24, 72, 161 - -Van Praagh, Peggy, 78, 299, 306 - -Van Vechten, Carl, 23, 31 - -Vargas, Manolo, 56 - -Vaudoyer, J. L., 21 - -Vaussard, Christiane, 215 - -Verchinina, Nina, 111, 123, 130 - -Verdi, Giuseppi, 195, 198 - -_Verklärte Nacht_, 152 - -Vertes, Marcel, 153 - -_Vestris Solo_, 198 - -Victory Hall (London), 304 - -Vic-Wells Ballet, 106, 201, 204, 218, 269 - -_Vienna 1814_, 135 - -Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, 225 - -Vienna State Opera, 225 - -Vilzak, Anatole, 125 - -_Vision of Marguerite_, 318 - -Vladimiroff, Pierre, 22, 73, 80, 105 - -Volinine, Alexandre, 20, 21, 22, 68, 74, 76, 87, 88 - -Vollmar, Jocelyn, 195 - -Volpe, Arnold, 94, 96, 97, 98, 100 - -Volpe, Mrs. Arnold, 97, 100, 101 - -Vsevolojsky, I. A., 236 - - -Wagner, Richard, 29, 135, 194 - -Wakehurst, Lord & Lady, 260, 261 - -Wallman, Margaret, 70 - -Walton, Sir William, 239, 270, 279 - -_Waltz Academy_, 161, 172 - -_Wanderer, The_, 270 - -_Want-Ads_, 50 - -War Memorial Opera House (San Francisco), 162, 163, 164, 199, 250, 251, -282 - -Warner Theatre (New York), 308 - -Washburn, Malone & Perkins, 131 - -Washington Square Players (The Theatre Guild), 76 - -_Waste Land, The_, 303 - -_Water Nymph, The_, 74 - -Watkins, Mary, 44 - -Watteau, 161 - -Weber, Carl Maria von, 98, 121, 135 - -Webster, David, 210, 211, 212, 213, 214, 221, 224, 231, 235, 241, 242, -243, 248, 259, 262, 277, 278, 279-282, 299, 304 - -_Wedding Bouquet, A_, 236, 240, 246, 270, 291 - -Weidman, Charles, 42, 213 - -Weinberger, Jaromir, 135 - -_Werther_, 19 - -Whalen, Grover, 213, 234 - -Whistler, Rex, 239 - -_Whirl of the World, The_, 74 - -Wigman, Mary, 39-46, 47, 48, 64, 65 - -Wieniawsky, Henry, 167 - -Williams, Emlyn, 311 - -Williams, Ralf Vaughan, 218, 238, 273, 281, 283 - -Winter Garden (New York), 74, 75, 76, 85, 87 - -_Winter Night_, 79 - -_Wise Animals, The_, 215 - -_Wise Virgins, The_, 270 - -Woizikowsky, Leon, 11, 114, 123, 142 - -Works Progress Administration, 320 - - -_Yara_, 194 - -Yazvinsky, Jean (Ivan), 125, 130 - -Young Vic Theatre Co., 223 - -Youskevitch, Igor, 130 - -Ysaye, Eugene, 17 - -Yudkin, Louis, 231, 260, 304 - - -_Zamba_, 48 - -_Zapateado_, 48 - -Zeller, Robert, 198 - -_Zerbaseff_, 108 - -Zeretelli, Prince, 107, 108, 127 - -Ziegfeld Follies, 94 - -Ziegfeld Roof (New York), 129 - -Ziegfeld Theatre, 165 - -Ziegler, Edward, 98 - -Zimbalist, Efrem, 17 - -Zon, Ignat, 127 - -Zorich, George, 130 - -Zorina, Vera, 123, 157, 158 - -Zuckert, Harry M., 151 - -Zvereff, Nicholas, 129 - - * * * * * - -Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: - -This was, so far is I know=> This was, so far as I know {pg 50} - -necessary and funadmental=> necessary and fundamental {pg 68} - -heirarchy of the Russian=> hierarchy of the Russian {pg 71} - -there continously since=> there continuously since {pg 71} - -The pre-Chrismas=> The pre-Christmas {pg 112} - -organizer and threatre promoter=> organizer and theatre promoter {pg -127} - -others chosing to remain=> others choosing to remain {pg 130} - -dissident elements in its=> dissident elements in it {pg 157} - -existing today. Jerome Robbin’s=> existing today. Jerome Robbins’s {pg -172} - -to make arrangments=> to make arrangements {pg 177} - -engagment at the Metropolitan=> engagement at the Metropolitan {pg 177} - -a temporay whim=> a temporary whim {pg 181} - -the Diaghleff Ballet=> the Diaghileff Ballet {pg 204} - -the times comes for his appearance=> the time comes for his appearance -{pg 206} - -the spirt of the painter=> the spirit of the painter {pg 218} - -A Beverley Hills group=> A Beverly Hills group {pg 249} - -the threatre programme=> the theatre programme {pg 251} - -make him Ecuardorian=> make him Ecuadorian {pg 269} - -edge of Knightbridge and Kensington=> edge of Knightsbridge and -Kensington {pg 272} - -Elegaic Blues=> Elegiac Blues {pg 274} - -early indocrination=> early indoctrination {pg 290} - -considearble royal interest=> considerable royal interest {pg 306} - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68861 *** diff --git a/old/68861-h/68861-h.htm b/old/68861-h/68861-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index e0b3c55..0000000 --- a/old/68861-h/68861-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17075 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> - <head> <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> -<title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of a memoir of the Dance World, by -Sol Hurok. -</title> -<style> - -a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - - link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - -a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} - -a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} - -.blk {page-break-before:always;page-break-after:always; 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- font-size:130%;font-weight:bold;} - -h2.c {text-align:center;} - - h3 {margin:4% auto 2% auto;text-align:center;clear:both;} - - hr {width:30%;margin:.2em auto .2em auto;clear:both;color:black; -border-top:3px solid black;} - -hr.lft {margin-left:0%;margin-top:1em;margin-bottom:1em;} - -hr.lrt {margin-right:0%;margin-top:1em;margin-bottom:2em;} - -hr.lrt1 {margin-right:0%;margin-top:1em;margin-bottom:2em; -width:4em;} - -hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black; -padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;} - - img {border:none;} - -.lftspc {margin-left:.25em;} - -.letra {font-size:250%;float:left;margin-top:-1%; -font-family:"Impact", sans-serif;} - -.nind {text-indent:0%;} - - p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;} - -.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute; -left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray; -background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;} - -.pdd {padding-left:2em;text-indent:-2em;} - -.r {text-align:right;margin-right: 5%;margin-top:2em; -margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;} - -.rt {text-align:right;} - -.rtb {text-align:right;vertical-align:bottom;} - -.sans {font-family:sans-serif;} - -small {font-size: 70%;} - - sup {font-size:75%;vertical-align:top;} - -table {margin:2% auto;border:none;} - -table p{padding-left:4em;text-indent:-1em;} - -td {padding-top:.15em;} - -tr {vertical-align:top;} - -div.poetry {text-align:center;} -div.poem {font-size:90%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%; -display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;} -.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 3.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -</style> - </head> -<body> -<div style='text-align:center; margin-bottom:1em;'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68861 ***</div> -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" -height="550" alt="[The image of -the book's cover is unavailable.]" /></a><br /><br /> -<a href="images/dust_cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/dust_cover.jpg" -width="550" alt="[The image of -the book's dust-cover is unavailable.]" /></a> -</p> - -<table style="border: 2px black solid;margin:auto auto;max-width:50%; -padding:1%;"> -<tr><td> - -<p class="c"><a href="#CONTENTS">Contents.</a></p> -<p class="c"><a href="#LIST">List of Illustrations.</a></p> -<p class="c">Some typographical errors have been corrected; -<a href="#transcrib">a list follows the text</a>. -No attempt was made to correct/normalize names.</p> -<p class="c">(etext transcriber's note)</p></td></tr> -</table> - -<p class="rt"> -$4.50<br /> -</p> - -<p class="cb">S. HUROK PRESENTS</p> - -<p class="c">A MEMOIR OF THE DANCE WORLD<br /><br /> -<small>BY</small> <b>S. HUROK</b></p> - -<p>In these exciting memoirs, S. Hurok, Impresario Extraordinary, reveals -the incredible inside story of the glamorous and temperamental world of -the dance, a story only he is qualified to tell. From the golden times -of the immortal Anna Pavlova to the fabulous Sadler’s Wells Ballet, -Hurok has stood in the storm-center as brilliant companies and -extravagant personalities fought for the center of the stage.</p> - -<p>Famous as “the man who brought ballet to America and America to the -ballet,” the Impresario writes with intimate knowledge of the dancers -who have enchanted millions and whose names have lighted up the marquees -of the world. Isadora Duncan, Loie Fuller, Lydia Lopokova, Escudero, the -Fokines, Adolph Bolm, Argentinita, Massine, Alicia Markova, Anton Dolin, -Robert Helpmann, Shan-Kar, Martha Graham, Moira Shearer, Margot Fonteyn, -Ninette de Valois, and Frederick Ashton are only a few of the -celebrities</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="c">(<i>cont’d on back flap</i>)</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="c">(<i>cont’d from front flap</i>)</p></div> - -<p class="nind">who shine and smoulder through these pages.</p> - -<p>The fantastic financial and amorous intrigues that have split ballet -companies asunder come in for examination, as do the complicated -dealings of the strange “Col.” de Basil and his various Ballet Russe -enterprises; Lucia Chase and her Ballet Theatre; and the phenomenal -tours of the Sadler’s Wells companies.</p> - -<p>Although the Impresario’s pen is sometimes cutting, it is also blessed -by an unfailing sense of humor and by his deep understanding that a -great artist seldom exists without a flamboyant temperament to match.</p> - -<p>There are many beautiful illustrations—32 pages.</p> - -<p class="cb"><i><img src="images/hermitage.png" -width="175" -alt="Hermitage house inc." /></i><br /> - -8 West 13 Street<br /> -New York, N. Y.<br /> -<br /><br /><br /><span class="dk">S. HUROK PRESENTS</span></p> -<hr /> - -<div class="blk"> -<h1> -S. HUROK<br /><i>Presents</i></h1> - -<hr class="lrt" /> - -<p class="rt"><b><span class="sans">A MEMOIR OF THE DANCE WORLD</span></b><br /> -</p> -<p class="rt"> -<span class="dk">By S. Hurok</span><br /></p> - -<p class="cb"> -HERMITAGE HOUSE / NEW YORK <span style="margin-left: 2em;">1953</span><br /> -</p> -</div> - -<p class="rt"><b> -COPYRIGHT, 1953, BY S. HUROK<br /> -ALL RIGHTS RESERVED<br /> -<br /> -Published simultaneously in Canada by Geo. J. McLeod, Toronto<br /> -<br /> -Library of Congress Catalog Number: 53-11291<br /> -<br /><small> -MANUFACTURED IN THE U.S.A.<br /> -AMERICAN BOOK-STRATFORD PRESS, INC., NEW YORK</small></b> -</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The United States of America:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose freedom I found as a youth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which I cherish;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And without which nothing that has<br /></span> -<span class="i4">been accomplished in a lifetime<br /></span> -<span class="i4">of endeavour could have come to pass<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2 style="text-align:center;"><a id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_1">1.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_1">Prelude: How It All Began</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_11">11</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_2">2.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_2">The Swan</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_17">17</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_3">3.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_3">Three Ladies: Not from the Maryinsky</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_4">4.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_4">Sextette</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_47">47</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_5">5.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_5">Three Ladies of the Maryinsky—and Others</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_66">66</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_6">6.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_6">Tristan and Isolde: Michel and Vera Fokine</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_7">7.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_7">Ballet Reborn in America: W. De Basil and his Ballets Russes De Monte Carlo </a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_105">105</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_8">8.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_8">Revolution and Counter-Revolution: Leonide Massine and the New Ballet Russe De Monte Carlo</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_125">125</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_9">9.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_9">What Price Originality? The Original Ballet Russe</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_138">138</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_10">10.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_10">The Best of Plans ... Ballet Theatre</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_147">147</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_11">11.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_11">Indecisive Interlude: De Basil’s Farewell and a Pair of Classical Britons</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_183">183</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_12">12.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_12">Ballet Climax—Sadler’s Wells and After ...</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_208">208</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_13">13.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_13">Epilogue: Unborn Tomorrow</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_310">310</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#INDEX">Index</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_323">323</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<h2 style="text-align:center;" id="LIST">List of Illustrations<br /> -<small>[Added by the etext transcriber as it does not -appear in the book.]</small></h2> - -<table style="margin:1em auto;max-width:85%;"> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_001"> -1. -S. Hurok -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_002"> -2. Mrs. Hurok -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_003"> -3. -Marie Rambert -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_004"> -4. -Olga Preobrajenska in her Paris school -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_005"> -5. -Lydia Lopokova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_006"> -6. -Tamara Karsavina -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_007"> -7. -Mathilde Kchessinska -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_008"> -8. -Michel Fokine -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_009"> -9. -Adolph Bolm -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_010"> -10. -Anna Pavlova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_011"> -11. -Alexandre Volinine in his Paris studio, with Colette Marchand -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_012"> -12. -Ballet Pioneering in America: “Sasha” Philipoff, Irving Deakin, -Olga Morosova, “Colonel” W. de Basil, Sono Osato -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_013"> -13. -S. Hurok, “Colonel” W. de Basil and leading members of the de Basil -Ballet Russe, 1933. Back row: David Lichine, Vania Psota, Sasha -Alexandroff, S. Hurok; Center row: Leonide Massine, Tatiana -Riabouchinska, Col. W. de Basil, Nina Verchinina, Yurek -Shabalevsky; Front row: Edward Borovansky, Tamara Toumanova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_014"> -14. -Anton Dolin in <i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_015"> -15. -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo: Alexandra Danilova as the Glove Seller -and Leonide Massine as the Peruvian in <i>Gaîté Parisienne</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_016"> -16. -Tamara Toumanova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_017"> -17. -Alicia Markova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_018"> -18. -Scene from Antony Tudor’s <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>: Hugh Laing, Antony -Tudor, Dmitri Romanoff, Lucia Chase, Alicia Markova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_019"> -19. -Ballet Theatre: Jerome Robbins and Janet Reed in <i>Fancy Free</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_020"> -20. -Ninette de Valois -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_021"> -21. -David Webster -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_022"> -22. -Constant Lambert -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_023"> -23. -S. Hurok, Margot Fonteyn, Robert Helpmann -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_024"> -24. -Irina Baronova and Children -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_025"> -25. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Following the premiere of -<i>Sylvia</i>—Frederick Ashton, Margot Fonteyn, S. Hurok -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_026"> -26. -S. Hurok and Margot Fonteyn -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_027"> -27. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Frederick Ashton, Ninette de Valois, Leonide -Massine -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_028"> -28. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Beryl Grey as the Princess -Aurora -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_029"> -29. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Nadia Nerina in <i>Façade</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_030"> -30. -Roland Petit -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_031"> -31. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Margot Fonteyn and Alexander Grant in -<i>Tiresias</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_032"> -32. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: John Field and Violetta Elvin -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_033"> -33. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i>—John Field and Beryl Grey -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_034"> -34. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Last Act of <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_035"> -35. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Giselle</i>—Robert Helpmann and Margot Fonteyn -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_036"> -36. -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: Elaine Fifield as Swanilda in <i>Coppélia</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_037"> -37. -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: David Blair and Svetlana -Beriosova in <i>Coppélia</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_038"> -38. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>A Wedding Bouquet</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_039"> -39. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Act I. <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>—The -Princess falls beneath the spell of Carabosse -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_040"> -40. -Agnes de Mille -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_041"> -41. -John Lanchbery, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_042"> -42. -John Hollingsworth, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Ballet -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_043"> -43. -Robert Irving, Musical Director, Sadler’s Wells Ballet -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_044"> -44. -The Sadler’s Wells production of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>: -Puss-in-Boots -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_045"> -45. -Robert Helpmann as the Rake in <i>The Rake’s Progress</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_046"> -46. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Rowena Jackson as Odile in <i>Le Lac -des Cygnes</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_047"> -47. -Colette Marchand -</a></td></tr> - - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_048"> -48. -Moira Shearer -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_049"> -49. -Moira Shearer and Daughter -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_050"> -50. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Symphonic Variations</i>—Moira Shearer, Margot -Fonteyn, Michael Somes, Pamela May -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_052"> -52. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: America is closer: loading at Port -of London -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_053"> -53. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Scenery and costumes start the -trek for America -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_054"> -54. -Antonio Spanish Ballet: Antonio -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_055"> -55. -Antonio Spanish Ballet: <i>Serenada</i> -</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_11">{11}</a></span></p> - -<p class="cbig250"><span class="dk">S. HUROK PRESENTS</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a id="c_1">1.</a> Prelude: How It All Began</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p>In the mid-forties, after the publication of my first book, a number of -people approached me with the idea of my doing another book dealing with -the dance and ballet organizations I had managed.</p> - -<p>I did not feel the time was ripe for such a book. Moreover, had I -written it then, it would have been a different book, and would have -carried quite another burden. If it had been done at that time, it would -have been called <i>To Hell With Ballet!</i></p> - -<p>In the intervening period a good deal has happened in the world of -ballet. The pessimism that prompted the former title has given way on my -part to a more optimistic note. The reasons for this change of heart and -attitude will be apparent to the reader.</p> - -<p>At any rate, this book had to be written. In the volume of memoirs that -appeared some seven years ago I made an unequivocal statement to that -effect, when I wrote: “There’s no doubt about it. Ballet is different. -Some day I am going to write a book about it.”</p> - -<p>Here it is. It is a very personal account, dealing with dance and ballet -as I have seen it and known it. For thirty-four years I have not only -watched ballet, but have had a wide, first-hand experience of and -contact with most of the leading dance and ballet organizations of the -world. This book is written out of that experience.</p> - -<p>Ballet on this continent has come a long way along the road since the -night I bowed silently over the expressive hand of Anna<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_12">{12}</a></span> Pavlova as she -stood among the elephants in Charles B. Dillingham’s Hippodrome. I like -to think, with what I hope is a pardonable pride, that I have helped it -on its journey. It has given me greater pleasure than any of the -multifarious other activities of my managerial career. On that side of -the ledger lies the balance. It has also given me a generous share of -heartaches and headaches. But, if I had it all to do over again, there -is little I would have ordered otherwise.</p> - -<p>Because of these things, I believe my point of view is wider than that -of the scholar, the critic, or the enthusiast. Ballet is glamourous. It -is technical and complex; an exacting science. It is also highly -emotional, on the stage, behind the scenes, and often away from the -theatre. Temperament is by no means confined to the dancing artists.</p> - -<p>During the course of these close contacts with the dance, a mass of -material has accumulated; far too much for a single book. Therefore, I -am going to attempt to give a panorama of the high spots (and some of -the low spots, as well) of three-and-one-half decades of managing dance -attractions, together with impressions of those organizations and -personalities that have, individually and collectively, contributed to -make ballet what it is today.</p> - -<p>With a book of this kind a good resolution is to set down nothing one -has not seen or heard for oneself. For the most part I shall try to -stick to that resolution. Whenever it becomes necessary to depart from -it, appropriate credit will be accorded. Without question there are -times when silence is the wiser part of narration, and undoubtedly there -will be times when, in these pages, silence may be regarded, I hope, as -an indication of wisdom. However, there are not likely to be many such -instances, since a devotion to candid avowal will compel the dropping of -the curtain for a few blank moments and raising it again at a more -satisfactory stage only to spare the feelings of others rather than -myself.</p> - -<p>One of the questions I have asked myself is where and how did this -passionate interest in dance arise. I was, as almost every one knows, -born in Russia. Dance and music are a part of the Russian. Russia was -the home of a ballet that reached the highest perfection of its time: an -organization whose influence is felt wherever and whenever a ballet -slipper is donned. Yet, as a country lad, springing from an obscure -provincial town, brought up in my father’s village hardware business and -on his tobacco plantation, I am unable to boast of having been bowled -over, smitten, marked for life<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_13">{13}</a></span> by being taken at a tender age to see -the Imperial Ballet. No such heaven-sent dispensation was mine. I was a -long-time American citizen before I saw ballet in Russia.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, I believe that the fact I was born in Russia not only -shaped my ends, but provided that divinity that changed a -common-or-garden-variety little boy into what I eventually became. -Consciously or unconsciously the Russian adores the artist, denies the -artist nothing. As a normal, healthy, small-town lad, in Pogar, deep in -the Ukraine, I sensed these things rather than understood them. For it -was in Pogar and Staradrube and Gomel, places of no importance, that I -not only came into contact with the Russian “adoration” of the artist; -but, something much more important, I drank in that love of music and -dance that has motivated the entire course of my life.</p> - -<p>The Imperial Ballet was not a touring organization; and Pogar, -Staradrube and Gomel were far too unimportant and inconspicuous even to -be visited by vacationing stars on a holiday jaunt or barnstorming trip. -But the people of Pogar, Staradrube and Gomel sang and danced.</p> - -<p>The people of Pogar (at most there might have been five thousand of -them) were a hard-working folk but they were a happy people, a -fun-loving people, when days work was done. Above all else they were a -hospitable people. Their chief source of livelihood was flax and -tobacco, a flourishing business in the surrounding countryside, which -served to provide the villagers with their means for life, since Pogar -was composed in the main of tradesmen and little supply houses which, in -turn, served the necessaries to the surrounding countryside.</p> - -<p>Still fresh in my mind is the wonder of the changing seasons in Pogar, -always sharply contrasted, each with its joys, each having its tincture -of trouble. The joys remain, however; the troubles recede and vanish. -Winter and its long nights, with the long hauls through the snow to the -nearest railway station, forty frigid miles away: a two-day journey with -the sleighs; the bivouacked nights to rest the horses. I remember how -bitterly cold it was, as I lay in the sleigh or alternately sat beside -the driver, wrapped in heavy clothes and muffled to my eyes; how, in the -driving snow, horses and drivers would sometimes lose the road entirely, -and the time spent in retracing tracks until the posts and pine trees -marking what once had been the edges of the road were found. Then how, -with horses<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_14">{14}</a></span> nearly exhausted and our spirits low, we would glimpse the -flickering of a light in the far distance, and, heading towards it, -would find a cluster of little peasant huts. Once arrived, we would -arouse these poor, simple people, sometimes from their beds, and would -be welcomed, not as strangers, but rather as old friends. I remember -how, in the dead of night, still full of sleep, they would prepare warm -food and hot tea; how they would insist on our taking their best and -warmest beds, those on the stove itself, while they would curl up in a -corner on the floor. Then, in the morning, after more hot tea and a -piping breakfast, horses fed and refreshed, they would send us on our -way with their blessing, stubbornly refusing to accept anything in the -way of payment for the night’s lodging.</p> - -<p>This warm, human, generous hospitality of the Russian peasant has not -changed through devastation by war and pestilence. Neither Tsardom nor -Bolshevism could alter the basic humanity of the Russian people, who are -among the kindest and most hospitable on earth.</p> - -<p>The winter nights in Pogar, when the snow ceased falling and the moon -shone on the tinselly scene, were filled with a magic and unforgettable -beauty. The Christmas feasting and festivities will remain with me -always. But the sharpest of all memories is the picture of the Easter -fun and frolic, preceded by the Carnival of Butter-Week. Spring had -come. It mattered little that Pogar’s unpaved roads were knee-deep in -mud; the sun was climbing to a greater warmth: that we knew. We knew the -days were drawing out. It was then that music and dance were greater, -keener pleasures than ever. Every one sang. All danced. Even the lame -and the halt tried to do a step or two.</p> - -<p>We made the <i>Karavod</i>: dancing in a circle, singing the old, -time-honored songs. And there was an old resident, who lived along the -main roadway in a shabby little house set back from the lane itself, a -man who might have been any age at all—for he seemed ageless—who was a -<i>Skazatel</i> of folk songs and stories. He narrated tales and sang stories -of the distant, remote past.</p> - -<p>The village orchestra, come Easter time, tuned up out of doors. There -was always a violin and an accordion. That was basic; but if additional -musicians were free from their work, sometimes the orchestra was -augmented by a <i>balalaika</i> or two, a guitar or a zither—a wonderful -combination—particularly when the contrabass player was at liberty. -They played, and we all sang, above all, we sang folk<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_15">{15}</a></span> song after folk -song. Then we danced: polkas without end, and the <i>Crakoviak</i>; and the -hoppy, jumpy <i>Maiufess</i>, while the wonderful little band proceeded to -outdo itself with heartrending vibratos, tremulous tremolos, and -glissandos that rushed up and down all the octaves.</p> - -<p>Spring merged into summer. The lilacs and the violets faded; but the -summer evenings were long and the change from day to night was slow and -imperceptible. It took the sun many hours to make up its mind to -disappear behind the horizon, and even then, after the edge of the -burning disk had been swallowed up by the edge of the Ukranian plain, -its scarlet, orange and pink memories still lingered fondly on the sky, -and on the surface of our little lake, as if it were reluctant to leave -our quiet land.</p> - -<p>It was then the music rose again; the <i>balalaikas</i> strummed, and I, as -poor a <i>balalaika</i> player as ever there was, added tenuous chords to the -melodies. From the near distance came the sound of a boy singing to the -accompaniment of a wooden flute; and, as he momentarily ceased, from an -even greater distance came the thin wail of a shepherd’s pipe.</p> - -<p>There was music at night, there was music in the morning. The people -sang and danced. The village lake, over which the setting sun loved to -linger, gave onto a little stream, hardly more than a brook. The tiny -brook sang on its journey, and the rivulets danced on to the Desna; from -there into the Sozh on its way to Gomel, down the Dnieper past the -ancient city of Kiev, en route to the Black Sea. And in all the towns -and villages it passed, I knew the people were singing and dancing.</p> - -<p>This was something I sensed rather than knew. It was this background of -music and dance that was uppermost in my thoughts as I left Russia to -make my way, confused and uncertain as to ambition and direction. -Despite the impact of the sumptuousness of the bright new world that -greeted me on my arrival in America, I found a people who neither sang -nor danced. (I am not referring to the melodies of Tin-Pan Alley or the -turkey-trot.) I could not understand it. I was dismayed by it. I was -filled with a determination to help bring music and dance into their -lives; to make these things an important part of their very existence.</p> - -<p>The story of the transition to America has been told. The transition was -motivated primarily by an overwhelming desire for freedom. In 1904 I -heard Maxim Gorky speak. Although it was six<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_16">{16}</a></span> months later before I knew -who Maxim Gorky was, I have never forgotten what he said. Yet, moved as -I was by Gorky’s flaming utterance, it was Benjamin Franklin who became -my ideal.</p> - -<p>It was some time during Russia’s fateful year of 1905 that, somehow, a -translation of <i>Poor Richard’s Almanack</i> fell into my hands. Franklin’s -ideas of freedom to me symbolized America. There, I knew, was a freedom, -a liberty of spirit that could not be equalled.</p> - -<p>Although I arrived at Castle Garden, New York, after a twenty-three day -voyage, in May, 1906, it was the fact that Philadelphia was the home of -Benjamin Franklin that drew me to that city to make it my first American -abiding place.</p> - -<p>The evidence of these boyhood dreams of America has been proved by my -own experience.</p> - -<p>My dream has become a reality.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_17">{17}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_2">2.</a> The Swan</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span><b>T</b> was The Swan who determined my career in dance and ballet management. -Whatever my confused aspirations on arriving in America, the music and -dance I had imbibed at the folk fonts of Pogar remained with me.</p> - -<p>I have told the story of the gradual clarification of those aspirations -in the tale of the march forward from Brooklyn’s Brownsville. The story -of Music for the Masses has become a part of the musical history of -America. I had two obsessions: music and dance. Music for the Masses had -become a reality. “The Hurok Audience,” as <i>The Morning Telegraph</i> -frequently called it, was the public to which, two decades later, <i>The -New York Times</i> paid homage by asserting I had done more for music than -the phonograph.</p> - -<p>Through the interesting and exciting days of presenting Chaliapine, -Schumann-Heink, Eugene Ysaye, Mischa Elman, Efrem Zimbalist, Tetrazzini, -Tito Ruffo, the question of the dance, my other obsession, and how to do -for it what I had succeeded in doing for music, was always in my mind.</p> - -<p>It was then I met The Swan.</p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova is a symbol of ballet in America; nay, throughout the -world. I knew that here in America were a people who loved the dance, if -they could but know it. The only way for them to know it, I felt, was to -expose them to it in the finest form of theatre dance: the ballet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_18">{18}</a></span></p> - -<p>The position that ballet holds today in the affections of the American -public is the result of that exposure, coupled with a strongly -increasing enthusiasm that not only holds its devotees, but brings to it -a constantly growing new audience. But it was not always thus. Prior to -the advent to these shores of Anna Pavlova there was no continuous -development. America, to be sure, had had theatrical dancing -sporadically since the repeal of the anti-theatre act in 1789. But all -of it, imported from Europe, for the most part, had been by fits and -starts. From the time of the famous Fanny Ellsler’s triumphs in <i>La -Tarantule</i> and <i>La Cracovienne</i>, in 1840-1842, until the arrival of Anna -Pavlova, in 1910, there was a long balletic drought, relieved only by -occasional showers.</p> - -<p>America was not reluctant in its balletic demonstrations in the Fanny -Ellsler period, when the opportunities for appreciation were provided. -The American tour of the passionately dramatic Fanny Ellsler was made in -a delirium of enthusiasm. She was the guest of President Van Buren at -the White House, and during her Washington engagement, Congress -suspended its sittings on the days she danced. She was pelted with -flowers, and red carpets were unrolled and spread for her feet to pass -over. Even the water in which she washed her hands was preserved in -bottles, so it is said, and venerated as a sacred relic. Her delirious -<i>Cachucha</i> caused forthright Americans to perform the European -balletomaniac rite of toasting her health in champagne drunk from her -own ballet shoes.</p> - -<p>It is necessary now and then, I feel, to mark a time and place for -purposes of guidance. Therefore, I believe that the first appearance of -Anna Pavlova at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York on 28th -February, 1910 is a date to remember, since it may be said to mark the -beginning of the ballet era in our country.</p> - -<p>That first visit was made possible by the generosity of a very great -American Maecenas, the late Otto H. Kahn, to whom the art world of -America owes an incalculable debt. The arrangement was for a season of -four weeks. Her success was instantaneous. Her like never had been seen. -The success was the more remarkable considering the circumstances of the -performance, facts not, perhaps, generally remembered. Giulio -Gatti-Cazzaza, the Italian director of the Metropolitan Opera House, was -not what might be called exactly sympathetic to Otto Kahn’s -determination to establish the Opera House on a better rounded scheme -than the then prevalent over-exploitation of Enrico Caruso. As an -Italian opera director,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_19">{19}</a></span> Gatti-Cazzaza was even less sympathetic to the -dance, and was, moreover, extremely dubious that Metropolitan audiences -would accept ballet, other than as an inconsequential <i>divertissement</i> -during the course of an opera. So opposed to dance was he, as a matter -of fact, that, although he eventually married Rosina Galli, the <i>prima -ballerina</i> of the Metropolitan, he made her fight for ballet every inch -of the way and, on general operatic principle, opposed everything she -attempted to do for the dance.</p> - -<p>Because of his “anti-dance” attitude, and in order to “play safe,” Gatti -ordained that Pavlova’s American debut be scheduled to follow a -performance of Massenet’s opera <i>Werther</i>. The Massenet opera being a -fairly long three-act work, its final curtain did not fall until past -eleven o’clock. By the time the stage was ready for the first American -appearance of Pavlova, it was close to eleven-thirty. The audience that -had remained largely out of curiosity rather than from any sense of -expectation left reluctantly at the end. The dancing they had seen was -like nothing ever shown before in the reasonably long history of the -Metropolitan. For her début Pavlova had chosen Delibes’ human-doll -ballet, <i>Coppélia</i>, giving her in the role of Swanilda a part in which -she excelled. The triumph was almost entirely Pavlova’s. The role of -Frantz allowed her partner, Mikhail Mordkin, little opportunity for -virtuoso display, the <i>corps de ballet</i> seems to have been -undistinguished, and the Metropolitan conductor, Podesti, most certainly -was not a conductor for ballet, whatever else he might have been.</p> - -<p>Altogether, in this first season, there were four performances of -<i>Coppélia</i>, and two of <i>Hungary</i>, a ballet composed by Alexandre -Glazounow. Additional works during a short tour that followed, and which -included Boston and Baltimore, were the Bacchanale from Glazounow’s <i>The -Seasons</i>, and <i>La Mort du Cygne</i> (<i>The Dying Swan</i>), the miniature solo -ballet Michel Fokine had devised for her in 1905, which was to become -her symbol.</p> - -<p>Such was the success, Pavlova returned for a full season in New York and -a subsequent tour the following autumn, bringing Mordkin’s adaptation of -<i>Giselle</i>, and another Mordkin work, <i>Azayae</i>.</p> - -<p>It was six years later that The Swan floated into my life. In 1916, -Charles B. Dillingham, Broadway theatrical producer with a difference, -was the director of the Hippodrome, the unforgettable Sixth Avenue -institution. Dillingham was “different” for a number of reasons. He was -a theatre man of vision; the Hippodrome, with its<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_20">{20}</a></span> fantastic and -colossal entertainments, if not his idea, was his triumph; he was -perhaps the only Broadway manager who had been offered the post of -business manager of the Metropolitan Opera Company, an offer he refused, -but he did accept a commission to make a complete survey of the -Metropolitan’s business affairs.</p> - -<p>For years I had stood in awe of him.</p> - -<p>In 1916, Dillingham engaged Pavlova to appear at the Hippodrome, with -her partner, Alexandre Volinine. Neither the auspices, the billing, nor -the setting could, by any stretch of the imagination, be termed ideal. -Dillingham’s Hippodrome bore the subtitle “The National Amusement -Institution of America,” an appellation as grandiose as the building -itself. The evening’s entertainment (plus daily matinees), of which The -Swan’s appearance was a part, was billed as “The Big Show, the Mammoth -Minstrels, and the Ice Ballet, The Merry Doll.”</p> - -<p>Every night I was there in my favorite place at the back of the house. I -soon learned the time schedule. I could manage to miss the skaters, the -jugglers, the “mammoth” minstrels, the acrobats, the jumbo elephants. I -would arrive a few minutes before Pavlova’s entrance. I watched and -worshipped from afar. I had never met her. “Who was I,” I asked myself, -“to meet a divinity?”</p> - -<p>One night, as the falling curtain cut her off from my view, a hand fell -on my shoulder. It was Dillingham, for whom my admiration remained but -my awe of him had decreased, since, by this time, we were both managers. -He looked at me with a little smile and said, “Come along, Sol. I’m -going back to her dressing-room.”</p> - -<p>The long hoped for but never really expected moment had come. Long had I -rehearsed the speech I should make when and if this moment ever arrived. -Now the time was here and I was dumb. I could only look.</p> - -<p>The Swan extended her hand as Dillingham presented me. She smiled. I -bent low over the world’s most expressive hand. At her suggestion the -three of us went to supper in the Palisades Amusement Park outdoor -restaurant, overlooking the Hudson and upper Manhattan.</p> - -<p>I shall have a few things to say about Pavlova, the artist, about -Pavlova, the <i>ballerina</i>. Perhaps even more important is Pavlova, the -woman, Pavlova, the human being. These qualities came tumbling forth at -our first meeting. The impression was ineradicable. As she ate a -prodigious steak, as she laughed and talked, here was a sure<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_21">{21}</a></span> and -certain indication of her insatiable love of life and its good things. -One of her tragedies, as I happen to know, is that fullness of life and -love were denied her.</p> - -<p>I already have described this night in detail. I mention it again -because it sets a time and place: the beginnings of the realization of -the other part of my dream. I was already happily embarked on my avowed -purpose of bringing music to the masses. Although I may not have -realized it, that night when we first dined and talked and laughed, when -we rode the roller-coaster, and together danced the fox-trot at the -Palisades Amusement Park, was the beginning of my career in the world of -the dance.</p> - -<p>During Pavlova’s Hippodrome engagement I doubt I missed a performance. I -also saw a good deal of her off stage. A close friendship was formed and -grew. Many suppers together, with Volinine, her partner, and Ivan -Clustine, her ballet-master.</p> - -<p>In the years that followed there developed a long and unforgettable -association. Her first tour under my management, and large parts of -others, we made together; and not, I may say, entirely for business -reasons. Thus did I learn to know the real Anna Pavlova.</p> - -<p>For those of a generation who know Pavlova only as a legend, there is a -large library of books about her as artist and dancer. As for myself, I -can only echo the opinion of J. L. Vaudoyer, the eminent French critic, -when he said: “Pavlova means to the dance, what a Racine is to poetry; a -Poussin to painting; a Gluck to music.”</p> - -<p>At the time of the Pavlova tours, the state of balletic appreciation in -America was certainly not very high. Pioneering in ballet was hard, -slogging work for all concerned, from every point of view. The endless -travel was not only boring but fatiguing. It took all our joint and -several wits to overcome the former, a strong constitution to endure the -latter. Traveling conditions then were infinitely more primitive than -now, making the strain of constant touring all the greater. The reason -that Pavlova willingly endured these grinding tours year after year was -because, in my belief, she simply could not live without working. These -tours were not predicated upon any necessity. Twenty-five years of her -life, at least one-half of it, she spent on trains and ships. Aside from -Ivy House, in London, to which she made brief visits, hotel rooms were -almost her only home. There was no financial necessity for this.</p> - -<p>Then, in addition to all the vicissitudes of travel under such -conditions, there persisted another aspect: the aesthetic inertia of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_22">{22}</a></span> -the public at the whistle-stops demanded every ounce and every facet of -audience persuasion.</p> - -<p>Among certain latter-day critics there exists a tendency not so much to -belittle as to try to underrate Pavlova, the dancer, Pavlova, the -artist; to negate her very great achievement Many of these denigrators -never saw her; still fewer knew her. Let me, for the benefit of the -doubters and those readers of another generation who are in the same -predicament, try to sum her up as she was, in terms of today.</p> - -<p>There exists a legend principally dealing with a certain intangible -quality she is said to have possessed. This legend is not exaggerated. -In any assessment of Anna Pavlova, her company, her productions, I ask -the reader to bear in mind that for twelve years she was the only ballet -pioneer regularly touring the country. She was the first to bring ballet -to hundreds of American communities. I should be the first to admit that -her stage productions, taken by and large, were less effective than are -those of today; but I ask you, at the same time, to bear in mind the -development of, and changes that have taken place in, the provincial -theatre in its progress from the gas-light age, and to try to compare -producing conditions as they were then, with the splendid auditoriums -and the modern equipment to be found in many places today. Compare, if -you will, the Broadway theatre productions of today with those of -thirty-five years ago.</p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova was a firm believer in the “star” system, firmly entrenched -as she was in the unassailable position of the <i>prima ballerina -assoluta</i>. Her companies were always adequate. They were completely and -perfectly disciplined. They were at all times reflections of her own -directing and organizing ability. Always there were supporting dancers -of more than competence. Her partners are names to be honored and -remembered in ballet: Adolph Bolm, with whom she made her first tour -away from Imperial Russia and its Ballet: Mikhail Mordkin, Laurent -Novikoff, Alexandre Volinine, and Pierre Vladimiroff; the latter three, -one in the American mid-west, one in Paris, and one in New York, still -founts of technical knowledge and tradition for aspiring dancers.</p> - -<p>In its time and place her repertoire was large and varied. Pavlova was -acquainting a great country with an art hitherto unknown. She was -bringing ballet to the masses. If there was more convention than -experiment in her programmes, it must be remembered that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_23">{23}</a></span> there did not -exist an audience even for convention, much less one ready for -experimentation. An audience had to be created.</p> - -<p>It should be noted that at this time there did not exist as well, so far -as this continent was concerned, as there did in Europe, any body of -informed critical opinion. The newspapers of the wide open spaces did -not have a single dance critic. In these places dance was left to music -and theatre reporters in the better instances; to sports writers on less -fortunate occasions.</p> - -<p>Conditions were not notably better in New York. Richard Aldrich, then -the music critic of <i>The New York Times</i>, was completely anti-dance, and -used the word “sacrilege” in connection with Pavlova and her -performances. More sympathetic attitudes were recorded later by W. J. -Henderson of <i>The Sun</i>, and by Deems Taylor. About the only New York -metropolitan critic with any real understanding of and appreciation for -the dance was that informed champion of the arts, Carl Van Vechten.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned Pavlova’s title as <i>prima ballerina assoluta</i>. She held -it indisputably. In the hierarchy of ballet it is a three-fold title, -signifying honor, dignity, and the establishment of its holder in the -highest rank. With Pavlova it was all these things. But it was something -more. Hers was a unique position. She was the possessor of an absolute -perfection, a perfection achieved in the most difficult of all -schools—the school of tradition of the classical ballet. She possessed, -as an artist, the accumulated wisdom of a unique aesthetic language. -This language she uttered with a beauty and conviction greater than that -of her contemporaries.</p> - -<p>Unlike certain <i>ballerinas</i> of today, and one in particular who would -like ballet-lovers to regard her as the protégé, disciple, and -reincarnation of Pavlova rolled into one, Pavlova never indulged in -exhibitions of technical feats of remarkable virtuosity for the mere -sake of eliciting gasps from an audience. Hers was an exhibition of the -traditional school at its best, a school famed for its soundness. Her -balance was something almost incredible; but never was it used for -circus effects. There was in everything she did an exquisite lyricism, -and an incomparable grace. And I come once again to that intangible -quality of hers. Diaghileff, with whom her independent, individualistic -spirit could remain only a brief time, called her “ ... the greatest -<i>ballerina</i> in the world. Like a Taglioni, she doesn’t dance, but -floats; of her, also, one might say she could walk over a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_24">{24}</a></span> cornfield -without breaking a stalk.” The distinguished playwright, John Van -Druten, years later, used a similar simile, when he described Pavlova’s -dancing “as the wind passing like a shadow over a field of wheat.”</p> - -<p>Does it matter that Pavlova did not leave behind any examples of great -choreographic art? Is it of any lasting importance that her repertoire -was not studded with experiments, but rather was composed of sound, -well-made pieces, chiefly by her ballet-master, Ivan Clustine? Hers was -a highly personal art. The purity and nobility of her style compensated -and more than compensated for any production shortcomings. The important -thing she left behind is an ineffable spirit that inhabits every -performance of classical ballet, every classroom where classical ballet -is taught. As a dancer, no one had had a greater flexibility in styles, -a finer dramatic ability, a deeper sense of character, a wider range of -facial expressions. Let us not forget her successful excursions into the -Oriental dance, the Hindu, the dances of Japan.</p> - -<p>Above and beyond all this, I like to remember the great humanity and -simplicity of Pavlova, the woman. I have seen all sides of her -character. There are those who could testify to a very human side. A -friend of mine, on being taken back stage at the Manhattan Opera House -in New York to meet Pavlova for the first time, was greeted by a -fusillade of ballet slippers being hurled with unerring aim, not at him, -but at the departing back of her husband, Victor Dandré, all to the -accompaniment of pungent Russian imprecations. Under the strain of -constant performance and rehearsal, she was human enough to be ill -tempered. It was quite possible for her to be completely unreasonable.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, there are innumerable instances of her -warmheartedness, her generosity, her tenderness. Passionately fond of -children, and denied any of her own, the tenderness and concern she -showed for all children was touching. This took on a very practical -expression in the home she established and maintained in a <i>hôtel privé</i> -in Paris for some thirty-odd refugee children. This she supported, not -only with money, but with a close personal supervision.</p> - -<p>Worldly things, money, jewelry, meant little to her. She was a truly -simple person. Much of her most valuable jewelry was rarely, if ever, -worn. Most of it remained in a safe-deposit vault in a Broadway bank in -New York City, where it was found only after her death.</p> - -<p>Money was anything but a motivating force in her life. I remem<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_25">{25}</a></span>ber once -when she was playing an engagement in Chicago. For some reason business -was bad, very bad, as, on more than one occasion, it was. The public at -this time was firmly staying away from the theatre. I was in a depressed -mood, not only because expenses were high and receipts low, but because -of the effect that half-empty houses might have on Pavlova and her -spirits.</p> - -<p>While I tried to put on a smiling front that night at supper after the -performance, Pavlova soon penetrated my poker-faced veneer. She leaned -across the table, took my hand.</p> - -<p>“What’s wrong, Hurokchik?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” I shrugged, with as much gallantry as I could muster.</p> - -<p>She continued to regard me seriously for a moment. Then:</p> - -<p>“Nonsense.” She repeated it with her usual finality of emphasis. -“Nonsense. I know what’s wrong. Business is bad, and I’m to blame for -it.... Look here ... I don’t want a penny, not a <i>kopeck</i>.... If you can -manage, pay the boys and girls; but as for me, nothing. Nothing, do you -understand? I don’t want it, and I shan’t take it.”</p> - -<p>Pavlova’s human qualities were, perhaps, never more in evidence than at -those times when, between tours and new productions, she rested “at -home,” at lovely Ivy House, in that northern London suburb, Golder’s -Green, not far from where there now rests all that was mortal of her: -East Wall 3711.</p> - -<p>Here in the rambling unpretentiousness of Ivy House, among her -treasures, surrounded by her pets, she was completely herself. Here such -parties as she gave took place. They were small parties, and the -“chosen” who were invited were old friends and colleagues. Although the -parties were small in size, the food was abundant and superlative. On -her American tours she had discovered that peculiarly American -institution, the cafeteria. After rehearsals, she would often pop into -one with the entire company. Eyes a-twinkle, she would wait until all -the company had chosen their various dishes, then select her own; after -depositing her heavily laden tray at her own table, she would pass among -the tables where the company was seated and sample something from every -dish. Pavlova adored good food. She saw to it that good food was served -at Ivy House and, for one so slight of figure, consumed it in amazing -abundance.</p> - -<p>One of these Ivy House parties in particular I remember vividly, for her -old friend, Féodor Chaliapine, that stupendous figure of the world of -the theatre who had played such an important part in my own life and -career, was, on this occasion, the life of the party. He<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_26">{26}</a></span> was in a -gargantuan mood. He had already dined before he arrived at Ivy House. I -could imagine the dinner he had put away, for often his table abounded -with such delicacies as a large salmon, often a side of lamb, suckling -pigs, and tureens of <i>schchee</i> and <i>borscht</i>. But despite this, he did -ample justice to Pavlova’s buffet and bar. His jokes and stories were -told to a spellbound audience. These were the rare occasions on which I -have seen this great musician, with his sombre, rather monkish face, -really relax.</p> - -<p>This night Pavlova was equally animated, and Chaliapine and she vied -with each other in story-telling. I studied them both as I watched them. -Pavlova had told me of her own origins and first beginnings; about her -father, her mother, her childhood poverty. Here she sat, sprung from -such a humble start, the world’s greatest dancer, the chatelaine of a -beautiful and simple home, the entire world at her feet.</p> - -<p>Facing her was another achievement, the poor boy of Kazan, who, in his -early life, suffered the pangs of hunger and misery which are the common -experience of the Russian poor. He had told me how, as a lad of -seventeen in the town of Kazan without a kopeck in his pocket, day after -day, he would walk through the streets and hungrily gaze into the -windows of the bakers’ shops with hopeless longing. “Hurok,” he had -said, “hunger is the most debasing of all suffering; it makes a man like -a beast, it humiliates him.”</p> - -<p>One of the few serious stories he told that evening was of the time when -he and my childhood idol, Maxim Gorky, were working on the boats on the -Volga and had to improvise trousers out of two pairs of old wheat-sacks -which they tied round their waists. Gorky and Chaliapine were both from -Kazan and of the same age. Tonight, as the party wore on, Chaliapine -sang folk songs, gay songs, sad songs, ribald songs. Loving fine -raiment, tonight he had worn a tall gray top hat. When he arrived and we -had greeted him in the hallway, I caught him watching his reflection in -the long mirror and getting great satisfaction out of it. Now, as he -sang, he became a Tsar, and it was difficult to imagine that he had -never been anything but a great Tsar all his life.</p> - -<p>The party waxed even gayer, the hour grew late. We were all sitting on -the floor: Pavlova, Chaliapine, his wife Masha, and the other guests. -Chaliapine had been gazing at Pavlova for some time. Suddenly he turned -and fixed his eyes on his wife appraisingly.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_27">{27}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Masha, my dear,” he said, after a long moment, “you don’t object to my -having a child by Annushka?”</p> - -<p>Masha smiled tolerantly and quickly replied:</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you ask her?”</p> - -<p>Chaliapine, with all the dignity and solemnity of a Boris Godunoff, put -the question to Pavlova. Pavlova’s eyes fixed themselves on his, with -equal gravity.</p> - -<p>“My dear Fedya,” she said, quite solemnly, “such matters are not -discussed in public.”</p> - -<p>She paused, then added mischievously:</p> - -<p>“Let us make an appointment. I am leaving for Paris in a day or two.... -Perhaps I shall take you along with me....”</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>In all the dance, Pavlova was my first love. It was from her I received -my strongest and most lasting impressions. She proved and realized my -dreams. To the Western World, and particularly to America, she brought a -new and stimulating form of art expression. She introduced standards, if -not ideas, that have had an almost revolutionary effect.</p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova had everything, both as an artist and as a human being.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_28">{28}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_3">3.</a> Three Ladies: Not From the Maryinsky</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="r"> -A. <i>A NEGLECTED AMERICAN GENIUS—AND<br /> -HER “CHILDREN”</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span><b>LTHOUGH</b> my association with her was marked by a series of explosions -and an overall atmosphere of tragi-comedy, it is a source of pride to me -that I was able to number among my dance connections that neglected -American genius, Isadora Duncan.</p> - -<p>It was Anna Pavlova who spurred my enthusiasm to bring Isadora to her -own country, in 1922, a fact accomplished only with considerable -difficulty, as those who have read my earlier volume of memoirs will -recollect.</p> - -<p>Despite the fact they had little in common, Pavlova had a tremendous -respect for this tall American dancer, who abhorred ballet.</p> - -<p>Genius is a dangerous word. Often it is bandied about carelessly and, -sometimes, indiscriminately. In the case of this long-limbed girl from -California it could not be applied more accurately or more precisely, -for she was a genius as a person as well as an artist. She brought to -Europe and to her own America, as well, a new aesthetic.</p> - -<p>One of four children of a rebellious mother who divorced the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_29">{29}</a></span> father she -did not love, Isadora’s childhood was spent in a quasi-Bohemian -atmosphere in her native San Francisco, where her mother eked out a -dubious living by giving music lessons. Isadora was the youngest of the -four. Brother Augustin took to the theatre; Brother Raymond to long -hair, sandals, Greek robes, and asceticism; Sister Elizabeth eventually -took over Isadora’s Berlin School.</p> - -<p>What started Isadora on the road of the dance may never be known; -although it is a well established fact that she danced as a child in San -Francisco, and early in her career traveled across the United States, -dancing her way, more or less, to New York. I am reasonably certain that -her dancing of that period bore little or no relation to that of her -later period. Her early works were, for the most part, innocuous little -pieces done to snippets of music by Romantic composers. Her triumphs -were in monumental works by Beethoven, Wagner, César Franck.</p> - -<p>Her battle was for “freedom”: freedom in the dance; freedom in wearing -apparel; freedom for women; freedom for the body; freedom for the human -spirit. In the dance, ballet was to her a distortion of the human form. -Personally, I suspect the truth was that the strict discipline of ballet -was something to which Isadora could not submit. Inspiration was her -guiding force. She wore Greek draperies when she danced; her feet were -bare. Yet there are photographs of Isadora, taken in the later -’nineties, showing her wearing ballet slippers, and a costume in which -considerable lace is to be seen. It was Europe, I feel, that “freed” her -dance.</p> - -<p>Isadora’s was a European triumph. In turn she conquered Germany, -Austria-Hungary, Russia, Greece. She was hailed and fêted. There was no -place in the American theatre for Isadora’s simplicity and utter -artlessness. It was in Budapest that the tide turned for her, thanks -particularly to an able manager, one Alexander Gross. While I never knew -Mr. Gross, I believe he fulfilled the true manager’s purpose and -function. Gross made an audience for a great artist, an audience where -one did not exist before, until, eventually, all Europe was her -audience.</p> - -<p>I have said that inspiration was Isadora’s guide. She did, of course, -have theories of dance; but these theories were, for the most part, -expressed in vague and general, rather than in precise and particular, -terms. They can be summed up in a sentence. She believed that dance was -life: therefore, the expression of some inner impulse, or urge, or -inspiration. The source of this impulse she believed was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_30">{30}</a></span> centered in -the solar plexus. She also believed she was of tremendous importance. -Her own ideas of her own importance were, in my opinion, sometimes -inflated.</p> - -<p>To her eternal credit it must be noted that she battled against sugary -music, against trivial themes, against artificiality of all sorts. When -her “inspiration” did not proceed directly from the solar plexus, she -found it in nature—in the waves of the sea and their rhythms, in the -simple process of the opening of a flower.</p> - -<p>These frank and simple and desirable objectives, if they had been all, -would not have excited the tremendous opposition that was hers -throughout her lifetime. Nor did this opposition, I believe, spring -solely from her unconventional ideas on love and sex. Isadora insisted -on becoming a citizen of the world, a champion of the world’s less -fortunate, the underprivileged. In doing so she cleared the air of a lot -of nonsense and a lot of nineteenth century prudery which was by way of -being carried over into the twentieth.</p> - -<p>In Europe, in each and every country she visited, she arrayed herself on -the side of the angels, i.e., the revolutionaries. The same is true in -her own country. She shocked her wealthy patrons with demonstrations of -her own particular brand of democracy.</p> - -<p>There was an occasion, during one of her appearances at the Metropolitan -Opera House, when she walked with that especial Isadorian grace to the -footlights and gave the audience, with special reference to the -boxholders, the benefits of the following speech:</p> - -<p>“Beethoven and Schubert,” she said, “were children of the people all -their lives. They were poor men and their great work was inspired by and -belongs to humanity. The people need great drama, music, dancing. We -went over to the East Side and gave a performance for nothing. What -happened? The people sat there transfixed, with tears rolling down their -cheeks. That is how they cared for it. Funds of life and poetry and art -are waiting to spring from the people of the East Side.... Build for -them a great amphitheatre, the only democratic form of theatre, where -everyone has an equal view, no boxes; no balconies.... Why don’t you -give art to the people who really need it? Great music should no longer -be kept for the delight of a handful of cultured people. It should be -given free to the masses. It is as necessary for them as air and bread. -Give it to them, for it is the spiritual wine of humanity.”</p> - -<p>As for the ballet, she continued to have none of it. She once remarked: -“The old-fashioned waltz and mazurka are merely an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_31">{31}</a></span> expression of sickly -sentimentality and romance which our youth and our times have outgrown. -The minuet is but the expression of the unctuous servility of courtiers -at the time of Louis XIV and hooped skirts.”</p> - -<p>Isadora’s European successes led to the establishment of schools of her -own, where her theories could be expounded and developed. The first of -these was in Berlin, and as her pupils, her “children,” developed, she -appeared with them. When she first went to Russia, the controversy she -stirred up has become a matter of ballet history; and it is a matter of -record that she influenced that father of the “romantic revolution” in -ballet, Michel Fokine.</p> - -<p>Russia figured extensively in Isadora’s life, for she gave seasons -there, first in 1905, and again in 1907 and 1912. Then, revolutionary -that she was, she returned to the Soviet in 1921, established a school -there and, in 1922, married the “hooligan” poet, Sergei Essenin. -Throughout her life, Isadora had denounced marriage as an institution, -disavowed it, fought it, bore three children outside it, on the ground -that it existed only for the enslavement of woman.</p> - -<p>There had been three Duncan seasons in America before I brought her, in -1922, for what proved to be her final visit to her native country. The -earlier American series were in 1908, when she danced with Walter -Damrosch and the New York Symphony Orchestra, at the Metropolitan Opera -House, prior to a tour; in 1911, when she again danced with Damrosch; -again in 1916, when she returned to California, early the next year, -after a twenty-two years’ absence. She also visited New York, briefly, -in 1915, impulsively renting a studio at Fourth Avenue and Twenty-third -Street, with the idea of establishing a school. It was during this brief -visit that she made history of a kind by suddenly improvising a dance to -the French national anthem at the Metropolitan Opera House.</p> - -<p>As I have pointed out, enlightened dance criticism, so far as the -newspapers were concerned, in those days was almost non-existent. For -those readers who might be interested, however, there are available, in -the files of <i>The New York Times</i>, penetrating analyses of her -performances by the discerning Carl Van Vechten.</p> - -<p>The story of Isadora’s intervening years is marked by light and shadow. -Hers was a life that could not long retain happiness within its grasp. -Snatches of happiness were hers in her brief association with England’s -greatly talented stage designer, that misunderstood genius of the -theatre, Gordon Craig, the son of Ellen Terry, by whom<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_32">{32}</a></span> Isadora had a -child; and yet another child by the lover who was known only as -Lohengrin.</p> - -<p>Her passionate love of children was touching. Never was it better -exemplified than by her several schools, her devotion to the girls and -her concern for them. Most of all was it apparent in her selflessness in -her attitude towards her own two children. It is not difficult to -imagine the depth of the tragedy for her when a car in which they were -riding on their way to Versailles toppled into the Seine, and the -children were drowned. A third child, her dream of comfort and -consolation, died at birth.</p> - -<p>It was in an attempt to forget this last tragedy that she brought her -school to New York. That same Otto Kahn, who had made Pavlova’s first -visit to America possible, came to her rescue and footed the bills for a -four weeks’ season at the old Century Theatre, which stood in lower -Central Park West, where Brother Augustin held forth with Greek drama -and biblical verse, and Isadora and the “children” danced. The public -remained away. There was a press appeal for funds with which to -liquidate a $12,000 indebtedness and to provide funds with which to get -Isadora and the “children” to Italy. Another distinguished art patron, -the late Frank Vanderlip, and others came to the rescue with cash and -note endorsements. Thus, once again, Isadora put her native America -behind her in disgust. Her parting shot at the country of her birth was -a blast at Americans living and battening in luxury on their war profits -while Europe bled.</p> - -<p>Her 1916-1917 visit to her home shores was no more auspicious than the -others. She danced, as I have said, at the Metropolitan Opera House. -Lover Lohengrin gave her a magnificent party following the performance, -a soirée that ended in an expensive and scandalous debácle. Isadora sold -her jewels piece by piece, and succeeded in establishing her school at -Long Beach. Quickly the money disappeared, and Gordon Selfridge, the -London equivalent of Marshall Field, paid her passage to London. The -“children,” now grown up into the “Isadorables,” remained behind to make -themselves American careers.</p> - -<p>It was after Isadora’s departure for London, in 1917, that I undertook -to help the six “children” to attain their desires. They were a -half-dozen of the loveliest children imaginable.</p> - -<p>For their American debut as an independent group, we first engaged -George Copeland, specialist in the works of contemporary French and -Spanish composers, and an artist of the first rank, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_33">{33}</a></span> later, Beryl -Rubinstein, American composer and teacher, and until his recent death -director of the Cleveland Institute, as accompanists.</p> - -<p>Smart New York had adopted the “Isadorables.” The fashionable magazines -had taken them up and had spread Dr. Arnold Genthe’s photographs of -Anna, Lysel, Gretl, Thérése, Erica, and Irma over their pages. Frank -Crowninshield championed them. During a hot June they sold out a -half-dozen performances in Carnegie Hall, which takes some doing at any -time of the year. Following a successful tour, I presented them at the -Metropolitan Opera House, this time with an orchestra.</p> - -<p>The girls, charming, delightful, fresh, were a direct product of -Isadora, for which she used herself as model. Theirs was a reproduction -of Isadora’s art. One of them functions actively today, Maria Thérésa, -giving out a fine, strong, sturdy reflection of Isadora’s training and -ideas. Basically, as an individualist, Isadora was a solo artist. She -made no great effort to build up group dances into a series of linked -dances that result in some form of dance drama. Such mass dances as she -arranged were in imitation of the Greek chorus. Broken down into simple -elements, they were nothing more than lines of girls, all of whom -repeated the same simple movements. Her own creative gifts, which were -magnificent, found their expression in her solo dances, and it is in -this respect Maria Thérésa splendidly carries on.</p> - -<p>It was in Germany that Isadora’s ideas made the deepest impression, and -any legacy she may have left finds its expression in the “free” school -that comes out of that country. If she had no abiding place, Berlin saw -more of her when she was at her best than any other country. It was -there that the term “goddess” was attached to her. Even the sick were -brought to see the performances of the <i>Göttliche Heilige</i> Isadora in -order that they might be cured. The serious German writers were greatly -impressed. Isadora expressed it thus: “The weekly receptions at our -house in Victoria Strasse became the centre of artistic and literary -enthusiasm. Here took place many learned discussions on the dance as a -fine art; for the Germans take every art discussion most seriously, and -give the deepest consideration to it. My dance became the subject of -violent and even fiery debates. Whole columns constantly appeared in all -the papers, sometimes hailing me as a genius of a newly discovered art, -sometimes denouncing me as a destroyer of the real classic dance, i.e., -the ballet.”</p> - -<p>In <i>Impresario</i> I have written about Isadora’s last American tour,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_34">{34}</a></span> -under my management, in all its more lurid aspects. In February, 1923, -she returned to France, and in 1924 went back to Russia with her -poet-husband, Essenin. Not long after, Essenin hanged himself to a hook -on the wall of his room in the Hotel Angleterre, in Leningrad. In 1927, -Isadora returned to Paris, and on 8th July gave her last concert at the -Théâtre Mogador.</p> - -<p>Her last conversation with me in Paris was of the “children.” This time -she was referring to the pupils at her school in Russia. As I listened, -I could only feel that these “children” were to her but symbols of her -own two children wastefully drowned in the Seine. She wanted me to bring -her Russian “children” to America—a visit, as it were, of her own -spirit to her native land which had refused to accept her.</p> - -<p>I promised.</p> - -<p>In 1928, I was able to fulfill that promise by bringing fifteen of them, -chosen by Irma of the “Isadorables,” for a tour. Irma came with them, -presided over them; brought them back for a second tour. Irma now lives -quietly in the Connecticut countryside.</p> - -<p>A twisting scarf, caught in the wheels of the car in which she was -riding, ended the earthly career of a misunderstood American genius. Was -the end deliberate? I only know she longed to die, she with the -passionate love for life.</p> - -<p>A tremendous freedom-loving American, she may, I feel, be called the -first American dancer, in the sense that she brought a new style and a -new manner, away from the accepted form of ballet. I, for one, believe -that Isadora did more than any one else I know for the dance in America, -and received less gratitude and recognition for her contribution.</p> - -<p>Now that she is dead, I feel for her exactly as I always felt. Though we -do not love our friends for one particular quality but as a whole, there -is usually an element which, while the friend is still with us, -especially appeals to us, and the memory of which we most cherish when -he or she is absent for a while or for ever. For me that element in -Isadora was and is the extreme gentleness hidden in her heart of hearts. -Those who knew her only as a combative spirit in the world of the dance -may be astonished at that statement. Yet I hold that gentleness to have -been absolutely fundamental in her character and that not a few of her -troubles were attributable to continuing and exasperating outrage of it.</p> - -<p>There was a superficial side of her that may seem to contradict<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_35">{35}</a></span> that -gentleness. She had exasperating eccentricities, stupid affectations. -Her childishness and capriciousness, her downright wilfulness could -drive me nearly to distraction. She could, and often did waste infinite -hours of my time, and her own and others’ money. She lacked discipline -in herself, her life, her work. She could have been less arbitrary in -many things, including her condemnation of ballet. On the other hand, -she had a quality of communication rare indeed in the theatre. Her -faults were, as I have said, superficialities. At base she was a -genuinely gentle person.</p> - -<p>Just because she was gentle she could, her sympathy being aroused, exert -herself to an extraordinary degree and after no gentle fashion on behalf -of those things in which she believed, and of others, particularly -artists. For the same reason, she frequently could not properly exert -herself on her own behalf. She was weary (weary unto death at the last) -when that spring of gentleness, in which some of her best work had its -origin, failed her. Hers was an intellect, in my opinion, of wider -range, of sterner mettle, of tougher integrity, of more persistent -energy and of more imaginative quality than those of her detractors. I -hold because of Isadora’s innate gentleness, and the fact it was so -fundamental a thing in her, being exasperated both by the events of her -life and by her intellect’s persistent commentary upon those events, she -became towards the close so utterly weary and exhausted that any -capacity for a rational synthesis was lost. Hers was a romantic nature, -and a rational synthesis usually proceeds by the tenderness of the heart -working upon the intellect to urge upon it some suspension of judgment, -and not by the hardness of the intellect working upon the heart and -bidding it, in reason’s name, to cease expecting to find things other -and better than they are: the hearts of other humans more tender and -their heads one whit less dense.</p> - -<p>A few words on what has been criticized by many as her “free living.” -Today an unthinking license prevails in many circles. If Isadora’s life -displayed “license” in this sense, it certainly was not an unthinking -“license.” Isadora strongly held theories about personal freedom of -thought and behavior and dared to act according to them. Those theories -may be wrong. That is a problem I have not here space to discuss. But -that, believing in those theories, Isadora acted upon them and did not -reserve them merely for academic discussion, I hold to her eternal -credit. That Isadora did others and herself damage in the process must -be admitted. But I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_36">{36}</a></span> have observed that many “conventional” persons do -others and themselves a great deal of damage without displaying a tithe -of Isadora’s integrity and courage, since they act crudely upon theories -in which they no longer in their heart of hearts believe, or contradict -their theories in captious action for lack of courage to discover new -theories. Let us not forget that “few know the use of life before ’tis -past.” Isadora died before she was fifty, endowed with a temperament -little calculated to make easy the paths of true wisdom, paths which, I -venture to suggest, often contradict the stereotyped notions of them -entertained by those who are unable or unwilling too closely to consider -the matter. To her personal tragedies must be added the depressing -influence of the unfathomable indifference of her countrymen to art and -artists and to herself.</p> - -<p>I take it I have said enough to indicate that such “conventional” -solutions as may occur to some readers were inadmissible in Isadora’s -case, just as inadmissible in fact as they would be in a novel by -Dostoievsky. In any event, she paid to the end for any mistakes she may -have made, and it is not our duty to sit in judgment on her, whether one -theoretically disapproves of her use of what sometimes has been called -the “escape-road.” It is one’s duty to understand, and by understanding -to forgive.</p> - -<p>I have heard it remarked that there was a streak of cruelty in Isadora. -Gentle natures of acute sensibility and strong intelligence, long -exasperated by indifference and opposition to what they hold of -sovereign importance in art and life, are apt to turn cruel and even -vindictive at times. I never witnessed her alleged cruelty or -vindictiveness to any one and I will not go on hearsay.</p> - -<p>One of the great satisfactions of a long career in the world of dance is -that I was able to be of some service to this neglected genius. I can -think of no finer summation of her than the words of that strange, aloof -genius of the British theatre, Gordon Craig, when he wrote:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“ .... She springs from the Great Race——<br /></span> -<span class="i5">From the line of Sovereigns, who<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Maintain the world and make it move,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">From the Courageous Giants,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">The Guardians of Beauty——<br /></span> -<span class="i5">The Solver of all Riddles.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_37">{37}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<p class="r"> -<i>B. COLORED LIGHTS AND FLUTTERING SCARVES</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>It is a far cry from Isadora to another American dancer, whose -“children” I toured across America and back, in 1926.</p> - -<p>Loie Fuller, “the lady with the scarf,” was at that period championed by -her friend, the late Queen Marie of Roumania, when that royal lady -embarked upon a lecture tour of the United States that same year. Loie -Fuller was loosely attached to the royal entourage.</p> - -<p>“La Loie” had established a school in Paris, and wanted to exhibit the -prowess of her pupils. I was inveigled into bringing them quite as much -by Loie Fuller’s dynamic, active manager, Mrs. Bloch, as I was by the -aging dancer herself.</p> - -<p>Loie Fuller was something of a phenomenon. Born in Chicago, in 1862, her -first fame was gained as a child temperance lecturer in the mid-west. -According to her biographers, she took some dancing lessons, but found -the lessons too difficult and abandoned them after a short time. -Switching to the study of voice, she gave up her youthful Carrie Nation -attacks on alcohol and obtained a singing part in a stage production. As -the story goes, while she was appearing in this stage role, a friend in -India made her a gift of a long scarf of very light weight silk. Playing -with her present, watching it float through the air with the greatest of -ease, she found her vocation. It was as simple as that.</p> - -<p>Here was something new: a dance in which a great amount of fluttering -silk was kept aloft, the while upon it there constantly played -variegated lights, projected by what in the profession is known as a -“color-wheel,” a circular device containing various colored media, -rotated before an arc-lamp. Thus was born the <i>Serpentine Dance</i>.</p> - -<p>Here was no struggle on the part of the artist to find her medium of -expression, no seeking for a new technique or slogging effort perfecting -an old one; no hours spent sweating at the <i>barre</i>; no heartache. Loie -Fuller was not concerned with steps, with style, with a unique and -individual quality of movement. Loie Fuller had a scarf. Loie Fuller had -an instantaneous success. Her career was made on the <i>Serpentine Dance</i>. -But she also had one other inspiration. A “sunrise” stage effect that -she used was mistaken by the audience as a dance of fire, as the light -rays touched her flowing scarves and draperies. “La Loie” was not one to -miss a chance. She gathered her electricians about her—for in the early -days of stage lighting<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_38">{38}</a></span> with electricity nothing was impossible. The -revolving “light-wheels” were increased in number, as were the -spot-lights.</p> - -<p>Since all this happened in Paris, Loie Fuller’s <i>Danse de Feu</i> became to -France what the <i>Serpentine Dance</i> had been to America. The French -adopted her as their own. Widely loved, she became “La Loie.” Her stage -arrangements were often startling; they could not always be called -dancing. The arms and feet of her “children” were always subordinated to -the movements of the draperies. So tricky was the business of the -draperies that it is said that none of her designers or seamstresses -were permitted to know more than a small part of their actual -construction.</p> - -<p>Her imitators were many, with the result that, for a time, the musical -comedy stages of both Europe and America had an inundation of -illuminated dry goods. It was the “children” who kept “La Loie’s” -serpentine and fire dances alive.</p> - -<p>When Loie Fuller suggested the American tour, the idea interested me -because of the novelty involved. It was, incidentally, my only -“incognito” tour. I accepted an invitation from Queen Marie of Roumania -to visit her at the Royal Palace in Bucharest to discuss the proposed -tour with Her Majesty and Loie Fuller, who was a close friend and -confidante of the Queen. The tour was in the interest of one of the -Queen’s pet charities and, moreover, it had diplomatic overtones. -Naturally, under the circumstances, no managerial auspices were credited -on the programmes.</p> - -<p>In addition to the purely Loie Fuller characteristic numbers, the Loie -Fuller Dancers, on this tour, offered <i>Some Dance Scenes from the Fairy -Tale of Her Majesty Queen Marie’s</i> “<i>The Lilly of Life</i>,” as <i>presented -at the Grand Opera, Paris</i>.</p> - -<p>Apart from this, the “children” had all the old Loie Fuller tricks, and -a few new ones. Their dance vocabulary was far from extensive, but there -was a pleasant enough quality about it.</p> - -<p>When I made the tour, in association with Queen Marie, the “children” -were, to put it kindly, on the mature side; and it took a great deal of -their dramatic, vital and dynamic managers drive to keep the silks -fluttering aloft. Mrs. Bloch was a remarkable woman, who had handled the -“children” for Loie Fuller a long time.</p> - -<p>The tour of the Loie Fuller Dancers is not one of my proudest -achievements; but I know the gay colours, the changing lights brought -pleasure to many.</p> - -<p>Years later, on a visit to Paris, I received a telephone call from<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_39">{39}</a></span> Mrs. -Bloch, requesting an appointment. It was arranged for the following day. -At the appointed hour I went down to the foyer of the Hotel Meurice to -await her coming.</p> - -<p>Some minutes later, I observed an elderly lady, supported by a cane, -enter and cross the foyer, walking slowly as the aged do, and using her -cane noticeably to assist her. I paid scant attention until, from where -I sat near the desk, I overheard her explaining to the <i>conciérge</i> that -she had a “rendezvous” with Monsieur Hurok.</p> - -<p>I simply did not recognize the human dynamo of 1926. A quarter of a -century had slipped by. Much of that time, she told me, she had spent in -Africa. Despite the change in her physical appearance, despite the toll -of the years, the flame still burned within her.</p> - -<p>Her mission? To try to get me to bring the Loie Fuller Dancers to -America for another tour.</p> - -<p>As I observed the changes that had taken place in their manager, I could -not help visualizing what twenty-five years must have done to the -“children.”</p> - -<p class="r"> -C. <i>A TEUTONIC PRIESTESS</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>My dance associations in what I may call my “early middle” period led me -into excursions far afield from that form of dance expression which is -to me the most completely satisfying form of theatrical experience.</p> - -<p>For the sake of the record, let us set the date of this period as 1930. -Surely there have been few in the history of the dance whose approach to -the medium was so foreign to and so different from the classical ballet, -where lie my deepest interests and my chief delight, than that Teutonic -priestess, Mary Wigman.</p> - -<p>When I brought Wigman to America, shortly after the Great Crash, she was -no longer young. She had been born in Germany, in 1886, and could hardly -have been called a “baby ballerina.” Originally a pupil of Emile Jacques -Dalcroze, the father of Eurhythmics, whose pupils in a “demonstration” -had kindled Wigman’s interest in the dance, she did not remain long with -him. Dalcroze himself, at this stage, apparently had little interest in -dancing. However, he established certain methods which proved of -interest to certain gifted dancers. The Dalcroze basis was musical, and -his chief function was to foster a feeling for music in his pupils. -Music frustrated, handicapped, restricted her, Wigman felt. -Individualist that she<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_40">{40}</a></span> was, she left her teacher in order to work out -her own dance destiny. There followed a period of some uncertainty on -her part, and, for a time, she became a pupil of the Hungarian teacher, -Rudolf von Laban, who laid down in pre-war Germany the foundations for -modern dance. Unlike Isadora Duncan, Laban had no aversion to ballet. As -a matter of fact, he liked much of it, was influenced by it; was -impressed by the Diaghileff Ballet, was friendly with Diaghileff, and -became an intimate of Michel Fokine. His later violent reaction from -ballet was certainly not based on lack of knowledge of it.</p> - -<p>At the Laban school, Wigman collaborated with him, and having a streak -of choreographic genius, was able to put some of Laban’s theories into -practical form. However, Mary Wigman’s forceful personality was greater -than any school and, in 1919, she broke away from Laban, and formed a -school of her own. She abandoned what were to her the restricting -influences of formal music, as Isadora had abandoned clothing -restrictions. A dancer of tremendous power, like Isadora she had an -overwhelming personality. Again, like Isadora, all this had a tendency -to make her pupils only pale imitations of herself. Wigman’s public -career, a secondary matter with her, actually began in Dresden, in 1918, -with her <i>Seven Dances of Life</i>. Dresden was her temple. Here the -Teutonic Priestess of the Dance presided over her personal religion of -movement. German girls were joined by Americans. The disciples grew in -number and spread out through Germany like proselyting missionaries. -Wigman groups radiated the gospel until one found schools and factories -and societies turning out <i>en masse</i> for “demonstrations” of the Wigman -method. I have said that Wigman found music a deterrent to her method.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, one of the most important features of her “school” -was a serious, thorough, Germanic research into the question of what she -felt was the proper musical accompaniment for dance. Her pupils learned -to devise their own rhythmic accompaniment. In her show pieces, at any -rate, Wigman’s technique was to have the music for the dance composed -simultaneously with the creation of the dance movements—certainly a new -type of collaboration.</p> - -<p>In addition to forming a “<i>schule</i>,” where great emphasis was laid on -“<i>spannungen</i>,” perhaps best explained as tensions and relaxations, she -also created a philosophical cult in that strange hot-house that was -pre-war Germany, with an intellectualized approach to sex.</p> - -<p>I had known about her and her work long before I signed a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_41">{41}</a></span> contract with -her for the 1930-1931 season. Pavlova had talked to me about her and had -aroused my curiosity and interest; but I was unable to imagine what -might be America’s reaction to her. I was turning the idea over in my -mind, when there appeared at my office,—in those days in West -Forty-second Street, overlooking Bryant Park,—a young and earnest -enthusiast to plead her case. His name was John Martin.</p> - -<p>In an earlier chapter I have pointed out the low estate of dance -criticism of that period. In its wisdom, the <i>New York Times</i> had, -shortly before the period of which I now write, taken tentative steps to -correct this deficiency by creating a dance department on the paper, -with John Martin engaged to report the dance. Martin’s earnest and -special pleading on behalf of Mary Wigman moved me and, as always, eager -to experiment and present something new and fresh, I decided to cast the -die.</p> - -<p>The effect of my first announcement of her coming was a bit -disconcerting. The first to react were the devotees. There was a -fanaticism about them that was disturbing. It is one thing to have a -handful of vociferous idolaters, and quite another to be able to fill -houses with paying customers night after night.</p> - -<p>When I met Wigman at the pier on her arrival in New York, I greeted a -middle-aged muscular Amazon, a rather stuffy appearing Teutonic Amazon, -wearing a beaver coat of dubious age, and a hat that had seen better -days. But what struck me more forcibly than the plainness of her apparel -was the woman herself. She greeted me with a warm smile; her gray eyes -were large, frank, and widely set; and from beneath the venerable and -rather battered hat, fell a shock of thick, wavy brown hair. She spoke -softly, deeply, in a completely unaccented English with a British -intonation.</p> - -<p>There was no ballet company with her, no ship-load of scenery, -properties and costumes. Her company was made up of two persons in -addition to herself: a lesser Amazon in the person of Meta Mens, who -presided over Wigman’s costumes—one trunk—and her percussion -instruments—tam-tams, Balinese gongs, and a fistful of reedy wind -instruments; the other, a lanky, pale-faced chap with hyper-thyroid -eyes, Hanns Hastings, who composed and played such music as Wigman used.</p> - -<p>On the day before the opening, I gave a party at the Plaza Hotel as a -semi-official welcome on the part of our American dancers, among whom -were included that great pioneer of our native<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_42">{42}</a></span> contemporary dance, -Martha Graham, together with Doris Humphrey, Charles Weidman, and, of -course, that champion of the modern dance, John Martin.</p> - -<p>Much depended upon Wigman’s first New York performance. A tour had been -arranged, but not booked. There is a decided difference in the terms. In -the language of the theatre, a tour is not “booked” until the contracts -have been signed. The preliminary arrangements are called “pencilling -in.” The pencil notations are inked only when signatures are attached to -the contracts. If the New York <i>première</i> fizzled, there would be no -inking. I had taken the Forty-sixth Street Theatre, and the publicity -campaign under the direction of my good friend, Gerald Goode, had been -under way for weeks.</p> - -<p>It was a distinguished audience and a curious one that assembled in the -Forty-sixth Street Theatre for the opening performance. It was an -enthusiastic one that left at the end. I had gone back stage before the -curtain rose to wish Wigman well, but the priestess was unapproachable. -As she did before each performance, she entered the “silence.” Under no -circumstances did she permit any disturbance. She would arrive at the -theatre a long time before the scheduled time of the curtain’s rise, -and, in her darkened dressing-room, lie in a mystic trance. Later she -danced as one possessed.</p> - -<p>If the opening night audience was enthusiastic, which it was, I am -equally sure some of its members were confused. At later performances, -as I stood in my customary position at the rear of the auditorium as the -public left the theatre, I was not infrequently pressed by questions. -These questions, however they may have been phrased, meant the same -thing. “What do the dances mean?” “What is she trying to say?” “What -does it all signify?” I am not easily embarrassed, as a rule. The -constant reiteration of this question, however, proved an exception.</p> - -<p>For the benefit of a generation unfamiliar with the Wigman dance, I -should explain that her dances were, as she called them, “cycles.” In -other words, her performances consisted of groups of dances with an -alleged relationship: a relationship so difficult to discern, however, -that I suspect it must have existed only in Wigman’s mind. The one dance -that stands out most vividly in my mind is one she called <i>Monotonie</i>. -In <i>Monotonie</i>, Wigman stood in the dead center of the stage. Then she -whirled and whirled and whirled. As the whirling continued she was first -erect, then slowly crouching,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_43">{43}</a></span> slowly rising until she was erect again; -but always whirling, the while a puny four-note phrase was endlessly -repeated. Through a sort of self-hypnosis, her whirling had an hypnotic -effect on her. In a sort of mystic trance herself, Wigman succeeded, up -to a point, in inducing a similar reaction on her public.</p> - -<p>But what did it mean? I did not know, but I was determined to find out. -Audience members, local managers, newspaper men were badgering me for an -answer. To any query that I put to Wigman, her deep-throated reply was -always the same:</p> - -<p>“Oh, the meaning is too deep; I really can’t explain it.”</p> - -<p>It was much later, during the course of the tour following the New York -season, that I arrived at the “meaning” of Wigman’s dances, and that -will be told in its proper place.</p> - -<p>After the tumult and the shouting had died that opening night at the -Forty-fourth Street Theatre, I took Wigman to supper with some friends. -As we left the theatre together, Wigman was still in her trance; but, as -the food was served, she came out of it with glistening eyes and a -rapid-fire sort of highly literate chatter, in the manner of one sliding -back to earth from the upper world.</p> - -<p>The party over and Wigman back in her hotel, I sat up to await the press -notices. They were splendid. No one dared describe her “meaning,” but -all were agreed that here was a dynamic force in dance that drove home -her “message.” The notice I awaited most eagerly was that of the <i>New -York Times</i>. The first City Edition did not carry it, something which I -attributed to the lateness of the final curtain. I waited for the Late -City Edition. Still not a line about Wigman. I simply could not -understand.</p> - -<p>For years I had struggled to have the dance treated with respect by the -press. Through the Pavlova days I talked and tried to convert editors to -a realization of its importance. Any readers who are interested have -only to turn up the files of their local newspapers and read the -“reviews” of the period of the Pavlova and Diaghileff companies to find -that ballet, in most cases, was “covered” by disgruntled music critics, -who had been assigned, in many cases obviously against their wills, to -review. You would find that the average music critic either overtly -disliked ballet and had said so, or else treated it flippantly.</p> - -<p>At the time of Wigman’s arrival in America, the ice had been broken, as -I have said, by the appointment of John Martin at the head of a -full-time dance department at the <i>New York Times</i>. Mary<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_44">{44}</a></span> Watkins, -eager, enthusiastic, informed, was fulfilling a like function on the -<i>New York Herald-Tribune</i>. Thus dance criticism was on its way to -becoming professional; and the men and women of knowledge and taste and -discernment who criticize dance today, I cannot criticize. For I have -respect for the professional.</p> - -<p>The <i>New York Times</i> review of Wigman’s opening performance did not -appear. Since John Martin had urged me to bring Wigman to America, it -was the more baffling. Prior to Martin’s engagement by the <i>New York -Times</i>, that remarkable and beloved figure, William (“Bill”) Chase, for -so many years the editor of the music department of the <i>Times</i> and -formerly the music critic of the <i>Sun</i>, and to the end of his life my -very good friend, had “reported” the dance. Since he insisted he knew -nothing about it, he never attempted to criticize it. I had frequently -suggested to “Bill” that the <i>Times</i> should have a qualified person at -the head of a <i>bona fide</i> dance department. Eventually John Martin was -engaged, and I am happy to have been able to play a part in the -beginnings of the change on the part of the American press.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned that the change was gradual, for Martin’s articles at -first were unsigned and had no by-line. In the early days, Martin merely -reported on dance events. To be sure, at that time, there was little -enough to report. Then Leonide Massine was brought to the Roxy Theatre -by the late Samuel Rothapfel to stage weekly presentations of ballet; -and then there was something about which to write. Since then John -Martin has helped materially to spread the gospel of ballet and dance.</p> - -<p>It was at approximately the Massine-Roxy stage of the dance criticism -development that I searched the <i>Times</i> for the Wigman notice. Most of -the newspapers carried rave reviews, and because they did, I was the -more mystified, since in the <i>Times</i> there was not so much as a mention -even that the event had taken place. However, out-of-town friends, -including the late Richard Copley, well-known concert manager, -telephoned me from New Jersey to congratulate me on the glowing review -they had read in the Suburban Edition, and read it to me over the -telephone. There were dozens of other calls from suburban communities to -the same effect.</p> - -<p>I called the editorial department of the <i>Times</i> to enquire about its -omission from the New York City edition. There was some delay, but -eventually I was informed that it would seem that the night city editor -had read John Martin’s story in the Suburban Edition,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_45">{45}</a></span> saw that it -carried no by-line, no signature; read its glowing and enthusiastic -account of the Wigman <i>première</i>; and because it was so fulsome in its -enthusiasm, assumed it was merely a piece of press-agent’s ballyhoo, and -forthwith pulled it out of all other editions.</p> - -<p>Armed with this information, I proceeded to bombard the <i>Times</i> with -protests. One of these was directly to the head of the editorial -department, whom I asked to reprint the notice that had been dropped. I -was rather summarily told I was not to try to dictate to the <i>Times</i> -what it should print. By now utterly exasperated, I got hold of my -friend “Bill” Chase, who drily counselled me to “keep my shirt on.” -Chase immediately went on a tour of investigation. He called me back to -tell me that the Board of Editors at their daily meeting had gone into -the matter but were unwilling to print the notice I had asked, since -they had been “scooped” by the other newspapers and it was, therefore, -no longer news: but, they had decided that, in the future, Martin would -have a by-line. Then Chase added, with that wry New England humour of -his for which he was famous, that, with the possession of a by-line, no -editor would dare “kill” a review. It might, of course, be cut for -space, but never “killed.”</p> - -<p>The next Sunday the readers of the <i>New York Times</i> read John Martin’s -notice of Mary Wigman’s first performance, and it was uncut. But it was -a paid advertisement, bearing, in bold-faced type, the heading: “<i>THE -NEWS THAT’S FIT TO REPRINT</i>.”</p> - -<p>As a result of the New York <i>première</i>, the “pencilled” tour was -“inked,” and I traveled most of the tour with the Priestess. Newspaper -men continued to demand to know the “meaning” of her dances. Since -Wigman, most literate of dancers, refused any explanation, I made up my -own. I told a reporter that Wigman was continuing and developing the -work of Isadora Duncan. The reporter wrote his story. It was printed. -Wigman read it without comment. From then on, however, Wigman’s reply to -all queries on the subject was: “Where Isadora Duncan stopped, there I -began.”</p> - -<p>The quickly “inked” tour was a success beyond any anticipations I had -had, and a second tour was booked and played with equal success. The -mistake I made was when I brought her back for a third season, and with -a group of her disciples. America would accept one Wigman; but twenty -husky, bulky Teutonic Amazons in bathing suits with skirts were more -than our public could take.</p> - -<p>Moreover, the group was not typical of the Wigman “schule” at<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_46">{46}</a></span> anything -like its best. As a matter of fact, it was a long way from the Teutonic -Priestess’s highest standards.</p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>It was after the war. Mrs. Hurok and I were paying our first post-war -visit to Switzerland, and stopped off at Zurich. My right-hand bower, -Mae Frohman, had come to Zurich to join us. We learned that Wigman was -there as well, giving master-classes in association with Harald -Kreutzberg. Our initial efforts to find her were not successful.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hurok, Miss Frohman and I were at dinner. We were unaware that -another diner in the same restaurant was Mary Wigman. It was Miss -Frohman who recognized her as she was leaving the room. Wigman had -changed. Time had taken its inevitable toll. The meeting was a touching -one. We all foregathered in the lounge for a talk. Things were not easy -for her; nor was conversation exactly smooth. Her Dresden “<i>schule</i>” had -been commandeered by the Nazis. She was now living in the Russian sector -of Germany. It had been very difficult for her to obtain permission from -the Russian authorities to come to Zurich for her master-classes. She -was obliged to return within a fixed period. She preferred not to talk -about the war. Conversation, as I have said, was not easy. But there are -things which do not require saying. My sympathies were aroused. The -great, strong personality could never be quite erased, nor could the -fine mind be utterly stultified.</p> - -<p>I watched and remembered a great lady and a goodly artist. It is -gratifying to me to know that she is now resident in the American zone -of Berlin, and able to continue her classes.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_47">{47}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_4">4.</a> Sextette</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="r"> -<i>A. A SPANISH GYPSY</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">S</span><b>UCH</b> was the influence of The Swan on my approach to dance that, -although she was no longer in our midst, I found myself being guided -subconsciously by her direction. There were arrangements for a tour of -Pavlova and a small company, for the season 1931-1932, not under my -management. Death liquidated these arrangements. Had the tour been made, -Pavlova was to have numbered among her company the famous Spanish gypsy -dancer of the 1930’s, Vicente Escudero, one of the greatest Iberian -dancers of all time.</p> - -<p>Pavlova had championed Duncan and Wigman. I had brought them. I -determined to bring Escudero to help round out the catholicity of my -dance presentations. Spanish dancing had always intrigued me, and I had -a soft spot for gypsies of all nationalities.</p> - -<p>Escudero, who had been the partner of the ineffable Argentina, had -earned a reputation which, to understate, bordered on the picturesque. -Small, wiry, dark-skinned, with an aquiline nose, he wore his kinky, -glossy black hair long to cover a lack-lustre bald spot. He, like most -Spanish gypsies, claimed descent from the Moors, and there was about him -more of the Arab than the Indian. As I watched him I could understand -how he must have borne within him the stigma of the treatment Spain had -meted out to his people;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_48">{48}</a></span> for it was not until the nineteenth century -that the gypsies in Spain had any freedom at all. Until then, they were -pariahs, hounded by the people, hounded by the law. Only within the last -fifty-or-so years has the Spanish gypsy come into his own with the -universal acknowledgment of being a creative artist, the originator of a -highly individual and beautiful art.</p> - -<p>Escudero was a Granada gypsy, a “<i>gitano</i>” from the white caves hollowed -out in the Sacred Mountain. I point this out in order to distinguish him -from his Sevillian cousins, the “<i>flamenco</i>.” His repertoire ranged -through the <i>Zapateado</i>, the <i>Soleares</i>, the <i>Alegrias</i>, the <i>Bulerias</i>, -the <i>Tango</i>, the <i>Zamba</i>. His special triumph was the <i>Farruca</i>.</p> - -<p>It was on the 17th January, 1932, that I introduced Vicente Escudero to -New York audiences at the 46th Street Theatre, where Wigman had had her -triumph. A number of New York performances were given, followed by a -brief tour, which, in turn, was succeeded by a longer coast-to-coast -tour the following year. His company consisted of four besides himself: -a pianist, a guitarist; the fiery, shrewish Carmita, his favorite; and -the shy, gentle-voiced Carmela.</p> - -<p>But it was Escudero’s sinister, communicative personality that drew and -held audiences. His gypsy arrogance shone in his eyes, in the audacious -tilt of his flat-brimmed hat, in his complete assurance; above all it -stood out in his strutting masculinity. Eschewing castanets, for gypsy -men consider their use effeminate, he moved sinuously but majestically, -with the clean heel rhythm and crackling fingers that marked him as the -outstanding gypsy dancer of his day and, quite possibly, of all time. -For accompaniment there was no symphony orchestra, only the hoarse -syncopation of a single guitar. Through half-parted lips shone the -gleaming ivory of small, perfectly matched teeth.</p> - -<p>For two successful seasons I toured Escudero across America, spreading a -new and thrilling concept of the dance of Spain to excited audiences, -audiences that reached a tremendous crescendo of fervor at the climax of -his <i>Farruca</i>. No theatrical <i>Farruca</i> this, but a feline, animal dance -straight from the ancient Spanish gypsy camp.</p> - -<p>I had been forewarned to be on my guard. However, though his arrival in -America had been preceded by tall tales of his completely unmanageable -nature, Escudero proved to be one of the simplest,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_49">{49}</a></span> most tractable -artists I ever have handled. There was on his part an utter freedom from -the all too usual fits of “temperament,” a complete absence of the -hysterics sometimes indulged in—and all too often—by artists of lesser -talents. I happen to know, from other sources than Escudero, that he -took a dim view of American food, hotels, and the railway train -accommodations in the remoter parts of this great land. He never -complained to me. Escudero had his troubles with Carmita and Carmela, as -they vied with each other for position and his favors. But these -troubles never were brought to my official attention. Like the head of a -gypsy camp, he was the master. He ruled his little troupe and -distributed both favors and discipline.</p> - -<p>In 1935, Escudero made his last American appearance, when I presented -the Continental Revue at the Little Theatre, now the New York Times -Hall. Among those appearing with Escudero in this typical European -entertainment were the French <i>chanteuse</i>, Lucienne Boyer, Mrs. Hurok, -Lydia Chaliapine, Rafael, together with that comic genius, Nikita -Balieff, as master of ceremonies.</p> - -<p>Other and younger dancers of Spain continue to spread the gospel of the -Iberian dance. I venture to believe that, highly talented though many of -them are, I may say with incontrovertible truth, there has been only one -Escudero.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>B. A SWISS COMEDIAN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>In 1931, a slight, short Swiss girl named Trudi Schoop with the dual -talents of a dancer and a comedienne—a combination not too -common—organized a company in her native Switzerland. She named it the -Trudi Schoop Comic Ballet.</p> - -<p>The Paris <i>Archives Internationales de la Danse</i>, formed in 1931 by Rolf -de Maré, the Swedish dance patron who was responsible for the Swedish -Ballet in the early ’twenties, in 1932 sponsored the first International -Choreographic Competition in Paris. The prize-winning work in this -initial competition was won by Kurt Joos for his now famous <i>The Green -Table</i>. The second prize went to this hitherto almost unknown Trudi -Schoop, for her comic creation, <i>Fridolin</i>.</p> - -<p>In 1936, I brought her with her company for their first tour. Here again -was a fresh and new form of dance entertainment. Tiny, with a shock of -boyishly cut blonde hair, Trudi Schoop had the body of a young lad, and -a schoolboy’s face alternating impishness<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_50">{50}</a></span> with the benign innocence of -the lad caught with sticky fingers and mouth streaked with jam.</p> - -<p>Her repertoire consisted of theatre pieces rather than ballets in the -accepted sense of the term. Trudi herself was a clown in the sense -Charles Chaplin is a clown. Her range was tremendous. With a company -trained by her in her own medium of gentle satire, she was an immediate -success. Her productions had no décor, and there was a minimum of -costume. But there was a maximum of effective mime, of wit, of satire. -Her brother, Paul Schoop, was her composer, conductor, accompanist.</p> - -<p>Trudi Schoop’s outstanding success was the prize-winning work, -<i>Fridolin</i>. Schoop was Fridolin; Fridolin was Schoop. Fridolin was an -innocent boy in a black Sunday suit and hat who stumbled and bumbled -through a world not necessarily the best of all possible, wringing peals -of laughter out of one catastrophe after another.</p> - -<p>Other almost equally happy and successful works in her repertoire -included <i>Hurray for Love</i>; <i>The Blonde Marie</i>, the tale of a servant -girl who eventually becomes an operatic diva; and <i>Want Ads</i>, giving the -background behind those particularly humorous items that still appear -regularly in the “Agony Column” of <i>The Times</i> (London); you know, the -sort of announcement that reads: “Honourable Lady (middle fifties) seeks -acquaintance: object matrimony.”</p> - -<p>The critical fraternity dubbed her the “funniest girl in the world”; the -public adored her, and theatre folk made her their darling. Prior to the -outbreak of the war, I sent Trudi and her Swiss Comedians across -America. When, at last, war broke in all its fury, Schoop retired to her -native Switzerland and disbanded her company. She did not reassemble it -until 1946; and in 1947 I brought them over again for a long tour of the -United States and Canada. On this most recent of her tours, in addition -to her familiar repertoire, we made a departure by presenting an -evening-long work, in three acts, called <i>Barbara</i>. This was, so far as -I know, the first full-length work to be presented in dance form in many -cities and towns of the North American continent. Full length, of -course, in the sense that one work occupied a full evening for the -telling of its story. This is another form of dance pioneering in which -I am happy to have played a part.</p> - -<p>Today Trudi Schoop, who has retired from the stage, lives with her -sister in Hollywood.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_51">{51}</a></span></p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>C. A HINDU DEITY</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Back in 1924, in London, I had watched a young Hindu dancer with Pavlova -in her ballet, <i>Hindu Wedding</i>. I was struck by the quality of his -movement and by the simple beauty of the dance of India.</p> - -<p>His name was Uday Shan-Kar. From Pavlova I learned that he was the son -of a Hindu producer of plays, that he had been trained by his father, -and had worked so successfully in collaboration with him in the -production of native Hindu mimed dramas that Pavlova had persuaded -Shan-Kar to return to London to assist her in the production of an -Indian ballet she had in mind, based on the Radna-Krishna legend. -Pavlova succeeded in persuading him to dance in the work as well.</p> - -<p>Later I saw him at the Paris Colonial Exposition, where, with his -company which he had organized in India, he made a tremendous -impression, subsequently achieving equal triumphs in England, -Austria-Hungary, Germany and Switzerland. At the Paris Exposition I saw -long Hindu dramas, running for hours, beautifully and sumptuously -produced, but played with the greatest leisure. Since I am committed to -candor in this account of my life in the dance, I must admit that I saw -only parts of these danced dramas, took them in relays, for I must -confess mine is a nature that cannot remain immobile for long stretches -at a time before a theatre form as unfamiliar as the Indian was to me -then.</p> - -<p>Gradually I came to know it, and I realized that in India formal mime -and dance are much more a part of the life of the people than they are -with us. With the Indian, dance is not only an entertainment, but a -highly stylised stage art; it plays an important part in religious -ritual; it is a genuinely communal experience.</p> - -<p>As night after night I watched parts of these symbolic dance dramas of -Hindu mythology, fascinated by them, I searched for a formula whereby -they might be made palatable and understandable to American audiences. I -was certain that, as they were being danced in Paris, to music strange -and unfamiliar to Western ears, going on for hours on end, the American -public was not ready for them, and would not accept them.</p> - -<p>I put the matter straight to Shan-Kar. I told him I wanted to bring him -and his art to America. He told me he wanted to come. Possessed of a -fine scholarship, a magnificent three-fold talent as<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_52">{52}</a></span> producer, -choreographer, and dancer-musician, he also possessed to a remarkable -degree a sense of theatre showmanship and an intuition that enabled him -to grasp and quickly understand the space and time limitations of the -non-oriental theatre.</p> - -<p>Shan-Kar’s association with Pavlova, together with his own fine -intelligence, made his transition from the dance theatre of the Orient -to an adaptation of it acceptable to the West a comparatively simple -task for him.</p> - -<p>His success in America exceeded my most optimistic predictions. Until -the arrival of Shan-Kar, America had not been exposed to very much of -the dance of India. Twenty years before, the English woman known as -Roshanara had had a vogue in esoteric circles with her adaptations of -the dances of India and the East. On the other hand, the male dancing of -India was virtually unknown. As presented by Shan-Kar, this was revealed -in an expressive mime, with an emphasis on the enigmatic face, the flat -hand, using the upper part of the body as the chief medium of -expression, together with the unique use of the neck and shoulders, not -only for expression, but for accentuation of rhythm. New, also, to our -audiences were the spread knees, a type of movement exclusive to the -male Indian dancer.</p> - -<p>Here was an art and an artist that seemingly had none of the -conventional elements of a popular success. About him and his -presentations there was nothing spectacular, nothing stunning, nothing -exciting. Colour was there, to be sure; but the dancing and the general -tone of the entertainment was all of a piece, on a single level, -soothing, and with that elusive, almost indefinable quality: the -serenity of the East.</p> - -<p>Our associations, save for a brief period of mistrust on my part, have -always been pleasant. In addition to the original tour of 1932, I -brought him back in the season 1936-1937, and again in 1938-1939. The -war, of course, intervened, and I was unable to bring him again until -the season 1949-1950.</p> - -<p>At the outbreak of the war, through the benefaction of the Elmhirst -Foundation of Dartington Hall, England, an activity organized by the -former Dorothy Straight, Shan-Kar was enabled to found a school for the -dance and a center for research into Hindu lore, which he set up in -Benares. One outcome of this research center was the production of a -motion picture film dealing with this lore.</p> - -<p>After seeing many of the Eastern dances and dancers who have been -brought to Western Europe and the United States, I am con<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_53">{53}</a></span>vinced Uday -Shan-Kar is still the outstanding exponent. I hope to bring him again -for further tours, for I feel the more the American people are exposed -to his performances, the better we shall understand the fine and -delicate art of the East, and the East itself.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>D. A SPANISH LADY</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Although my taste for the dances of Spain had been whetted by my -association with Escudero, I had long wished to present to America the -artist whom I knew was the finest exponent of the feminine dance of the -Iberian peninsula. The task was by no means an easy one, for her first -American venture had been a fiasco. The lady from Spain was anything but -eager to risk another North American venture.</p> - -<p>Her name was Encarnacion Lopez. But it was as Argentinita that she was -known to and loved by all lovers of the dance of Spain, and recognized -by them as its outstanding interpreter of our time. Her story will bear -re-telling. My enthusiasm, my utmost admiration for the Spanish dance, -and for the great art of Argentinita is something that is not easy for -me to express. Diaghileff is known to have said with that unequivocation -for which he was noted: “There are two schools of dancing: the Classic -Ballet, which is the foundation of all ballet; and the Spanish school.”</p> - -<p>I would have put it differently by saying that Classic Ballet and the -Spanish school are the two types of dancing closest to my heart.</p> - -<p>My first view of Argentinita was at New York’s Majestic Theatre, in -1931, when she made her American <i>début</i> in Lew Leslie’s ill-fated -<i>International Revue</i>. This performance, coincidentally enough, also -brought forth for his first American appearance, the British dancer, -Anton Dolin, who later also came under my management and who, like -Argentinita, was to become a close personal friend. For Dolin, the -opening night of the <i>International Revue</i> was certainly no very -conspicuous beginning; for Argentinita, however, it was definitely a sad -one. This charming, quiet-voiced lady of Spain knew that she was a great -artist. Thrust into the hurly-burly of an ineptly produced Broadway -revue, where all was shouting and screaming, Argentinita continued her -quiet way and, artist that she was, avoided shouting and screaming her -demands.</p> - -<p>I was present at the opening performance. Although she was outwardly -calm, collected, restrained, I could sense the ordeal through which -Argentinita was going. In order to insure proper<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_54">{54}</a></span> rhythmic support, she -had brought her own orchestra conductor from Spain. This gentleman was -able to speak little, if any, English. From where I sat I could see the -musicians poring over their parts and could hear them commenting to each -other about the music. Obviously the parts were in bad order and, -equally obviously, there had been little or no rehearsal; and, moreover, -it appeared the music was difficult to read at short notice.</p> - -<p>It was one of those strange ironies of fate that ruined something that, -properly handled, should and would have been a triumph. Yet it was not -only the orchestra and the music that were at fault. Argentinita herself -was shockingly presented, if she can honestly be said to have been -presented at all. She made her entrance as a Spanish peasant, in a -Spanish peasant costume which, though correct in every detail, was -devoid of any effect of what the average audience thinks is Spanish. She -was asked to dance in a peasant scene against a fantastic set purporting -to be Spanish, surrounded by a bevy of Broadway showgirls in marvellous -exotic costumes, also purporting to be Iberian, with trains yards in -length, which were no more authentically Spanish, or meant to be, than -were those of the tango danced by that well-known ball-room dancing team -of Moss and Fontana, who came on later in the same scene.</p> - -<p>Under such circumstances, success for Argentinita was out of the -question. So bitter was her disappointment that she left the cast and -the company two weeks after the opening. Later she gave a Sunday night -recital in her own repertoire, and although I set to work immediately to -persuade her that there was an audience for her in America, a great, -enthusiastic audience, such were her doubts that it took me six years to -do it. I knew she was a born star, for I recognized, shining in the -tawdry setting of this revue, a vivacious theatre personality.</p> - -<p>When Argentinita finally returned to America, in 1938, under my -management, and made her appearance on 13th November of that year, at -the Majestic Theatre, on the same stage where, seven years before, she -had so utterly and tragically failed, this time to enthusiastic cheers -and a highly approving press, she admitted I had been correct in my -judgment and in my insistence that she return.</p> - -<p>There is little point in recounting at this time her subsequent triumphs -all over America, for her hold on the public increased with each -appearance, and she is all too close to the memories of con<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_55">{55}</a></span>temporary -dance lovers. I have said that Argentinita was a great artist. That will -bear repeating over and over again. Every gesture she made was feminine -and beautiful and, to my mind, she portrayed everything that was lovely -and most desirable. While her castanets may not actually have sung, they -spoke of many lovely things. Argentinita was a symbol of the womanhood -of Spain, warm, rich-blooded, wholesome, and I always felt certain there -were not enough hats in the world, least of all in Spain, to throw at -her feet to pay her the homage that was her due.</p> - -<p>Argentinita was born of Spanish parents in Buenos Aires, in 1898, and -taken back to Spain by them when she was four years old. At that early -age she commenced her training in the Spanish dance in all its varied -forms and styles, for she was equally at home in the Spanish Classic -dance as she was in the Gypsy or Flamenco dances. Those who saw the poem -she could make from <i>las Soleares</i> of Andulasia, the basic rhythm of all -Spanish gypsy dances, know how she gave them the magic of a magic land; -or the gay <i>Alegrias</i>, performed in the sinuous manner, rich with -contrasts of slow, soft, and energetic movements, with the -characteristic stamping, stomping, sole-tapping, clapping, and -finger-snapping. It was in the <i>Alegrias</i> that Argentinita let her fancy -roam with the slow tempo of the music. The European dance analysts had -noted that here, as also at other times and places, Argentinita danced -to please herself. When the tempo quickened, her mood changed to one of -gaiety and abandon.</p> - -<p>It is a difficult matter for me to pin down my memories of this splendid -artist and her work: <i>las Sevillianas</i>, the national dance of Seville, -danced by all classes and conditions of people, the Queen of Flamenco -dances; or the <i>Bulerias</i>, the most typical of all gypsy dances, light -and gay, the dance of the fiesta.</p> - -<p>Argentinita was not only a dancer. She was an actress of the first -order. She had been a member of Martinez Sierra’s interesting and vital -creative theatre in Madrid. She sang <i>Chansons Populaires</i> in a -curiously throaty, plaintive little voice that could, nevertheless, fill -the largest theatre, despite the cameo-like quality of her art, fill -even the Metropolitan Opera House, with the sound, the color, the -atmosphere of Spain.</p> - -<p>Dancer of Spain that she was, her repertoire was not by any means -confined to the dance and music and life of the peoples of the Iberian -peninsula. She traveled far afield for her material,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_56">{56}</a></span> through the towns -and villages of South and Central America. Yet she was no mere copyist. -Works and ideas she found were transmuted into terms of the theatre by -means of a subtle alchemy. She had a deep knowledge of the entire -Spanish dance tradition, and knew it all, understood its wide historical -and regional changes. In her regional works, from Spanish folk to the -heart of the Andes, she kept the flavor of the original, but -personalized the dances. About them all was a fundamental honesty; -nothing was done for show. There were no heroics; no athleticism. In -addition to the <i>Alegrias</i>, <i>Sevillianas</i>, <i>Fandangos</i>, <i>Jotas</i> of -Spain, the folk dances and folk songs of Brazil, Argentina, Peru, and -the remote places of Latin America and of its Indian villages were hers. -None who ever saw her do it can ever quite obliterate the memory of <i>El -Huayno</i>, implicit as it was with the stark dignity and nobility of the -Inca woman, and called by one critic, “the greatest dance of our -generation.”</p> - -<p>I have a particularly fond memory of <i>On the Route to Seville</i>, in which -a smoothie from the city outwitted and outdid the gypsies in larceny; -and also I remember fondly that nostalgic picture of the Madrid of 1900, -which she called, simply enough, <i>In Old Madrid</i>.</p> - -<p>As our association developed and continued, I was happy to be able to -extend the scope of her work and bring her from the solitary and -non-theatrical dance recital platform on which, one after the other, -from coast to coast, her journeys were a succession of triumphs, to the -stage of the Metropolitan Opera House in New York. Here, with her own -ensemble, chief among which was her exceptionally talented sister, Pilar -Lopez, I placed them as guests with one ballet company or another—with -Leonide Massine in Manuel de Falla’s <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i> and in -<i>Capriccio Espangnol</i>, by Rimsky-Korsakoff, on the choreography of which -she collaborated with Massine.</p> - -<p>In addition to these theatre adaptations of the dances of Spain, she -danced in her own dances, both solo and with Pilar Lopez. She trained -and developed excellent men, notably José Greco and Manolo Vargas. I am -especially happy in having been instrumental in bringing to the stage -two of her most interesting theatrical creations. One was the ballet she -staged to de Falla’s <i>El Amor Brujo</i>, which I produced for her. The -other was the Garcia Lorca <i>El Café de Chinitas</i>. Argentinita had been a -devoted friend of the martyred Loyalist poet, and to bring his work to -the American stage was a project close to her heart and a real labor of -love. Argentinita belonged to a close<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_57">{57}</a></span> little circle of scholars, poets, -and composers, which included Martinez Sierra, Jacinto Benavente, and -the extraordinarily brilliant, genius-touched Garcia Lorca.</p> - -<p>The production of <i>El Café de Chinitas</i> was made possible during a -Spanish festival I gave, one spring, at the Metropolitan Opera House. -For this festival I engaged José Iturbi to conduct a large orchestra -composed of members of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. Argentinita -had succeeded in interesting the Marquis de Cuevas in the project. For -<i>El Café de Chinitas</i> the Marquis commissioned settings and costumes -from Salvador Dali. The result was one of the most effective and best -considered works for the theatre emanating from Dali’s brush. Dali, like -Argentinita, had been a friend of the martyred patriot-poet-composer. -His profounder emotions touched, Dali designed as effective a setting as -the Metropolitan Opera House has seen. The first of the two scenes was a -tremendously high wall on which hung literally hundreds of guitars, a -“graveyard of guitars,” as Dali phrased it; while the second scene, the -<i>Café de Chinitas</i> itself, revealed the heroic torso of a female dancer -with her arms upstretched in what could be interpreted as an attitude of -the dance, or, if one chose, as a crucifixion. From where the hands held -the castanets there dripped blood, as though the hands had been pierced. -In terms of symbols, this was Dali’s representation of the crucifixion -of his country by hideous civil war. This was Argentinita’s last -production, and one of her happiest creations.</p> - -<p>A victim of cancer, Argentinita died in New York on 24th September, -1945. I was at the hospital at the end, together with my friend and -hers, Anton Dolin. Her doctors had long prescribed complete rest for her -and special care. But her life was the dance, and stop she could not. -Heroically she ignored her illness. If there was one thing about her -more conspicuous than another, it was her tiny, dainty, slippered feet. -No longer will they dart delicately into the lovely positions on the -floor.</p> - -<p>In Argentinita there was never either bitterness or unkindness to any -one. I have seen, at first hand, Argentinita’s encouragement and -unstinted help to others, and to lesser dancers. The success of others, -whether it was the artists in her own programmes, or elsewhere, was a -joy to her; nothing but the best was good enough. Her sister, Pilar -Lopez, who survives her and who today dances with great success in -Europe, carrying on her sister’s work, is a magnifi<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_58">{58}</a></span>cent dancer. When -the two sisters danced together, everything that could be done to make -Pilar shine more brilliantly was done; and that, too, was the work of -Argentinita. Her loyalty to me was something of which I am very proud.</p> - -<p>Above all, it was the dignity and charm of the woman that played a great -part in the superb image of the artist who was known as Argentinita.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>E. A TERPSICHOREAN ANTHROPOLOGIST</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>The mixture of dance and song and anthropology, with a firm accent on -sex, that struck a new note in the dance theatre, hailed from Chicago. -Her name is Katherine Dunham. She is a dynamo of energy; she is elusive; -she is unpredictable. She is a quite superb combination of exoticism and -intellectuality.</p> - -<p>Daughter of a French-Canadian and an American Negro, Katherine was born -in Joliet, Illinois, in 1914. Her theatrical experience has ranged from -art museums to night clubs, from Broadway to London’s West End, to the -<i>Théâtre des Champs Elysées</i> in Paris, to European triumphs. Her early -life was spent and her first dancing was done in Chicago. She flashed -across the American entertainment world comet-like. More recently she -has confined her activities almost exclusively to England and Europe.</p> - -<p>I had no part in her beginnings. By the time I undertook to manage her, -she had assembled her own company of Negro dancers and had oscillated -between the rarefied atmosphere of women’s clubs and concert halls, on -the one hand, to night clubs and road houses, on the other. The -atmosphere of the latter was both smoky and rowdy. Katherine Dunham, I -suspect, is something of a split personality, so far as her art is -concerned. Possessor of a fine mind, it would seem to have been one -frequently in turmoil. On the one side, there is a keen intellectual -side to it, evidenced by both a Bachelor of Philosophy and a Master of -Arts degree from the University of Chicago, two Rosenwald Fellowships, -and a Rockefeller Fellowship. Her Masters degree is in anthropology. -These studies she pursued, as I have said, on the one hand. On the -other, she studied and practiced the dance with an equal fierceness.</p> - -<p>Her intellectual pursuits have been concerned, for the most part, with -anthropological researches into the Negro dance. Her first choreographic -venture was her collaboration with Ruth Page, in Chicago, in <i>La -Guiablesse</i>, a ballet on a Martinique theme, with a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_59">{59}</a></span> score based on -Martinique folk melodies by the American composer, William Grant Still, -a work with an all-Negro cast, seen both at the Century of Progress -Exhibition and the Chicago Opera House, in 1933. Dunham became active in -the Federal Dance Theatre, and its Chicago director. It was when she was -doing the dances for the International Ladies’ Garment Workers Union -depression-time revue, <i>Pins and Needles</i>, that she tried a Sunday dance -concert in New York at the Forty-eighth Street Theatre. So successful -was it that it was repeated every Sunday for three months.</p> - -<p>Turning to the theatre, she added acting and singing to dancing and -choreography, both on the stage and in films, appearing as both actress -and singer in <i>Cabin in the Sky</i>. She intrigued me, both by the quality -of her work, her exoticism, and her loyalty to her little troupe, for -the members of which she felt herself responsible. I first met her while -she was appearing at the Mark Hopkins Hotel, in San Francisco. She was -closing her engagement. She was down and out, trying to keep her group -together. I arranged for an audition and, after seeing her with her -group, undertook to see what could be done. Present with me at this -audition were Agnes de Mille, then in San Francisco rehearsing with the -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo what was to become her first choreographic -triumph, <i>Rodeo</i>, together with Alexandra Danilova and Frederick -Franklin.</p> - -<p>My idea in taking over her management was to try to help her transform -her concert pieces into revue material, suitable not only to the -country’s concert halls, but also to the theatre of Broadway and those -road theatres that were becoming increasingly unoccupied because of the -paucity of productions to keep them open. Certain purely theatrical -elements were added, including some singers, one of them being a Cuban -tenor; and, to supplement her native percussion players, a jazz group, -recruited from veterans of the famous “Dixieland Band.”</p> - -<p>We called the entertainment the <i>Tropical Revue</i>. The <i>Tropical Revue</i> -was an immediate success at the Martin Beck Theatre in New York and, -thanks to some quick work, I was able to secure additional time at the -theatre and to extend the run to six weeks. This set up some sort of -record for an entertainment of the kind. As an entertainment form it -rested somewhere between revue and recital. Miss Dunham herself had -three outstanding numbers. These were her own impressions of what she -called different “hot” styles. These were responsible for some of the -heat that brought on the sizzling<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_60">{60}</a></span> of the scenery to which the critics -referred. The first of her numbers was <i>Bahiana</i>, a limpid and languid -impression of Brazil; then <i>Shore Excursion</i>, a contrasting piece, fast, -hot, tough, and Cuban. The third was <i>Barrelhouse</i>, an old stand-by of -hers, straight out of Chicago’s Jungletown.</p> - -<p><i>Tropical Revue</i>, during its two years under my management, was in an -almost perpetual state of flux. It was revised and revised, and revised -again. As the tours proceeded, Dunham did less and less dancing and more -and more impersonation. But while her “bumps” grew more discreet, there -was no lessening of the heat. Dunham’s choreography was best in -theatricalized West Indian and Latin American folk dances, some of which -approached full-scale ballets. The best of these, in my opinion, was -<i>L’Ag’ya</i>, a three-scened work, Martinique at core, the high light of -which was the “<i>ag’ya</i>,” a kicking dance. Here she was able to put to -excellent use authentic Afro-Caribbean steps, and in the overall -choreographic style, I would not feel it unfair to say that Dunham’s -style had been considerably influenced by the Chicago choreographer and -dancer, Ruth Page, with whom Dunham had collaborated early in her -career.</p> - -<p>It did not take me long to discover the public was more interested in -sizzling scenery than it was in anthropology, at least in the theatre. -Since the <i>Tropical Revue</i> was fairly highly budgeted, it was necessary -for us, in order to attract the public, to emphasize sex over -anthropology. Dunham, with a shrewd eye to publicity, oscillated between -emphasis first on one and then on the other; her fingers were in -everything. In addition to running the company, dancing, singing, -revising, she lectured, carried on an unending correspondence by letter -and by wire, entertained lavishly, and added considerably, I am sure, to -the profits of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company. Columns -were written about her, and fulsome essays, a good deal of which was -balderdash.</p> - -<p>The handling of this tour presented its own special set of problems. Not -the least of these was the constantly recurring one of housing. We have -come a long way in the United States in disposing of Jim Crow; but there -is still a great deal to be done. Hotel accommodations for the artists -of the <i>Tropical Revue</i> were a continual source of worry. One Pacific -Coast city was impossible. When, after days of fruitless searching, our -representative thought he had been able to install them in a neighboring -town, the Chinese owner of the hotel, on learning his guests were not -white, canceled the reservations.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_61">{61}</a></span></p> - -<p>A certain midwestern city was another trouble spot, where, in one of the -city’s leading hostelries, the employees threatened to strike because of -the presence there of some of the principal artists. This was averted by -some quick work on the part of our staff. It should be noted, too, that -these unfortunate difficulties were all in cities north of what we hoped -was the non-existent Mason and Dixon Line.</p> - -<p>Miss Dunham, quite naturally, was disturbed and exercised by this -discrimination. In order to avoid this kind of unpleasantness, I had -tried to restrict the bookings to northern cities. However, it became -necessary to play an engagement in a southern border city. The results -were not happy. At the time of making the booking, I did not realize -that in this border state segregation was practiced in its Municipal -Auditorium.</p> - -<p>The house was sold out on the opening night. Owing to wartime -transportation difficulties, the company was late in arriving. Just -before the delayed curtain’s rise, Miss Dunham requested four seats for -some of her local friends. She was asked by the manager of the -Auditorium if they were colored. Miss Dunham replied that they were; -whereupon the manager offered to place chairs for them in the balcony, -since colored persons were not permitted in the orchestra stalls. Miss -Dunham protested, and objected to her friends being seated other than in -the orchestra. The fact was there were no seats available in the stalls, -since the house was sold out. However, had it not been for the -segregation rule, four extra chairs could have been placed in the boxes.</p> - -<p>The performance was enthusiastically received, with repeated curtain -calls at its close. Miss Dunham responded with a speech. She thanked the -audience for its appreciation and its warm response. Then, smarting -under the accumulated pressures of discrimination throughout the tour, -climaxed by the incident involving her friends, she paused, and added: -“This is good-bye. I shall not appear here again until people like me -can sit with people like you. Good-bye, and God bless you—and you may -need it.”</p> - -<p>While there was no overt hostile demonstration in the theatre, there -were those who felt Miss Dunham’s closing words implied a threat. The -press, ever alert to scent a scandal, demanded a statement about my -attitude on segregation in theatres, and to know if I approved of -artists under my management threatening audiences. It was one of those -rare times when, for some reason, I could not be reached by telephone. -Faced with the necessity of making some<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_62">{62}</a></span> sort of statement, my -representative issued one to the effect that Mr. Hurok deplored and was -unalterably opposed to discrimination of any kind anywhere; but that, as -a law-abiding citizen, however much he deplored such regulations, he was -bound to conform to the laws and regulations obtaining in those -communities and theatres where he was contractually obliged to have his -attractions appear. But I have taken care never again to submit artists -to any possible indignities, if there is any way of avoiding it.</p> - -<p>I shall relate a last example of the sort of difficulties that arose on -this tour and, to my mind, it is the most stupid of them all, if there -can be said to be degrees of stupidity in such matters.</p> - -<p>In addition to the large orchestra of conventional instruments we -carried, Miss Dunham had four Guatemalan percussionists who dramatically -beat out the Caribbean rhythms on a wide assortment of gourds, tam-tams, -and other native drums, both with the orchestra and in several scenes on -the stage.</p> - -<p>It happened in a northern city. The head of the musicians’ union local -demanded to know if there were any “niggers” in our orchestra. My -representative, who feels very strongly about such matters and who -resents the term used by the local union president, replied that he did -not understand the question. All members of the orchestra, he said, were -members of the American Federation of Musicians, and had played as a -unit across the entire country, and such a question had never arisen. -The local union official thereupon tersely informed him the colored -players would not be permitted to play with the other musicians in the -orchestra pit in that city; if they attempted to do so, he would forbid -the white players to play. My representative, refusing to bow to such an -ukase, appealed to the head office of the Musicians’ Union, in -Chicago—only to be informed by them that, however much headquarters -disapproved of and deplored the situation, each union local was -autonomous in its local rulings and there was nothing they could do.</p> - -<p>Now comes the irony of the situation. My representative, on visiting the -theatre, saw that the stage boxes abutted the orchestra pit on the same -level with it “Why not place the percussionists there?” he thought. He -proposed this to the union official, and was informed that this would be -permitted, “so long as there is a railing between the white players and -the black.”</p> - -<p>It was only later, on thumbing through the local telephone directory, my -representative discovered there were two musicians<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_63">{63}</a></span>’ locals there. One -of them was listed with the word “colored” after it, in parenthesis.</p> - -<p>Yes, we still have a long road ahead in the matter of fair employment -practices and equal opportunities for all.</p> - -<p>Having had a satisfying taste of the theatre, Miss Dunham eventually -turned to it as her exclusive medium of expression, and branched out -into a full-fledged theatre piece, with plot and all, called <i>Carib -Song</i>, which, transmuted into <i>Caribbean Rhapsody</i>, proved more -successful on the other side of the Atlantic than it did in the States.</p> - -<p>My association with Katherine Dunham seemed to satisfy, at least for the -moment, my taste for the exotic. I cannot say it added much to my -knowledge of anthropology, but it broadened my experience of human -nature.</p> - -<p>I presented Katherine Dunham and her company in Buenos Aires and -throughout South America during the season 1949-1950 when our -association came to an end. In her artistic career Katherine Dunham has -been greatly aided by the advice and by the practical help, in scenic -and costume design, of her husband, the talented American painter and -designer, John Pratt.</p> - -<p>While the scope of Katherine Dunham’s dancing and choreography may be -limited by her anthropological bias, she has a first-rate quality of -showmanship. She has studied, revived, rearranged for the theatre -primitive dances and creole dances, which are in that borderland that is -somewhere at the meeting point of African and Western culture. -Anthropology aside and for the moment forgotten, she is a striking -entertainer.</p> - -<p class="r"> -F. <i>AN AMERICAN GENIUS</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>It may well be that, considered as an individual, the American Martha -Graham is one of the greatest dance celebrities in the United States. -There are those who contend she is the greatest. She is certainly the -most controversial. There seems to be no middle school of thought -concerning her. One of them bursts forth with an enthusiasm amounting -almost to idolatry. The other shouts its negatives quite as forcibly.</p> - -<p>My first love and my greatest interest is ballet. However, that love and -that interest do not obscure for me all other forms of dance, as my -managerial career shows. Having presented prophets and disciples of -what, for want of a more accurate term, is called the “free<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_64">{64}</a></span>” dance, in -the persons of Isadora Duncan and her “children” and Mary Wigman, I -welcomed the opportunity to present the American High Priestess of the -contemporary dance.</p> - -<p>This product of a long line of New England forbears was a woman past -fifty when she came under my management. Yet she was at the height of -her powers, in the full bloom of the immense artistic accomplishment -that is hers, a dancer of amazing skill, a choreographer of striking -originality, an actress of tremendous power.</p> - -<p>The first and by far the most important prophet of the contemporary -dance, Martha Graham was originally trained in the Ruth St. Denis-Ted -Shawn tradition. A quarter of a century ago, however, she broke away -from that tradition and introduced into her works a quality of social -significance and protest. As I think over her choreographic product, it -seems to me that, in general—and this is a case where I must -generalize—her work has exhibited what may be described as two major -trends. One has been in the direction of fundamental social conflicts; -the other, towards psychological abstraction and a vague mysticism.</p> - -<p>About all her work is an austerity, stark and lean; yet this cold -austerity in her creations is always presented by means of a brilliant -technique and with an intense dramatic power. I made it a point for -years to see as many of her recital programmes as I could, and I was -never sure what I was going to see. Each time there seemed to me to be a -new style and a new technique. She was constantly experimenting and -while, often, the experiments did not quite come off, she always excited -me, if I did not always understand what she was trying to say.</p> - -<p>I have the greatest admiration for Martha Graham and for what she has -done. She has championed the cause of the American composer by having -works commissioned, while she has, at the same time, championed the -cause of free movement and originality in the dance. Yet, so violent, so -distorted, so obscure, and sometimes so oppressive do I find some of her -works that I am baffled. It is these qualities, coupled with the -complete introspection in which her works are steeped, that make it so -extremely difficult to attract the public in sufficient numbers to make -touring worthwhile or New York seasons financially possible without some -sort of subsidy. I shall have something to say, later on in this book, -on this whole question of subsidy of the arts. Meanwhile, Martha Graham -has chosen a lonely road, and the introspectiveness of her work does not -make it<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_65">{65}</a></span> any less so. The more’s the pity, for here is a great artist of -the first rank.</p> - -<p>Martha Graham completed my triptych of modern dancers, commencing with -Isadora Duncan and continuing with Mary Wigman as its center piece. In -many respects, Martha Graham is by far the greatest of the three; yet, -to me, she is lacking in a quality that made the dances of Isadora -Duncan so compelling. It is difficult to define that quality. -Negatively, it may be that it is this very introspection. Perhaps it is -that Martha Graham is no modernist at all.</p> - -<p>Modernism in dance, I feel, has become very provincial, for it would -seem that every one and her sister is a modernist. Isadora was a -modernist. Fokine was a modernist. Mary Wigman was a modernist. Today, -we have Balanchine and Robbins, modernists. Scratch a choreographer, -scrape a dancer ever so lightly, and you will find a modernist. It is -all very, very provincial.</p> - -<p>Much of what is to me the real beauty of the dance—the lyric line, the -unbroken phrase, the sequential pattern of the dance itself—has, in the -name of modernism, been chopped up and broken.</p> - -<p>Martha Graham, of all the practitioners of the “free” dance, troubles me -least in this respect. Many of her works look like ballets. Yet, at the -same time, she disturbs me; never soothes me; and, since I have -dedicated myself in this book to candor, I shall admit I can take my -dance without too much over-intellectualization. Yet, in retrospect, I -find there are few ballets that have so much concentrated excitement as -Martha Graham’s <i>Deaths and Entrances</i>.</p> - -<p>The choreography, the dancing, the art of Martha Graham are greatly -appreciated by a devoted but limited public. The lamentable thing about -it to me is that it so limited. She has chosen the road of the solitary -and lonely experimenter. Martha Graham, of all the dancers I have known, -is, I believe, the most single-purposed, the most fanatical in her -devotion to an idea and an ideal. About her and everything she does is -an extraordinary integrity, a consummate honesty. Generous to a fault, -Martha Graham always has something good to say about the work of others, -and she possesses a keen appreciation of all forms of the dance. The -high position she so indisputably holds has been attained, as I happen -to know, only through great privation and hardship, often in the face of -cruel and harsh ridicule. Her remarkable technique could only have been -acquired at the expense of sheer physical exhaustion. In the history of -the dance her name will ever remain at the head of the pioneers.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_66">{66}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_5">5.</a> Three Ladies of the Maryinsky—And Others</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">U</span><b>P</b> to now I have dealt with those artists of the dance whose forms of -dance expression were either modern, free, or exotic. All had been, at -one time or another, under my management. The rest of this candid avowal -will be devoted to that form of theatrical dance known as ballet. Since -I regard ballet as the most satisfactory and satisfying form of -civilized entertainment, ballet will occupy the major portion of the -book. Nearly two full decades of my career as impresario have been -devoted to it.</p> - -<p>For a long time I have been alternately irritated and bored by an almost -endless stream of gossip about ballet, and by that outpouring of -frequently cheap and sometimes incredible nonsense that has been -published about ballet and its artists. Surprisingly, perhaps, -comparatively little of this has come from press agents; the press -agents have, in the main—exceptions only going to prove the rule, in -this case—been ladies and gentlemen of taste and discretion, and they -have publicized ballet legitimately as the great art it is, and, at the -same time, have given of their talents to help make it the highly -popular art it is.</p> - -<p>But there has been a plethora of tripe in the public prints about -ballet, supplied by hacks, blind hero-worshippers, self-abasing -syco<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_67">{67}</a></span>phants, and producers. The last are quite as vocal as any of the -others. They are not, of course, “producers.” They call themselves -either “managers” or “managing-directors.” I shall have something to -say, later on, about this phase of their work. They talk, give -interviews, often of quite incredible stupidity; and, instead of being -managers, are masters of mismanagement. All are, in one degree or -another, would-be Diaghileffs. They all suffer from a serious disease: a -sort of chronic Diaghileffitis, which is spasmodically acute. If -anything I can say or point out in this book can help, as it were, to -add a third dimension to the rather flat pictures of ballet companies -and ballet personalities, creative, interpretive, executive, that have -been offered to the public, I shall be glad. For ballet is a great art, -and my last thought would be to wish to denigrate, debunk, or disparage -any one.</p> - -<p>While “the whole truth” cannot always be told for reasons that should be -obvious, I shall try to tell “nothing but the truth.”</p> - -<p>The ballet we have today, however far afield it may wander in its -experimentation, in its “novelties,” stems from a profoundly classical -base. That base, emerging from Italy and France, found its full -flowering in the Imperial Theatres of Russia.</p> - -<p>I cannot go on with my story of my experiences with ballet on the -American continent without paying a passing tribute to the Ladies of the -Maryinsky (and some of the Gentlemen, as well), who exemplified the -Russian School of Ballet at its best; many of them are carrying on in -their own schools, and passing on their great knowledge to the youth of -the second half of the twentieth century, in whose hands the future of -ballet lies.</p> - -<p>I should like to do honor to many ladies of the Maryinsky. To do so -would mean an overly long list of names, many of which would mean little -to a generation whose knowledge of dancers does not go back much further -than Danilova. It would mean a considerable portion of the graduating -classes of the Russian Imperial School of the Ballet: that School, -dating from 1738, whose code was monastic, whose discipline was strict, -whose training the finest imaginable. Through this school and from it -came the ladies and gentlemen of the Maryinsky, those figures that gave -ballet its finest flowering on the stages of the Maryinsky Theatre in -Petrograd and the Grand Theatre in Moscow.</p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova, Mathilde Kchessinska, Olga Preobrajenska, Lubov Egorova, -Tamara Karsavina, Lydia Kyasht, Lydia Lopokova.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_68">{68}</a></span> There were men, too: -Michel Fokine, Mikhail Mordkin, Vaslav Nijinsky, Adolph Bolm, Theodore -Kosloff, Alexandre Volinine, Laurent Novikoff. The catalogue would be -too long, if continued. No slight is intended. The turn of the century, -or thereabouts, saw most of the above named in the full flush of their -performing abilities.</p> - -<p>What has become of them? Six of the seven ladies are still very much -alive, each making a valued contribution to ballet today. The mortality -rate among the men has been heavier; only three of the seven men are now -alive; yet these three are actively engaged in that most necessary and -fundamental department of ballet: teaching.</p> - -<p>Because the present has its basic roots in the past, and because the -future must emerge from the present, let me, in honoring those -outstanding representatives of the recent past, pause for a moment to -sketch their achievements and contributions.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>MATHILDE KCHESSINSKA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>In the early twentieth century hierarchy of Russian Ballet, Mathilde -Kchessinska was the undisputed queen, a tsarina whose slightest wish -commanded compliance. She was a symbol of a period.</p> - -<p>Mathilde Kchessinska was born in 1872, the daughter of a famous Polish -character dancer, Felix Kchessinsky. A superb technician, according to -all to whom I have talked about her, and to the historians of the time, -she is credited with having been the first Russian to learn the highly -applauded (by audiences) trick of those dazzling multiple turns called -<i>fouettés</i>, guaranteed to bring the house down and, sometimes today, -even when poorly done. In addition to a supreme technique, she is said -to have been a magnificent actress, both “on” and “off.”</p> - -<p>Hers was an exalted position in Russia. Her personal social life gave -her a power she was able to exercise in high places and a personal -fortune which permitted her to give rein to a waywardness and wilfulness -that did not always coincide with the strict disciplinarian standards of -the Imperial Ballet.</p> - -<p>Although she was able to control the destinies of the Maryinsky Theatre, -to hold undisputed sway there, to have everything her own way, all that -most people today know about her is that she was fond of gambling, that -the Grand Dukes built her a Palace in Petrograd, and that Lenin made -speeches to the mob from its balcony during the Revolution.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_69">{69}</a></span></p> - -<p>More rot has been told and written about her by those with more -imagination than love of accuracy, than about almost any other person -connected with ballet, not excepting Serge Diaghileff. In yarn upon yarn -she has been identified with one sensational escapade and affair after -another. None of these, so far as I know, she has ever troubled to -contradict.</p> - -<p>Mathilde Kchessinska was the first Russian dancer to win supremacy for -the native Russian artist over their Italian guests. An artist in life -as well as on the stage, today, at eighty, the Princess -Krassinska-Romanovska, the morganatic wife of Grand Duke André of -Russia, she still teaches daily at her studio in Paris, contributing to -ballet from the fund of her vast experience and knowledge. Many fine -dancers have emerged from her hands, but perhaps the pupil of whom she -is the proudest is Tatiana Riabouchinska.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>OLGA PREOBRAJENSKA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sharing the rank of <i>ballerina assoluta</i> with Kchessinska at the -Maryinsky Theatre was Olga Preobrajenska. Preobrajenska’s career -paralleled that of the Princess Krassinska-Romanovska; she was born in -1871, and graduated from the Imperial School in the class ahead of the -Princess. Yet, in many respects, they were as unlike as it is possible -for two females to differ.</p> - -<p>Kchessinka was always <i>chic</i>, noted for her striking beauty, expressive -arms and wrists, a beautifully poised head, an indescribably infectious -smile. She was a social queen who used her gifts and her powers for all -they were worth. It was a question in the minds of many whether -Kchessinska’s private life was more important than her professional -career. The gods had not seen fit to smile too graciously on -Preobrajenska in the matter of face and figure. Her tremendous success -in a theatre where, at the time, beauty of form was regarded nearly as -highly as technique, may be said to have been a triumph of mind over -matter. Despite these handicaps or, perhaps, because of them, she -succeeded in working out her own distinctive style and bearing.</p> - -<p>Free from any Court intriguing, Olga Preobrajenska was a serious-minded -and noble person, a figure that reflected her own nobility of mind on -ballet itself. Whereas Kchessinska’s career was, for the most part, a -rose-strewn path, Preobrajenska’s road was rocky. Her climb from a -<i>corps de ballet</i> dancer to the heights was no overnight<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_70">{70}</a></span> journey. It -was one that took a good deal of courage, an exhibition of fortitude -that happily led to a richly deserved victory. Blessed with a dogged -perseverance, a divine thirst for knowledge, coupled with a desire ever -to improve, she forced herself ahead. She danced not only in every -ballet, but in nearly every opera in the repertoire that had dances. In -her quarter of a century on the Imperial stage she appeared more than -seven hundred times. It was close on to midnight when her professional -work was done for the day; then she went to the great teacher, Maestro -Enrico Cecchetti, for a private lesson, which lasted far into the early -hours of the morning. Hers was a life devoted to work. For the social -whirl she had neither time nor interest.</p> - -<p>These qualities, linked with her fine personal courage and gentleness, -undoubtedly account for that unbounded admiration and respect in which -she is held by her colleagues.</p> - -<p>Preobrajenska remained in Russia after the revolution, teaching at the -Soviet State School of Ballet from 1917 through 1921. In 1922, she -relinquished her post, left Russia and settled in Paris. Today, she -maintains one of the world’s most noteworthy ballet schools, still -teaching daily, passing on to the present generation of dancers -something of herself so that, though dancers die, dancing may live.</p> - -<p>It was during her teaching tenure at the Soviet State School of Ballet, -the continuing successor in unbroken line and tradition to the Imperial -Ballet School from the eighteenth century, that a young man named Georgi -Balanchivadze came into her ken. Georgi Balanchivadze is better known -throughout the world of the dance today as George Balanchine. In the -long line of pupils who have passed through Preobrajenska’s famous Paris -school, there is space only to mention two of whom she is very proud: -Irina Baronova and Tamara Toumanova.</p> - -<p>Frequently, I have had great pleasure in attending some of -Preobrajenska’s classes in Paris, and I am proud to know her. It was -during my European visit in the summer of 1950 that I happened to be at -La Scala, Milan, when Preobrajenska was watching a class being given -there by the Austrian ballet-mistress, Margaret Wallman. This was at the -time of the visit to Milan of Galina Ulanova, the greatest lyric -ballerina of the Soviet Union. The meeting of Ulanova and Preobrajenska, -two great figures of Russian ballet, forty-one years apart in age, but -with the great common bond of the classical<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_71">{71}</a></span> dance, each the recipient -of the highest honors a government can pay an artist, was, in its way, -historic.</p> - -<p>I arranged to have photographs taken of the event, a meeting that was -very touching. Ulanova had come to see a class as well. The two great -artists embraced. Ulanova was deeply moved. Their conversation was -general. Unfortunately, there was little time, for the Soviet Consular -officials who accompanied Ulanova were not eager for her to have too -long a conversation.</p> - -<p>At eighty-two, Preobrajenska has no superior as a teacher. At her prime, -she was a dancer of wit and elegance, excelling in mimicry and the -humorous. With her colleagues of that epoch, as with Ulanova, she -nevertheless had one outstanding quality in common: a sound classicism.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>LUBOV EGOROVA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Less exalted in the hierarchy of the Russian Imperial Ballet, since she -never attained the <i>assoluta</i> distinction there, but, nevertheless, a -very important figure in ballet, is Lubov Egorova (Princess -Troubetzkoy).</p> - -<p>Born some nine years later than Preobrajenska and eight later than -Kchessinska, Egorova, who was merely a <i>ballerina</i> at the Maryinsky, was -one of the first great Russian dancers to leave Russia; she was a member -of the exploring group that made a Western European tour during a summer -holiday from the Maryinsky, in 1908—perhaps the first time that Russian -Ballet was seen outside the country.</p> - -<p>In 1917, Egorova left Russia for good and, joining the Diaghileff -Ballet, appeared in London, in 1921, dancing the role of Princess Aurora -in the lavish, if ill-starred, revival of Tchaikowsky’s <i>The Sleeping -Beauty</i>, or, as Diaghileff called his Benois production, <i>The Sleeping -Princess</i>. As a matter of fact, she was one of three Auroras, -alternating the role with two other great ladies of the ballet, Olga -Spessivtseva and Vera Trefilova.</p> - -<p>In 1923, Egorova founded her own school in Paris, and has been teaching -there continuously since that time. Many famous dancers have emerged -from that school, dancers of all nationalities, carrying the gospel to -their own lands.</p> - -<p>The basic method of ballet training has altered little. Since the last -war, there have been some new developments in teaching methods. Although -the individual methods of these three ladies from<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_72">{72}</a></span> the Maryinsky may -have differed in detail, they have all had the same solid base, and from -these schools have come not only the dancers of today, but the teachers -of the future.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>TAMARA KARSAVINA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>The Russian <i>emigré</i> dancers would seem to have distributed themselves -fairly equally between Paris and London, (excluding, of course, those -who have made the States their permanent home). While the three -Maryinsky ladies I have discussed became Parisian fixtures, another trio -made London their abiding place.</p> - -<p>Most important of the London trio was Tamara Karsavina, who combined in -her own person the attributes of a great dancer, a great beauty, a great -actress, a great artist, and a great woman. John van Druten, the noted -playwright, sums her up thus: “I can tell you that Tamara Karsavina was -the greatest actress and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, the -incarnation of Shakespeare’s ‘wightly wanton with a velvet brow, with -two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes,’ and that I wrote sonnets to -her when I was twenty.”</p> - -<p>Born in 1885, the daughter of a famous Russian dancer and teacher, -Platon Karsavin, Karsavina, unlike the Ladies of the Maryinsky who have -made Paris their home, was ready for change: that change in ballet that -is sometimes called the Romantic Revolution. She was receptive to new -ideas, and became identified with Fokine and Diaghileff and their -reforms in ballet style.</p> - -<p>Diaghileff had to have a <i>ballerina</i> for his company, and it soon became -obvious to both Fokine and Diaghileff that Pavlova would not fit into -their conception of things balletic. The modest, unassuming, charming, -gracious, beautiful and enchanting Karsavina took over the <i>ballerina</i> -roles of the Diaghileff Company. It was in 1910 that Karsavina came into -her own with the creation of the title role in <i>The Firebird</i>, and a -revival of <i>Giselle</i>. Her success was tremendous. The shy, modest Tamara -Karsavina became <i>La Karsavina</i>; without the guarantee of her presence -in the cast, Diaghileff was for many years unable to secure a contract -in numerous cities, including London.</p> - -<p>All through her career, a career that brought her unheard of success, -adulation, worship, Karsavina remained a sweet, simple, unspoiled lady.</p> - -<p>She was not only the toast of Europe for her work with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_73">{73}</a></span> Diaghileff -Company, but she returned frequently to the Maryinsky, dashing back and -forth between Petrograd and Western Europe. An aversion to sea travel in -wartime prevented her visiting America with the Diaghileff Company on -either of its American tours. She did, however, make a brief American -concert tour in 1925, partnered by Pierre Vladimiroff. Neither the -conditions nor the circumstances of this visit were to her advantage, -and Americans were thus prevented from seeing Karsavina at anything like -her best.</p> - -<p>Karsavina has painted her own picture more strikingly than anyone else -can; and has painted it in a book that is a splendid work of art. It is -called <i>Theatre Street</i>. Tamara Karsavina’s <i>Theatre Street</i> is a book -and a portrait, a picture of a person and of an era that is, at the same -time, a shining classic of the theatrical dance. But not only does it -tell the story of her own career so strikingly that it would be -presumptuous of me to expand on her career in these pages, but she shows -us pictures of Russian life, of childhood in Russia that take rank with -any ever written.</p> - -<p>After the dissolution of a previous Russian marriage, Karsavina, in -1917, married a British diplomat, Henry Bruce, who died in 1950. Her -son, by this marriage, is an actor and director in the British theatre. -Karsavina herself lives quietly and graciously in London, but by no -means inactively. She is a rock of strength to British ballet, through -her interest and inspiration. A great lady as well as a great artist, it -would give me great pleasure to be able to present her across the -American continent in a lecture tour, in the course of which -illuminating dissertation she would elucidate, as no one I have ever -seen or heard, the important and expressive art of mime.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>LYDIA KYASHT</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Classmate of Karsavina at the Imperial School, and born in the same -year, is Lydia Kyasht, who was the first Russian <i>ballerina</i> to become a -permanent fixture in London.</p> - -<p>Kyasht’s arrival in the British capital dates back to 1908, the year she -became a leading soloist at the Maryinsky Theatre. There were mixed -motives for her emigration to England. There were, it appears, intrigues -of some sort at the Maryinsky; there was also a substantial monetary -offer from the London music hall, the Empire, where, for years, ballet -was juxtaposed with the rough-and-tumble of music hall comedians, and -where Adeline Genée had reigned as queen of English ballet for a decade. -Kyasht’s Russian salary was ap<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_74">{74}</a></span>proximately thirty-five dollars a month. -The London offer was for approximately two hundred dollars a week.</p> - -<p>Her first appearance at the Empire, in Leicester Square, long the home -of such ballet as London had at that time, was under her own name as -Lydia Kyaksht. When the Empire’s manager in dismay inquired: “How <i>can</i> -one pronounce a name like that?” he welcomed the suggestion that the -pronunciation would be made easier for British tongues if the second “k” -were dropped. So it became Kyasht, and Kyasht it has remained.</p> - -<p>Kyasht was the first Russian dancer to win a following in London, and in -her first appearances there she was partnered by Adolph Bolm, later to -be identified with Diaghileff and still later with ballet development in -the United States.</p> - -<p>The Empire ballets were, for the most part, of a very special type of -corn. Kyasht appeared in, among others, a little something called <i>The -Water Nymph</i> and in another something charmingly titled <i>First Love</i>, -with my old friend and Anna Pavlova’s long-time partner, Alexandre -Volinine, as her chief support. There was also a whimsy called <i>The -Reaper’s Dream</i>, in which Kyasht appeared as the “Spirit of the -Wheatsheaf,” seen and pursued in his dream by a reaper, the while the -<i>corps de ballet</i>, costumed as an autumn wheatfield, watched and -wondered.</p> - -<p>Most important, however, was Kyasht’s appearance in the first English -presentation, on 18th May, 1911, of Delibes’ <i>Sylvia</i>. <i>Sylvia</i>, one of -the happiest of French ballets, had had to wait thirty-five years to -reach London, although the music had long been familiar there. Even -then, London saw a version of a full-length, three-act work, which, for -the occasion, had been cut and compressed into a single act. It took -forty-one more years for the uncut, full-length work to be done in -London, with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet production, staged by Frederick -Ashton, at Covent Garden, in the Royal Opera House, on 3rd of September, -1952. The original British Sylvia, Lydia Kyasht, was, by this date, a -member of the teaching staff at the famous Sadler’s Wells School.</p> - -<p>Lydia Kyasht remained at the Empire for five years. At the conclusion of -her long engagement, she sailed for New York to appear as the Blue Bird -in a Shubert Winter Garden show, <i>The Whirl of the World</i>, with Serge -Litavkin as her partner; Litavkin later committed suicide in London, as -the result of an unhappy love affair (not with Lydia Kyasht).<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_75">{75}</a></span></p> - -<p>Kyasht’s American venture brought her neither fame nor glory. In the -first place, a Shubert Winter Garden spectacle, in 1913, was not a -setting for the classical technique of Ballet; then, for better or -worse, Kyasht was stricken ill with typhoid fever, a mischance that -automatically terminated her contract. But before she became ill, still -on the unhappier side, was the Shubertian insistence that Kyasht should -be taught and that she should perfect herself in the 1913 edition of -“swing,” the “Turkey Trot.” Such was the uninformed and uncaring mind of -your average Broadway manager, that he wanted to combine the delicacy of -the “Turkey Trot,” of unhallowed memory, with what he elegantly -characterized as “acrobatic novelties.”</p> - -<p>But Kyasht was saved from this humiliation by the serious fever attack -and returned to London, where she made her permanent home and where, for -the most part, she devoted herself to teaching. As a teacher able to -impart that finish and refinement that is so essential a part of a -dancer’s equipment, she has had a marked success.</p> - -<p>Today, she is, as I have said, active in the teaching of ballet -department at that splendid academy, the Sadler’s Wells School, about -which I shall have something to say later on.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>LYDIA LOPOKOVA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>The third of the Maryinsky ladies to settle in England, to whom I cannot -fail to pay tribute, is Lydia Lopokova.</p> - -<p>Lopokova is the youngest of the three, having been born in 1891. Her -graduation from the Imperial School was so close to the great changes -that took place in Russian ballet, that she had been at the Maryinsky -Theatre only a few months when, as a pupil of Fokine, she was invited to -join the Diaghileff Ballet, at that time at the height of its success in -its second Paris season.</p> - -<p>Writing of Lopokova’s early days at the Imperial School, Karsavina says -in <i>Theatre Street</i>: “Out of the group of small pupils given now into my -care was little Lopokova. The extreme emphasis she put into her -movements was comic to watch in the tiny child with the face of an -earnest cherub. Whether she danced or talked, her whole frame quivered -with excitement; she bubbled all over. Her personality was manifest from -the first, and very lovable.”</p> - -<p>Of her arrival to join the Diaghileff Company in Paris, Karsavina says: -“Young Lopokova danced this season; it was altogether her first season -abroad. As she was stepping out of the railway car<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_76">{76}</a></span>riage, emotion -overcame her. She fainted right away on the piles of luggage. It had -been her dream to be in Paris, she told the alarmed Bakst who rendered -first aid; the lovely sight (of the Gare du Nord) was too much for her. -A mere child, she reminded me again of the tiny earnest pupil when, in -the demure costume of <i>Sylphides</i>, she ecstatically and swiftly ran on -her toes.”</p> - -<p>Lopokova’s rise to high position with the Diaghileff Ballet in England -and Europe was rapid. But she was bored by success. There were new -fields to be conquered, and off she went to New York, in the summer of -1911, to join the first “Russian Ballet” to be seen on Broadway. A -commercial venture hastily rushed into the ill-suited Winter Garden, -with the obvious purpose of getting ahead of the impending Diaghileff -invasion of America, due at a later date. The popular American -vaudeville performer, Gertrude Hoffman, temporarily turned manager, -sparked this “Saison de Ballets Russes.”</p> - -<p>Hoffman, in conjunction with a Broadway management, imported nearly a -hundred dancers, with Lydia Lopokova as the foremost; others included -the brothers Kosloff, Theodore and Alexis, who remained permanently in -the United States; my friend, Alexandre Volinine; and Alexander -Bulgakoff. A word about the 1911 “Saison de Ballets Russes” may not be -amiss. The ethics of the entire venture were, to say the least, open to -question. Among the works presented were <i>Schéhérazade</i>, <i>Cléopâtre</i>, -and <i>Sylphides</i>—all taken without permission from the Diaghileff -repertoire, and with no credit (and certainly no cash) given to Michel -Fokine, their creator. All works were restaged from memory by Theodore -Kosloff, and with interpolations by Gertrude Hoffman. The outstanding -success of the whole affair was Lydia Lopokova.</p> - -<p>When, after an unsuccessful financial tour outside New York, Lopokova -and Volinine left the company, the “Saison de Ballets Russes” fell to -pieces.</p> - -<p>Venturing still farther afield, Lopokova joined Mikhail Mordkin’s -company briefly; then, remaining in America for five years, she toyed -seriously with the legitimate theatre, and made her first appearance as -an actress (in English) with that pioneer group, the Washington Square -Players (from which evolved The Theatre Guild), at the Bandbox Theatre, -in East 57th Street, in New York, and later in a Percy Mackaye piece -called <i>The Antic</i>, under the direction of Harrison Grey Fiske.</p> - -<p>Then the Diaghileff Ballet came to America; came, moreover,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_77">{77}</a></span> badly in -need of Lopokova; came without Karsavina, without any woman star; came -badly crippled. In New York, and free, was Lydia Lopokova. It was Lydia -Lopokova who was the <i>ballerina</i> of the company through the two American -tours. It was Lydia Lopokova who was the company’s bright and shining -individual success.</p> - -<p>She returned to Europe with Diaghileff and was his <i>ballerina</i> from 1917 -to 1919, earning for herself in London a popularity second to none. But, -bored again by success, she was suddenly off again to America. This -time, the venture was even less noteworthy, for it was a Shubert musical -comedy—and a rather dismal failure. “I was a flop,” was Lopokova’s -comment, “and thoroughly deserved it.” In 1921, she returned to -Diaghileff, and danced the Lilac Fairy in his tremendous revival of <i>The -Sleeping Princess</i>. During the following years, up to the Diaghileff -Ballet’s final season, Lopokova was in and out of the company, appearing -as a guest artist in the later days.</p> - -<p>After a short and unhappy marriage with one of Diaghileff’s secretaries -had been dissolved, Lopokova became Mrs. J. Maynard Keynes, the wife of -the brilliant and distinguished English economist, art patron, friend of -ballet and inspirer of the British Arts Council. On Keynes’s elevation -to the peerage, Lopokova, of course, became Lady Keynes.</p> - -<p>Invariably quick in wit, impulsive, possessor of a genuine sense of -humor, Lady Keynes remains eager, keen for experiment, restless, impish, -and still puckish, always ready to lend her enthusiastic support to -ventures and ideas in which she believes.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>MARIE RAMBERT</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>One of the most potent forces in the development of ballet in England is -Marie Rambert. She was a pioneer in British ballet. She still has much -to give.</p> - -<p>Marie Rambert—unlike her London colleagues: Karsavina, Kyasht, and -Lopokova—was not a Maryinsky lady. Born Miriam Rambach, in Poland, she -was a disciple of Emile Jacques Dalcroze, and was recommended to -Diaghileff by her teacher as an instructor in the Dalcroze type of -rhythmic movement. The Russians who made up the Diaghileff Company were -not impressed either by the Dalcroze method or its youthful teacher. -They rebelled against her, taunted her, called her “Rhythmitchika,” and -left her alone. There was one exception, however. That exception was -Vaslav Nijinsky, who was considerably influenced by his studies with -Rambert, an influence<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_78">{78}</a></span> that was made apparent in three of his -choreographic works: <i>Sacre du Printemps</i>, <i>Afternoon of a Faun</i> (this, -incidentally, the first to show the influence), and <i>Jeux</i>.</p> - -<p>Despite the attitude of the Russian dancers, it was her contacts with -the Diaghileff Ballet that aroused Rambert’s interest in ballet. She had -had early dancing lessons in the Russian State School in Warsaw; now she -became a pupil of Enrico Cecchetti. In 1920, she established her own -ballet school in the Notting Hill Gate section of London, and it was not -long after that the Ballet Club, a combination of ballet company with -the school, was founded, an organization that became England’s first -permanent ballet company.</p> - -<p>Rambert’s influence on ballet in England has been widespread. When, -after the death of Diaghileff, the Camargo Society was formed in London, -along with Ninette de Valois, Lydia Lopokova, J. Maynard Keynes, and -Arnold L. Haskell, Rambert was a prime mover.</p> - -<p>In her school and at the Ballet Club, she set herself the task of -developing English dancers for English ballet. From her school have come -very many of the young dancers and, even more important, many of the -young choreographers who are making ballet history today. To mention but -a few: Frederick Ashton, Harold Turner, Antony Tudor, Hugh Laing, Walter -Gore, Frank Staff, William Chappell, among the men; Peggy van Praagh, -Pearl Argyle, Andrée Howard, Diana Could, Sally Gilmour, among the -women.</p> - -<p>Rambert is married to that poet of the English theatre, Ashley Dukes. -Twenty-odd years ago they pooled their individual passions—hers for -building dancers, his for building theatres and class-rooms—and built -and remodelled a hall into a simple, little theatre, which they -christened the Mercury, in Ladbroke Road. Its auditorium is as tiny as -its stage. Two leaps will suffice to cross it. The orchestra consisted -of a single pianist. On occasion a gramophone assisted. Everything had -to be simple. Everything had to be inexpensive. The financial -difficulties were enormous. Here the early masterpieces of Ashton and -Tudor were created. Here great work was done, and ballets brought to -life in collaboration between artists in ferment.</p> - -<p>I cannot do better than to quote the splendid tribute of my friend, -“Freddy” Ashton, when he says: “Hers is a deeply etched character, a -potent bitter-sweet mixture; she can sting the lazy into activity, make -the rigid mobile and energise the most lethargic.... She has the unique -gift of awakening creative ability in artists.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_79">{79}</a></span> Not only myself, but -Andrée Howard, Antony Tudor, Walter Gore and Frank Staff felt our -impulse for choreography strengthen and become irresistible under her -wise and patient guidance. Even those who were not her pupils or -directly in her care—the designers who worked with her, William -Chappell, Sophie Fedorovitch, Nadia Benois, Hugh Stevenson, to name only -a few—all felt the impact of her singular personality.”</p> - -<p>The work Marie Rambert did with the Ballet Club and the Ballet Rambert -in their days at the Mercury Theatre was of incalculable value. The -company continues today but its function is somewhat different. -Originally the Ballet Rambert was a place where young choreographers -could try out their ideas, could make brave and bold experiments. During -my most recent visit to London, in the summer of 1953, I was able to see -some of her more recent work on the larger stage of the Sadler’s Wells -Theatre. I was profoundly impressed. Outstanding among the works I saw -were an unusually fine performance of Fokine’s immortal <i>Les Sylphides</i>, -which has been continuously in her repertoire since 1930; <i>Movimientos</i>, -a work out of the London Ballet Workshop in 1952, with choreography and -music by the young Michael Charnley, with scenery by Douglas Smith and -costumes by Tom Lingwood; Frederick Ashton’s exquisite <i>Les Masques</i>, an -old tale set to a delicate score by Francis Poulenc, with scenery and -costumes by the late and lamented Sophie Fedorovitch; and Walter Gore’s -fine <i>Winter Night</i>, to a Rachmaninoff score, with scenery and costumes -by Kenneth Rowell. There was also an unusually excellent production of -<i>Giselle</i>, which first entered her repertoire in its full-length form in -1946, with Hugh Stevenson settings and costumes.</p> - -<p>While there was a period when Rambert seemed to be less interested in -ballets than in dancers, and the present organization would appear to be -best described as one where young dancers may be tested and proven, yet -Rambert alumnae and alumni are to be found in all the leading British -ballet companies.</p> - -<p>In the Coronation Honours List in 1953, Marie Rambert was awarded the -distinction of Companion of the British Empire.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>MIKHAIL MORDKIN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Although he was under my management for only a brief time, I must, I -feel, make passing reference to Mikhail Mordkin as one of the Russian -<i>emigré</i> artists who have been identified with ballet in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_80">{80}</a></span> America. His -contributions were neither profound nor considerable; but they should be -assessed and evaluated.</p> - -<p>Mordkin, born in Russia, in 1881, was a product of the Moscow School, -and eventually became a leading figure and one-time ballet-master of the -Bolshoi Theatre.</p> - -<p>So far as America is concerned, I sometimes like to think his greatest -contribution was his masculinity. Before he first arrived here in -support of Anna Pavlova in her initial American appearance, the average -native was inclined to take a very dim view indeed of a male dancer. -Mordkin’s athleticism and obvious virility were noted on every side.</p> - -<p>Strange combination of classical dancer, athlete, and clown, Mordkin’s -temperament was such that he experienced difficulty throughout his -career in adjusting himself to conditions and to people. He broke with -the Imperial Ballet; broke with Diaghileff; split with Pavlova. These -make-and-break associations could be extended almost indefinitely.</p> - -<p>For the record, I should mention that, following upon his split with -Pavlova, he had a brief American tour with his own company, calling it -the “All Star Imperial Russian Ballet,” and brought as its <i>ballerina</i>, -the doyenne of Russian <i>ballerinas</i>, Ekaterina Geltzer. Again, in 1928, -he returned to the States, under the management of Simeon Gest, with a -company that included Vera Nemtchinova, Xenia Macletzova, and the -English Hilda Butsova, along with Pierre Vladimiroff.</p> - -<p>Mordkin’s successes in Moscow had been considerable, but outside Russia -he always lagged behind the creative procession, largely, I suspect, -because of a stubborn refusal on Mordkin’s part to face up to the fact -that, although the root of ballet is classicism, styles change, the -world moves forward. Ballet is no exception. Mordkin clung too -tenaciously to the faults of the past, as well as to its virtues.</p> - -<p>From the ballet school he founded in New York has come a number of -first-rate dancing talents. The later Mordkin Ballet, in 1937-1938, and -1938-1939, left scarcely a mark on the American ballet picture. It -lacked many things, not the least of which was a <i>ballerina</i> equal to -the great classical roles. Its policy, if any, was as dated as Mordkin -himself.</p> - -<p>If there was a contribution to ballet in America made by Mordkin, it was -a fortuitous one. Choreographically he composed nothing that will be -remembered. But there was a Mordkin company of sorts,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_81">{81}</a></span> and some of its -members formed the nucleus of what eventually became Ballet Theatre.</p> - -<p>On 15th July, 1944, Mikhail Mordkin died at Millbrook, New Jersey.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>VASLAV NIJINSKY</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Nijinsky has become a literature and a legend. The story of his tragic -life has been told and re-told. His feats as a dancer, his experiments -as a choreographer, became a legend, even while he lived.</p> - -<p>I regret I never knew him. Those who did know him and with whom I have -discussed him, are, for the large part, idolators. That he was a genius -they are all agreed. They insist he could leap higher, could remain -longer in the air—but there is little point in dwelling on the legend. -It is well-known; and legends are the angel’s food on which we thrive.</p> - -<p>Nijinsky’s triumphs came at a time when there were great figures -bursting over the horizon; at a time when there was so little basis for -comparison; at a time when it was extremely difficult for the public to -appraise, because the public had so little basis for comparison.</p> - -<p>How separate fact from fiction? It is difficult, if not quite -impossible. It was the time of the “greatests”: Kubelik, the “greatest” -violinist; Mansfield, the “greatest” actor; Irving, the “greatest” -actor; Modjeska, the “greatest” actress; Bernhardt, the “greatest” -actress; Ellen Terry, the “greatest” actress; Duse, the “greatest” -actress.</p> - -<p>It is such an easy matter when, prompted by the nostalgic urge, to -contemplate longingly a by-gone “Golden Age.” In music, it is equally -simple: Anton Rubinstein, Franz Liszt, de Pachmann, Geraldine Farrar, -Enrico Caruso ... and so it goes. Each was the “greatest.” Nijinsky has -become a part and parcel of the “greatest” legend.</p> - -<p>Jan Kubelik, one of the greatest violinists of his generation, is an -example. When I brought Kubelik for his last American appearance in -1923, I remember a gathering in the foyer of the Brooklyn’s Academy of -Music at one of the concerts he gave there. The younger generation of -violinists were out in force, and a number of them were in earnest -conversation during the interval in the concert.</p> - -<p>Their general opinion was that Kubelik had remained away from America -too long; that he was, in fact, slipping. Sol Elman, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_82">{82}</a></span> father of -Mischa, listened attentively. When the barrage had expended itself, he -spoke.</p> - -<p>“My dear friends,” he said, “Kubelik played the Paganini concerto -tonight as splendidly as ever he did. Today you have a different -standard. You have Elman, Heifetz, and the rest. All of you have -developed and grown in artistry, technique, and, above all, in knowledge -and appreciation. The point is: you know more; not that Kubelik plays -less well.”</p> - -<p>It is all largely a matter of first impressions and their vividness. It -is the first impressions that color our memories and often form the -basis of our judgments. As time passes, I sometimes wonder how reliable -the first impressions may be.</p> - -<p>I am unable to state dogmatically that Nijinsky was the “greatest” -dancer of our time or of all time. On the other hand, there cannot be -the slightest question that he was a very great personality. The quality -of personality is the one that really matters.</p> - -<p>Today there are, I suppose, between five and six hundred first-class -pianists, for example. These pianists are, in many cases, considerably -more than competent. But to find the great personality in these five to -six hundred talents is something quite different.</p> - -<p>The truly great are those who, through something that can only be -described as personality, electrify the public. The public, once -electrified, will come to see them again and again and again. There are, -perhaps, too many good talents. There never can be enough great artists.</p> - -<p>Vaslav Nijinsky was one of the great ones—a great artist, a great -personality. There are those who can argue long and in nostalgic detail -about his technique, its virtues and its defects. Artistry and -personality transcend technique; for mere technique, however flawless, -is not enough.</p> - -<p>It must be borne in mind that Nijinsky’s public career in the Western -World was hardly more than seven years long. The legend of Nijinsky -commenced with his first appearance in Paris in <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>, -in 1912. It may have been started, fostered, and developed by -Diaghileff, continued by Nijinsky’s wife. It is quite possible this is -true; but true or not, it does not affect the validity of the legend.</p> - -<p>The story of Nijinsky’s peculiarly romantic marriage, his subsequent -madness, his alleged partial recovery, his recent death have all been -set down for posterity by his wife. I am by no means an all-out admirer -of these books; and I am not able to accept or agree<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_83">{83}</a></span> with many of the -statements and implications in them. Yet the loyalty and devotion she -exhibited towards him can only be regarded as admirable.</p> - -<p>The merit of her ministrations to the sick man, on the one hand, hardly -condones her literary efforts, on the other. Frequently, I detect a -quality in the books that reveals itself more strongly as the predatory -female than as the protective wife-mother. I cannot accept Romola -Nijinsky’s reiterated portraits of Diaghileff as the avenging monster -any more than I can the following statement in her latest book, <i>The -Last Days of Nijinsky</i>, published in 1952:</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly, the news that Vaslav was recuperating became more and more -known; therefore it was not surprising that one day he received a cable -with an offer from Mr. Hurok, the theatrical impresario, asking him to -come over to New York and appear. My son-in-law, who had just arrived to -spend the week-end with us, advised me to cable back accepting the -offer, for then we automatically could have escaped from Europe and -would have been able to depart at once. But I felt I could not accept a -contract for Vaslav and commit him. There was no question at the time -that Vaslav should appear in public. Nevertheless, I hoped that the -impresario, who was a Russian himself and who had made his name and -fortune in America managing Russian dancers in the past, would have -vision enough and a humanitarian spirit in helping to get the greatest -Russian dancer out of the European inferno. What I did not know at the -time was that there was quite a group of dancers who had got together -and who worked in silence to keep Nijinsky out of the United States and -from public life. Illness had removed the artist with whom they could -not compete. They dreaded his coming back.”</p> - -<p>While the entire paragraph tends to give a distorted picture of the -situation, the last three sentences are as far from the truth as they -possibly can be. The implied charge is almost too stupid to contradict -or refute. Were it not for the stigma it imputes to many fine artists -living in this country, I should ignore it completely. However, the -facts are quite simple. It is by no means an easy matter to bring into -the United States any person in ill health, either physical or mental. -So far as the regulations were concerned, Nijinsky was but another -alien. It was impossible to secure a visa or an entry permit. It was -equally impossible to secure the proper sort of doctors’ certificates -that could have been of material aid in helping secure such papers.</p> - -<p>I have a vivid memory of a meeting of dancers at the St. Regis<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_84">{84}</a></span> Hotel in -New York to discuss what could be done. Anton Dolin was a prime mover in -the plan to give assistance. There was a genuine enthusiasm on the part -of the dancers present. Unfortunately, the economics of the dance are -such that dancers are quite incapable of undertaking long-term financial -commitments. But a substantial number of pledges were offered.</p> - -<p>It certainly was not a question of “quite a group of dancers who had got -together and who worked in silence to keep Nijinsky out of the United -States and from public life.” There was no question or suggestion that -he should appear in public, incidentally. There was only the sheer -inability to get him into the country. If there was any “dread” of “his -coming back,” it could only have been the dread that their former -colleague, ill in mind and body, might be in danger of being exploited -by the romantic author.</p> - -<p>Nijinsky, the legend, will endure as long as ballet, because the legend -has its roots in genius. Legend apart, no one from the Maryinsky stable, -no one in the fairly long history of ballet, as a matter of fact, has -given ballet a more complete service. And it should be remembered that -this service was rendered in a career that actually covered less than a -decade.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>A QUARTET OF IMPERIALISTS</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>There is left for consideration a Russian male quartet, three of them -still living, who, in one degree or another, have made contributions to -ballet in our time, either in the United States or Europe. Their -contributions vary in quality and degree, exactly as the four gentlemen -differ in temperament and approach. I shall first deal briefly with the -three living members of the quartet, two of whom are American citizens -of long standing.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>THEODORE KOSLOFF</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>I commence with one whose contributions to ballet have been the least. I -mention him at all only because, historically speaking, he has been -identified with dance in America a long time. With perhaps a single -notable exception, Theodore Kosloff’s contributions in all forms have -been slight.</p> - -<p>The best has been through teaching, for it is as a teacher that he is -likely to be remembered longest. Spectacular in his teaching<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_85">{85}</a></span> methods as -he is in person, it has been from his school that has come a substantial -number of artists of the dance who have made a distinctive place for -themselves in the dance world of America.</p> - -<p>Outstanding among these are Agnes de Mille, who has made an ineradicable -mark with her highly personal choreographic style, and Nana Gollner, -American <i>ballerina</i> of fine if somewhat uncontrolled talents, the -latter having received almost all her training at Kosloff’s hands and -cane.</p> - -<p>Theodore Kosloff was born in 1883. A pupil of the Moscow rather than the -Petersburg school, he eventually became a minor soloist at the Bolshoi -Theatre in Moscow, appearing in, among others, <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> and -<i>Daughter of Pharaoh</i>. When Diaghileff recruited his company, Kosloff -and his wife, Maria Baldina, were among the Muscovites engaged. Kosloff -was little more than a <i>corps de ballet</i> member with Diaghileff, with an -occasional small solo. But he had a roving and retentive eye.</p> - -<p>When Gertrude Hoffman and Morris Gest decided to jump the Russian Ballet -gun on Broadway, and to present their <i>Saison de Ballets Russes</i> at the -Winter Garden in advance of Diaghileff’s first American visit, it was -Theodore Kosloff who restaged the Fokine works for Hoffman, without so -much as tilt of the hat or a by-your-leave either to the creator or the -owner.</p> - -<p>Remaining in the States after the demise of the venture, Kosloff for a -time appeared in vaudeville with his wife, Baldina, and his younger -brother, Alexis, also a product of the Moscow School. One of these tours -took them to California, where Theodore settled in Hollywood. Here, -almost simultaneously, he opened his school and associated himself with -Cecil B. de Mille as an actor in silent film “epics.” He was equally -successful at both.</p> - -<p>Kosloff’s purely balletic activities thereafter included numerous -movie-house “presentations”—the unlamented spectacles that preceded the -feature film in the silent picture days, in palaces like Grauman’s -Egyptian and Grauman’s Chinese; a brief term as ballet-master of the San -Francisco Opera Ballet; and colossal and pepped-up versions of -<i>Petroushka</i> and <i>Schéhérazade</i>, the former in Los Angeles, the latter -at the Hollywood Bowl.</p> - -<p>Today, at seventy, Kosloff pounds his long staff at classes in the -shadow of the Hollywood hills, directing all his activity at perspiring -and aspiring young Americans, who in increasing numbers are looking -towards the future through the medium of ballet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_86">{86}</a></span></p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>LAURENT NOVIKOFF</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>The three living members of this male quartet were all Muscovites, which -is to say, products of the Imperial School of Moscow and dancers of the -Bolshoi Theatre, rather than products of the Maryinsky. In Russian -ballet this was a sharp distinction and a fine one, with the -Maryinskians inclined to glance down the nose a bit at their Moscow -colleagues. And possibly with reason.</p> - -<p>Laurent Novikoff was born five years later than Theodore Kosloff; he -graduated from the Moscow School an equal number of years later. He -remained at the Bolshoi Theatre for only a year before joining the -Diaghileff Ballet in Paris for an equal length of time. On his return to -Moscow at the close of the Diaghileff season, he became a first dancer -at the Bolshoi, only to leave to become Anna Pavlova’s partner the next -year. As a matter of fact, the three remaining members of the quartet -were all, at one time or another, partners of Pavlova.</p> - -<p>With Pavlova, Novikoff toured the United States in 1913 and in 1914. -Returning once again to Moscow, he staged ballets for opera, and -remained there until the revolution, when he went to London and rejoined -the Diaghileff Company, only to leave and join forces once again with -Pavlova, remaining with her this time for seven years, and eventually -opening a ballet school in London. In 1929, Novikoff accepted an -invitation from the Chicago Civic Opera Company to become its -ballet-master; and later, for a period of five years, he was -ballet-master of the Metropolitan Opera Company.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, Novikoff had a number of distinguished qualities, including -a fine virility, a genuinely romantic manner, imagination and authority. -As a choreographer, he can hardly be classified as a progressive. While -he staged a number of works for Pavlova, including, among others, -<i>Russian Folk Lore</i> and <i>Don Quixote</i>, most of his choreographic work -was with one opera company or another. In nearly all cases, ballet was, -as it still is, merely a poor step-sister in the opera houses and with -the opera companies, often regarded by opera directors merely as a -necessary nuisance, and only on rare occasions is an opera choreographer -ever given his head.</p> - -<p>A charming, cultured, and quite delightful gentleman, Laurent<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_87">{87}</a></span> Novikoff -now lives quietly with his wife Elizabeth in the American middle west.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ALEXANDRE VOLININE</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Alexandre Volinine was Anna Pavlova’s partner for a longer time than any -of the others. Born in 1883, he was a member of the same Moscow Imperial -class as Theodore Kosloff, attained the rank of first dancer at the -Bolshoi Theatre, and remained there for nine years.</p> - -<p>In 1910, he left Russia to become Pavlova’s partner, a position he held -intermittently for many years. Apart from being Pavlova’s chief support, -he made numerous American appearances. He was a member of Gertrude -Hoffman’s <i>Saison Russe</i>, at the Winter Garden, in 1911; and in the same -year supported the great Danish <i>ballerina</i>, Adeline Genée, at the -Metropolitan Opera House, in <i>La Danse</i>, “an authentic record by Mlle. -Genée of Dancing and Dancers between the years 1710 and 1845.”</p> - -<p>Volinine returned to the United States in 1912-1913, when, after the -historical break between Pavlova and Mordkin, the latter formed his -“All-Star Imperial Russian Ballet,” with Ekaterina Geltzer, Julia -Sedova, Lydia Lopokova, and Volinine. This was an ill-starred venture -from the start for no sooner had they opened at the Metropolitan Opera -House than Mordkin and Sedova quarrelled with Geltzer and, so -characteristic of Russian Ballet, the factions, in this case Polish and -English <i>versus</i> Russian, took violent sides. Volinine was on the side -of the former. As a result of the company split, the English-Polish -section went off on a tour across the country with Volinine, who -augmented their tiny salaries by five dollars weekly from his private -purse. After they had worked their way through the Deep South and -arrived at Creole New Orleans, the manager decamped for a time, and a -tremulous curtain descended on the first act of <i>Coppélia</i>, not to rise.</p> - -<p>By one means or another, and with some help from the British Consul in -New Orleans, they managed to return to New York by way of a stuffy -journey in a vile-smelling freighter plying along the coast. By quick -thinking, and even quicker acting, including mass-sitting on the -manager’s doorstep, they forced that individual to arrange for the -passage back to England, which<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_88">{88}</a></span> was accomplished with its share of -excitement; once back in England, Volinine returned to his place as -Pavlova’s first dancer.</p> - -<p>Volinine was the featured dancer with Pavlova in 1916, when I first met -her at the Hippodrome, and often accompanied us to supper. As the years -wore on, I learned to know and admire him.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, Volinine was a supreme technician, and, I believe, one of -the most perfect romantic dancers of his time. In his Paris school today -he is passing on his rare knowledge to the men of today’s generation of -<i>premières danseurs</i>. His teaching, combined with his quite superb -understanding of the scientific principles involved, are of great -service to ballet. Michael Somes, the first dancer of the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet, is among those who go to Volinine’s Paris studio for those -refining corrections obtainable only from a great teacher who has been a -great dancer.</p> - -<p>“Sasha” Volinine has, perhaps, spent as much or more of his professional -life in England, Australia, and other English-speaking countries, as any -Russian dancer. On the other hand, he speaks and understands less -English, perhaps, than any of the others.</p> - -<p>Often in America and London we have gone out to dine, to sup, often with -a group. “Sasha” invariably would be the first to ask the headwaiter or -<i>maître d’hôtel</i> for a copy of the menu. Immediately he would -concentrate on it, poring over it, giving it seemingly careful scrutiny -and study.</p> - -<p>All the others in the party would have ordered, and then, after long -cogitation, “Sasha” would summon the waiter and, pointing to something -in the menu utterly irrelevant, would solemnly demand: “Ham and eggs.”</p> - -<p>I am happy to count “Sasha” Volinine among my old friends, and it is -always a pleasure to foregather with him when I am in Paris.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ADOLPH BOLM</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>If my old friend, Adolph Bolm, were here to read this, he probably would -be the first to object to being classified with this quartet of -“Imperialists.” He would have pointed out to me in his emphatic manner -that by far the greater part of his career had been spent in the United -States, working for ballet in America. He would have insisted that he -neither thought nor acted like an “Imperialist”: that he was a -progressive, not a reactionary; and he would, at considerable length, -have advanced his theory that all “Imperialists<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_89">{89}</a></span>” were reactionaries. He -would have repeated to me that even when he was at the Maryinsky, he was -a rebel and a leader in the revolt against what he felt were the -stultifying influences of its inbred conservatism. This would have gone -on for some time, for Bolm was intelligent, literate, articulate, and -ready to make a speech at the drop of a ballet shoe, or no shoe at all.</p> - -<p>I have placed Bolm in this book among the “Imperialists” because he had -his roots in the Imperial Russian Ballet, where he was conditioned as -child and youth; he was a product of the School in Theatre Street and a -Maryinsky soloist for seven years; he was a contemporary and one-time -colleague of the three other members of this quartet, either in Russia -or with the Diaghileff Ballet Russe.</p> - -<p>Born in St. Petersburg in 1884, the son of the concert-master and -associate conductor of the French operatic theatre, the Mikhailovsky, -Bolm entered the School at ten, was a first-prize graduate in 1904. He -was never a great classical dancer; but he had a first-rate sense of the -theatre, was a brilliant character dancer, a superlative mime.</p> - -<p>Bolm was the first to take Anna Pavlova out of Russia, as manager and -first dancer of a Scandinavian and Central European tour that made -ballet history. He was, I happen to know, largely responsible in -influencing Pavlova temporarily to postpone the idea of a company of her -own and to abandon their own tour, because he believed the future of -Russian Ballet lay with Diaghileff. Although the Nijinsky legend -commences when Nijinsky first leapt through the window of the virginal -bedroom of <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>, in Paris in 1911, it was <i>Prince -Igor</i> and Bolm’s virile, barbaric warrior chieftain that provided the -greater impact and produced the outstanding revelation of male dancing -such as the Western World had not hitherto known.</p> - -<p>Bolm was intimately associated with the Diaghileff invasion of the -United States, when Diaghileff, a displaced and dispirited person -sitting out the war in Switzerland, was invited to bring his company to -America by Otto H. Kahn. But, owing to the war and the disbanding of his -company, it was impossible for Diaghileff to reassemble the original -personnel. It was a grave problem. Neither Nijinsky, Fokine, nor -Karsavina was available. It was then that Bolm took on the tremendous -dual role of first dancer and choreographer, engaging and rehearsing -what was to all intents and purposes a new company in a repertoire of -twenty-odd ballets. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_90">{90}</a></span> Diaghileff American tours were due in no small -degree to Bolm’s efforts in achieving what seemed to be the impossible.</p> - -<p>After the second Diaghileff American tour, during which Bolm was -injured, he remained in New York. Unlike many of his colleagues, his -quick intelligence grasped American ideas and points of view. This was -evidenced throughout his career by his interest in our native subjects, -composers, painters.</p> - -<p>With his own Ballet Intime, his motion picture theatre presentations of -ballet, his Chicago Allied Arts, his tenure with the Chicago Opera -Company, the San Francisco Opera Ballet, his production of <i>Le Coq d’Or</i> -and two productions of <i>Petroushka</i> at the Metropolitan Opera House, he -helped sow the seeds of real ballet appreciation across the country.</p> - -<p>My acquaintance and friendship with Adolph Bolm extended over a long -time. His experimental mind, his eagerness, his enthusiasm, his deep -culture, his capacity for friendship, his hospitality—all these -qualities endeared him to me. If one did not always agree with him (and -I, for one, did not), one could not fail to appreciate and respect his -honesty and sincerity. During a period when Ballet Theatre was under my -management, I was instrumental in placing him as the <i>régisseur general</i> -(general stage director to those unfamiliar with ballet’s term for this -important functionary) of the company, feeling that his discipline, -knowledge, taste, and ability would be helpful to the young company in -maintaining a high performing standard. Unhappily, much of the good he -did and could do was negated by an unfortunate attitude on the part of -some of our younger American dancers, who have little or no respect for -tradition, reputation, or style, and who seem actively to resent -achievement—in an art that has its roots in the past although its -branches stretch out to the future—rather than respect and admire it.</p> - -<p>A striking example of this sort of thing took place when I had been -instrumental, later on, in having Bolm stage a new version of -Stravinsky’s <i>Firebird</i>, for Ballet Theatre, in 1945, with Alicia -Markova and Anton Dolin.</p> - -<p>My last meeting with Bolm took place at the opening performance of the -Sadler’s Wells production of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, in Los Angeles. I -shall not soon forget his genuine enthusiasm and how he embraced Ninette -de Valois as he expressed his happiness that the great full-length -ballets in all their splendor had at last been brought to Los Angeles.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_91">{91}</a></span></p> - -<p>In his later years, Bolm lived on a hilltop in Hollywood; in Hollywood, -but not of it, with Igor Stravinsky and Nicholas Remisoff as two of his -closest and most intimate friends. One night, in the spring of 1951, -Bolm went to sleep and did not wake again in this world.</p> - -<p>His life had been filled with an intense activity, a remarkable -productivity in his chosen field—thirty-five years of it in the United -States, in the triple role of teacher, dancer, choreographer. As I have -intimated before, Bolm’s understanding of the things that are at the -root of the American character was, in my opinion, deeper and more -profound than that of any of his colleagues. His achievements will live -after him.</p> - -<p>My last contacts with Bolm revealed to me a man still vital, still -eager; but a little soured, a shade bitter, because he was conscious the -world was moving on and felt that the ballet was shutting him out.</p> - -<p>Before that bitterness could take too deep a root in the heart and soul -of a gentle artist, a Divine Providence closed his eyes in the sleep -everlasting.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_92">{92}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_6">6.</a> Tristan and Isolde: Michel and Vera Fokine</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span><b>F</b> ever there were two people who seemingly were inseparable, they were -Michel and Vera Fokine. Theirs was a modern love story that could rank -with those of Abélard and Heloïse, Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde. -The romance of the Fokines continued, unabated, till death did them -part.</p> - -<p>The story of Michel Fokine’s revolution in modern ballet has become an -important part of ballet’s history. The casual ballet-goer, to whom one -name sounds very much like another, recognizes the name of Fokine. He -may not realize the full importance of the man, but he has been unable -to escape the knowledge that some of the ballets he knows and loves best -are Fokine works.</p> - -<p>The literature that has grown up around Michel Fokine and his work is -fairly voluminous, as was his due. Yet, for those of today’s generation, -who are prone to forget too easily, it cannot be repeated too often that -had it not been for Michel Fokine, there might not have been any such -thing as modern ballet. For ballet, wherein he worked his necessary and -epoch-making revolution, was in grave danger of becoming moribund and -static, and might well, by this time, have become extinct.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_93">{93}</a></span></p> - -<p>He was a profound admirer of Isadora Duncan, although he denied he had -been influenced by her ideas. Fokine felt Duncan, in her concern for -movement, had brought dancing back to its beginnings. He was filled with -a divine disgust for the routine and the artificial practices of ballet -at the turn of the century. He was termed a heretic when he insisted -that each ballet demands a new technique appropriate to its style, -because he fought against the eternal stereotype.</p> - -<p>Fokine threw in his lot with Diaghileff and his group. With Diaghileff -his greatest masterpieces were created. Both Fokine and Diaghileff were -complicated human beings; both were artists. Problems were never simple -with either of them. There is no reason here to go into the causes for -the rupture between them. That there was a rupture and that it was never -completely healed is regrettable. It was tantamount to a divorce between -the parents of modern ballet. It was, as is so often the case in -divorce, the child that suffered.</p> - -<p>For a time following the break, the Fokines returned to Russia; and -then, in 1918, together with their son Vitale, spent some time in and -out of Finland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Conditions were not ideal -for creation, and nothing was added to the impressive list of Fokine -masterpieces.</p> - -<p>In 1919, Morris Gest was immersed in the production of a gargantuan -musical show destined for the Century Theatre: <i>Aphrodite</i>, based on an -English translation of Pierre Louys’ novel. Gest made Fokine an offer to -come to America to stage a Bacchanal for the work. Fokine accepted. -<i>Aphrodite</i> was not a very good musical, nor was it, as I remember it, a -very exciting Bacchanal; but it was a great success. Fokine himself was -far from happy with it.</p> - -<p>For a number of reasons, the Fokines decided to make New York their -home. They eventually bought a large house, where Riverside Drive joins -Seventy-second Street; converted part of the house into a dancing -studio, and lived in the rest of the house in an atmosphere of nostalgic -gloom, a sort of Chopinesque twilight. Ballet in America was at a very -low ebb when Fokine settled here. There was a magnificent opportunity to -hand for the father of modern ballet, had he but taken it. For some -reason he muffed the big chance. Perhaps he was embittered by a series -of unhappy experiences, not the least of which was the changed political -scene in his beloved Russia, to which he was never, during the rest of -his life, able to make adjustment. He was content, as an artist, for the -most part to rest on his<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_94">{94}</a></span> considerable laurels. There was always -<i>Schéhérazade</i>. More importantly, there was always <i>Sylphides</i>.</p> - -<p>Fokine’s creative life, in the true sense, was something he left behind -in Europe. He never seemed to sense or to try to understand the American -impulse, rhythm, or those things which lie at the root of our native -culture. In the bleak Riverside Drive mansion, he taught rather -half-heartedly at classes, but gave much of his time and energy in -well-paid private lessons to the untalented daughters of the rich.</p> - -<p>From the choreographic point of view, he was satisfied, for the most -part, to reproduce his early masterpieces with inferior organizations, -or to stage lesser pieces for the Hippodrome or the Ziegfeld Follies. -One of the latter will suffice as an example. It was called <i>Frolicking -Gods</i>, a whimsy about a couple of statues of Greek Gods who came to -life, became frightened at a noise, and returned to their marble -immobility. And it may be of interest to note that these goings-on were -all accomplished to, of all things, Tchaikowsky’s <i>Nutcracker Suite</i>. -There was also a pseudo-Aztec affair, devised, so far as tale was -concerned, by Vera Fokine, and called <i>The Thunder Bird</i>. The Aztec -quality was emphasized by the use of a pastiche of music culled from the -assorted works of Tchaikowsky, Glinka, Rimsky-Korsakoff, Balakirev, and -Borodine.</p> - -<p>It was during the winter of 1920, not long after the Fokines, with their -son Vitale, had arrived here, that we came together professionally. I -arranged to present them jointly in a series of programmes at the -Metropolitan Opera House, with Arnold Volpe and his Symphony Orchestra.</p> - -<p>Fokine came with me to see the Metropolitan stage. He arrived at what -might have been a ticklish moment. Fokine was extremely sensitive to -what he called “pirated” versions of his works. There was, of course, no -copyright protection for them, since choreography had no protection -under American copyright law. Fokine was equally certain that he, -Fokine, was the only person who could possibly reproduce his works. As -we entered the Metropolitan, Adolph Bolm was appearing in an -opera-ballet version of Rimsky-Korsakoff’s <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>. The -performance had commenced.</p> - -<p>As I have intimated, after he broke with Diaghileff, Fokine was so -depressed that for some time he could not work at all. Then he received -an invitation from Anna Pavlova to come to Berlin, where she was about -to produce some new ballets. Fokine accepted the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_95">{95}</a></span> invitation, and when -Pavlova asked him to suggest a subject, Fokine proposed a ballet based -on the opera, <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>. Pavlova, however, considered the plot of -the Rimsky-Korsakoff work to be too political, and also felt it unwise -of her to offer a subject burlesquing the Tsar.</p> - -<p>It was not until after Fokine temporarily returned to the Diaghileff -fold that <i>Le Coq d’Or</i> achieved production. Diaghileff agreed with -Fokine on the subject, and Fokine was anxious that it should be mounted -in as modern a manner as possible. The story of the opera, based on -Pushkin’s well-known poem, as adapted to the stage by V. Bielsky, -requires no comment. Fokine’s opera-ballet production was, in its way, -quite unique. There were two casts, which is to say, singers and -dancers. While one character danced and acted, the words in the libretto -were spoken or sung by the dancing character’s counterpart.</p> - -<p>As a result of the Metropolitan Opera Company’s wartime ban on anything -German, in 1917, Pierre Monteux, the former Diaghileff conductor, was -imported by the Metropolitan for the expanded French list. One of the -results of Monteux’s influence on the Metropolitan repertoire was <i>Le -Coq d’Or</i>. Adolph Bolm, by that time resident in New York, having -remained here after the last Diaghileff American season, was engaged by -Otto H. Kahn to stage the work in the style of the Diaghileff -production. Bolm, who had his own ideas, nevertheless based his work on -Fokine’s basic plan, and that of the Fokine-Diaghileff production. Bolm -was meticulous, however, in insisting that credit be given to Fokine for -the original idea, and it was always billed as “after Michel Fokine.” -The Metropolitan production, as designed by the Hungarian artist, Willy -Pogany, whose sets were among the best the Metropolitan ever has seen, -resulted in one of the most attractive and exciting productions the -Metropolitan has achieved. Aside from the production itself, the singing -of the Spanish coloratura, Maria Barrientos, as the Queen, the -conducting of Monteux, and the dancing of Bolm as King Dodon, set a new -standard for the Metropolitan.</p> - -<p>On the occasion I have mentioned, we entered the front of the house, and -Fokine watched a bit of the performance with me, standing in the back of -the auditorium. He had no comment, which was unusual for him.</p> - -<p>After watching for a time, I asked Fokine if he would care to meet his -old colleague. He said he would. Together we felt our way<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_96">{96}</a></span> back stage in -the dimly lighted passages. The pass-door to back-stage was even darker. -I stood aside to let Fokine precede me. Then my heart nearly stopped. -Fokine stumbled and nearly fell prostrate on the iron-concrete steps. He -picked himself up, brushed himself off. “Mikhail Mikhailovitch,” I said, -half frightened to death, “you must be careful.”</p> - -<p>“It is nothing,” he replied, “but why in hell isn’t the place properly -lighted?”</p> - -<p>The meeting with Bolm, who had made Fokine’s favorite ballet even more -exciting than it actually was, was cordial enough, cool, and uneventful. -Bolm was by far the more demonstrative. Their conversation was general -rather than particular. Fokine and I looked over the stage, its size and -its equipment. Fokine thanked Bolm, apologized for the interruption, and -took his leave. As we felt our way out to the street, Fokine’s only -comment on <i>Le Coq d’Or</i> was, “The women’s shawls should be farther back -on the head. They are quite impossible when worn like that. And when -they weep, they should weep.”</p> - -<p>Fokine was a stickler for detail. In conversation about dancing, over -and over again he would use two Russian words, “<i>Naslajdaites</i>” and -“<i>laska</i>.” Freely translated, those Russian words suggest “do it as -though you enjoyed yourself” and “caressingly.”</p> - -<p>The programme for the appearances at the Metropolitan had been carefully -worked out, balanced with joint performances, solos for each, with -symphony orchestra interludes while Michel and Vera were changing -costumes. For the opening performance it was decided that Michel and -Vera would jointly do the lovely waltz from <i>Les Sylphides</i>; a group of -Caucasian dances to music arranged by Asafieff; the Mazurka from -Delibes’ <i>Coppélia</i>; and a group of five Russian dances by Liadov. -Fokine himself would do the male solo, the Mazurka from <i>Les Sylphides</i>, -and a Liadov <i>Berceuse</i>; while Vera’s solo contributions would be <i>The -Dying Swan</i>, and the arrangement Fokine made for her of Beethoven’s -“<i>Moonlight Sonata</i>.”</p> - -<p>The advertising campaign was under full steam ahead, and rehearsals were -well under way. So well were things going, in fact, that I relaxed my -habitual pre-opening tension for a moment at my home, which was, in -those days, in Brooklyn. I even missed a rehearsal, since Fokine was at -his very best, keen and interested, and the music was in the able hands -of Arnold Volpe, a musician who worked passionately for the highest -artistic aims, a Russian-born American</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_001" style="width: 393px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_01.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_01.jpg" width="393" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p> - -<p>S. Hurok</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_002" style="width: 403px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_02.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_02.jpg" width="403" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Lucas-Pritchard</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hurok</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_003" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_03a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_03a.jpg" width="550" height="517" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Lido</i></p> - -<p>Lubov Egorova and Solange Schwartz</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_03b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_03b.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Marie Rambert</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_004" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_04a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_04a.jpg" width="550" height="469" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Lido</i></p> - -<p>Olga Preobrajenska in her Paris school</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_005" style="width: 347px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_04b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_04b.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Lydia Lopokova</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Hoppé</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_006" style="width: 326px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_05a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_05a.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Tamara Karsavina</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_007" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_05b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_05b.jpg" width="550" height="390" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Mathilde Kchessinska</p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Lido</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_008" style="width: 343px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_06a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_06a.jpg" width="343" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Maurice Goldberg</i></p> - -<p>Michel Fokine</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_009" style="width: 283px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_06b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_06b.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Adolph Bolm</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Maurice Seymour</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_010" style="width: 296px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_07a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_07a.jpg" width="296" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Acme</i></p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_011" style="width: 534px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_07b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_07b.jpg" width="534" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Alexandre Volinine in his Paris studio, with Colette Marchand</p></div> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Lido</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_012" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_08a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_08a.jpg" width="550" height="408" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baker</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Ballet Pioneering in America: “Sasha” Philipoff, Irving Deakin, -Olga Morosova, “Colonel” W. de Basil, Sono Osato -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_013" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_08b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_08b.jpg" width="550" height="343" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p>S. Hurok, “Colonel” W. de Basil and leading members of the de Basil -Ballet Russe, 1933. Back row: David Lichine, Vania Psota, Sasha -Alexandroff, S. Hurok; Center row: Leonide Massine, Tatiana -Riabouchinska, Col. W. de Basil, Nina Verchinina, Yurek -Shabalevsky; Front row: Edward Borovansky, Tamara Toumanova</p> -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Nikoff</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_97">{97}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">pioneer in music. Volpe devoted his entire life, from the time of his -arrival in this country until his death, to the cause of young American -musicians. He was an ideal collaborator for the Fokines. There was a -fine understanding between Fokine and Volpe, and the performances, -therefore, were splendid. I felt content.</p> - -<p>But not for long. My peace of mind was shattered by a telephone call. It -was Mrs. Volpe. The news was bad. Fokine had suffered an injury during -rehearsal. He had pulled a leg tendon. The pain was severe. The -rehearsal had been abandoned.</p> - -<p>I rushed to Manhattan and up to the old Marie Antoinette Hotel, famous -as the long-time home of that wizard of the American theatre, David -Belasco. Here the Fokines had made their temporary home, while searching -for a house. Michel was in bed, with Vera in solicitous attendance. To -understate, the news was very bad. The doctor, who had just left, had -said it would be at least six weeks before he could permit Fokine to -dance.</p> - -<p>But the performance <i>had</i> to be given Tuesday night. It was now Sunday. -There was all the publicity, all the advertising, and the rent of the -Metropolitan Opera House had to be paid. This was not all. A tour had -been booked to follow the Metropolitan appearance, including -Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, and Richmond. Apart from my own -expenses, there were the responsibilities to the various local managers -and managements concerned. Something had to be done, and at once. The -newspapers had to be informed.</p> - -<p>The silence of the hotel bedroom, hitherto broken only by Vera’s cooing -ministrations, deepened. It was I who spoke. An idea flashed through my -mind.</p> - -<p>“Mikhail Mikhailovitch,” I said, “could Vera Petrovna do a full -programme on Tuesday night on her own?”</p> - -<p>Michel and Vera exchanged glances. There was something telepathic in the -communication between their eyes.</p> - -<p>Fokine turned his head in my direction.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said.</p> - -<p>Quickly the programme was rearranged. Fokine suggested adding a Chopin -group, which he called <i>Poland—Three Moods: Happiness, Revolt, -Sadness</i>.</p> - -<p>We went into action. The orchestra seat prices were five dollars, and a -five-dollar top was high in those days. Announcements were rushed out, -informing the public in big type that Vera Fokina, <i>Prima Ballerina -Russian Ballet</i>, would appear, together with the ad<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_98">{98}</a></span>justed programme, -which we agreed upon as follows: Arnold Volpe and his Symphony Orchestra -would play Weber’s <i>Oberon</i> Overture; Saint-Saens’ Symphonic Poem, -<i>Rouet d’Omphale</i>; Beethoven’s <i>Egmont Overture</i>; Rimsky-Korsakoff’s -<i>Capriccio Espagnol</i>; Ippolitoff-Ivanoff’s <i>Caucasian Sketches</i>; and the -<i>Wedding Procession</i> from Rimsky-Korsakoff’s <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>. Fokina had -an evening cut out for her: the three Polish moods I have mentioned; -<i>The Dying Swan</i>; <i>The “Moonlight” Sonata</i>; the <i>Danses Tziganes</i>, by -Nachez; <i>Sapeteado</i>, a Gitano Dance, by Hartmann; two <i>Caucasian -Dances</i>, to folk music arranged by Asafief; and four of Liadov’s -<i>Russian Folk Dances</i>.</p> - -<p>A large sign to the same effect was installed in the lobby of the -Metropolitan Opera House. The news spread quickly. But the public did -not seem to mind. In this eleventh-hour shifting of arrangements, I was -happy to have the whole-hearted cooperation of John Brown and Edward -Ziegler, the administrative heads of the Metropolitan Opera Company.</p> - -<p>The first performance was sold out; the audience was enthusiastic. -Moreover, while in those days there were no dance critics, the press -comment, largely a matter of straight reporting, was highly favorable. I -should like to quote <i>The New York Times</i> account in full as an example -of the sort of attention given then to such an important event, some -thirty-odd years ago: <i>“FOKINA’S ART DELIGHTS METROPOLITAN AUDIENCE—Her -Husband and Partner Ill, Russian Dancers Interest Throng Alone, with -Volpe’s Aid: Vera Fokina, the noted Russian dancer performed an unusual -feat on February 11, when she kept a great audience in the Metropolitan -keenly interested in her art for almost three hours. When it was -announced that Mr. Fokine, her husband, was ill and therefore not able -to carry out his part of the program, a murmur of dissatisfaction was -audible. But the auditors soon forgot their disappointment and wondered -at Mme. Fokina’s graceful and vivid interpretations</i>.</p> - -<p>“<i>Among the best liked of her offerings was the ‘Dying Swan,’ with -Saint-Saens’s music. Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ Sonata, well played by an -invisible pianist, Izia Seligman, and the Russian and Gipsy pieces. She -was compelled to give many encores.</i></p> - -<p>“<i>Arnold Volpe and his orchestra took a vital part in the program, -playing the music with a fine instinct for the interpretative ideas of -the dancer. He conducted his forces through some of the compositions -intended as the vehicles for the absent Mr. Fokine, and thus won an -honest share in the success of the entertainment.</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_99">{99}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>So much for ballet criticism in New York in 1920.</p> - -<p>The tour had to go on with Fokina alone, although Fokine had recovered -sufficiently to hobble about and to supervise and direct and oversee. A -certain Mr. K. had associated himself as a sort of local representative. -Mr. K. was not much of a local manager; but he did have an unholy talent -for cheque-bouncing. It was not a matter of one or two, due to some -error; they bounded and bounced all over the country in droves, and -daily. If the gods that be had seen fit to give me a less sound nervous -system than, happily, they have, K.’s financial antics could have -brought on a nervous breakdown.</p> - -<p>At the same time, Fokine, with his tremendous insistence on perfection, -hobbled about, giving orders to all and sundry in a mixture of -languages—Russian, French, German, Swedish, and Danish—that no one, -but no one, was able to understand. Even up to the time of his death, -English was difficult for Mikhail Mikhailovitch, and he spoke it, at all -times, with an unreproducible accent. His voice, unless excited, was -softly guttural. In typically Russian fashion, he interchanged the -letters “g” and “h.” Always there was an almost limitless range of -facial expressions.</p> - -<p>On this tour, Fokine, being unable to dance, had more time on his hands -to worry about everything else. His lighting rehearsals were long and -chaotic, since provincial electricians were not conspicuous either for -their ability, their interest, or their patience. During the lighting -rehearsals, since he was immobilised by his injury, Fokine and Vera -would sit side by side. He knew what he wanted; but, before he would -finally approve anything, he would turn to her for her commendation; and -there would pass between them that telepathic communication I often saw, -and about which I have remarked before. Occasionally, if something -amused them, they would laugh together; but, more often than not, their -faces revealed no more than would a skilled poker-player’s.</p> - -<p>Fokine could manage to keep his temper on an even keel for a -considerable time, if he put his mind to it. There was no affectation -about Fokine, either artistically or personally. In appearance there was -not a single one of those artificial eccentricities so often associated -with the “artistic temperament.” To the man in the street he would have -passed for a solidly successful business man. At work he was a -taskmaster unrelenting, implacable, fanatical frequently to the point of -downright cruelty. At rest, he was a gentleman of great charm and -simplicity, with a sense of humor and a certain<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_100">{100}</a></span> capacity for enjoyment. -Unfortunately, his sense of humor had a way of deserting him at critical -moments. This, coupled with a lack of tact, made him many enemies among -those who were once his closest friends. These occasional flashes of -geniality came only when things were going his way; but, if things did -not go as he wanted, his rages could be and were devastating, -all-consuming.</p> - -<p>One such incident occurred in Philadelphia. As a matter of fact, -Philadelphia was marked by incidents. The first was one I had with -Edward Lobe, then manager of Philadelphia’s Metropolitan Opera House, -then at Broad and Poplar Streets. It had to do with some of the bouncing -K.’s bouncing paper. This straightened out, I returned to the stage to -find turmoil rampant. There was another crisis.</p> - -<p>The crisis had been precipitated by the man whose job it was to operate -the curtain. Fokine had shouted and screamed “<i>Zanovess! Zanovess!</i>” at -the unfortunate individual. Now “<i>Zanovess</i>” is the Russian word for -curtain. The curtain had not fallen. Fokine could not say “curtain.” The -operator did not have the vaguest idea of the meaning of “<i>zanovess</i>.” -Moreover, the stage-hand suspected, from the tone of Fokine’s voice, his -barked order, and the fierce expression of his face that he was being -called names. When, finally, Fokine screamed “<i>Idyot!</i>” at him, the -curtain-man knew for sure he had been insulted. The argument and -hostility spread through his colleagues.</p> - -<p>Eventually, I got them calmed down. Fokine insisted they were all -idiots; they were all ignorant. This idea leaked through to the -stage-hands, and that did not help matters. I finally suggested that, -since neither of them could understand the other, the best procedure -would be not to scream and shout and stomp—uttering strange mixed -French and Russian oaths—but to be quiet and to show by gesture and -pantomime, rather than to give unintelligible verbal orders. So, with -only minor subsequent scenes, the rehearsal got itself finished.</p> - -<p>Also, in Philadelphia, we had substituted <i>Salome’s Dance of the Seven -Veils</i>, done to Glazounov’s score of the same name, in place of the -<i>“Moonlight” Sonata.</i> It is hardly necessary to point out that the -veils, all seven of them, are vastly important. Because of their -importance, these had been entrusted to the keeping of Clavia, Vera’s -Russian maid, instead of being packed with the other costumes. But, come -performance time, Clavia could not be found. Hue and cry were raised; -her hotel alerted; restaurants searched; but still no Clavia. She simply -had to be found. I pressed Marie Volpe, Arnold Volpe’s singer-wife, into -the breach to act as maid for Vera, and to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_101">{101}</a></span> help her dress. But only -Clavia knew where Salome’s veils had been secreted. The performance -started. The search continued.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, there came a series of piercing screams emanating from an -upper floor dressing-room. Haunted by visions of the Phantom of the -Opera, I rushed up the stairs to find Clavia lying on the floor, -obviously in pain. We managed to get her down to Fokina’s room and -placed her on the couch in what was known in Philadelphia as “Caruso’s -Room,” the star dressing-room Fokina was using. As we entered, Fokina -stood ready to go on stage, costumed for <i>The Dying Swan</i>. The situation -was obvious. Clavia was about to give birth to a child. The labor pains -had commenced. I pushed Vera on to the stage and Marie Volpe into the -room—in the nick of time. Mrs. Volpe, a concert singer, pinch-hitting -as a maid for Vera, now turned midwife for the first time in her life. -By the time the ambulance and the doctor arrived, mother and infant were -doing as well as could be expected.</p> - -<p>Next morning Mrs. Volpe found herself a new role. A lady of high moral -scruples, herself a mother, she had realized that no one had mentioned a -father for the child. Mrs. Volpe had assumed the role of detective (a -dangerous one, I assure the reader, in ballet), and was determined to -run down the child’s father. The newspaper stories, with the headline: -“<i>CHILD BORN IN CARUSO’S DRESSING ROOM</i>,” had not been too reassuring to -Mrs. Volpe. I counselled her that she would be well advised to let the -matter drop.</p> - -<p>On our arrival in Baltimore, I was greeted by the news that my -rubber-wizard of a local manager, the bouncing Mr. K., had decamped with -the box-office sale, leaving behind only some rubber cheques. This, in -itself, I felt was enough for one day. But it was not to be. Vera, as -curtain time approached, once again was up to her usual business of -exhibiting “temperament,” spoiling her life, as she so often did in this -respect, throughout her dancing career.</p> - -<p>“What is it now?” I asked.</p> - -<p>She waxed wroth with great volubility and at considerable length, with -profound indignation that the stage floor-cloth was, as she said, -“impossible.” Nothing I could say was of any avail. Vera refused, -absolutely, irrevocably, unconditionally, to dance. Mrs. Volpe was to -help her into her street clothes, and at once. She would return to her -hotel. She would return to New York. I must cancel the engagement, the -tour, all because of the stage-cloth. And the audience was already -filling the theatre.</p> - -<p>I thought quickly and went into action. Calling the head car<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_102">{102}</a></span>penter and -the property man together, I got them to turn the floor-cloth round. -Then, going back to the dressing-room, where Vera was preparing to -leave, I succeeded in convincing her by showing her that it was an -entirely new doth that we had just got for her happiness.</p> - -<p>Vera Fokina never danced better than that night in Baltimore.</p> - -<p>Our farewell performance, with both Fokines dancing, took place at -Charles Dillingham’s Hippodrome, on Sunday evening, 29th May, 1920. For -this occasion, the Fokines appeared together, by popular request, in the -Harlequin and Columbine variation from his own masterpiece, <i>Carnaval</i>; -Fokine alone danced the <i>Dagestanskaja Lezginka</i>, and staged a work he -called <i>Amoun and Berenis</i>, actually scenes from his <i>Une Nuit -d’Egypte</i>, which Diaghileff called <i>Cléopâtre</i>, adapted, musically, from -Anton Arensky’s score for the ballet. I quote Fokine’s own libretto for -the work:</p> - -<div class="blockquott"><p>Amoun and Berenis are engaged in the sport of hunting. She -represents Gazelle, and he the hunter who wounds her in the breast. -The engaged couple plight each other to everlasting love. But soon -Amoun betrays his bride. He falls in love with Queen Cleopatra. Not -having the opportunity of coming near his beloved queen, he sends -an arrow with a note professing his love and readiness to sacrifice -his life for her. Notwithstanding the tears and prayers of Berenis, -he throws himself into the arms of Cleopatra, and, lured by her -tenderness, he accepts from her hands a cup of poison, drinks it -and dies. Berenis finds the corpse of her lover, forgives him and -mourns his death.</p></div> - -<p class="nind">The Hippodrome version consisted of “The Meeting of Amoun and Berenis” -“The Entrance of Cleopatra,” by the orchestra; “The Dance Before -Cleopatra”; “The Betrayal of Amoun and the Jealousy of Berenis”; “The -Hebrew Dance,” by the orchestra; “The Death of Amoun and the Mourning of -Berenis.”</p> - -<p>In 1927, I presented the Fokines with their “American Ballet,” composed -of their pupils, at the Masonic Auditorium, in Detroit, and on -subsequent tours. Prominent professional dancers were added to the pupil -roster.</p> - -<p>That summer, with the Fokines and their company, I introduced ballet to -the Lewisohn Stadium Concerts in New York, for three performances, to a -record audience of forty-eight thousand people. I also presented them -for four performances at the Century Theatre<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_103">{103}</a></span> in Central Park West. The -Stadium programmes included <i>Les Elves</i>, arranged to Mendelssohn’s -<i>Overture to a Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>, with the addition of the same -composer’s Andante and Allegro from the <i>Violin Concerto</i>. Also -<i>Medusa</i>, a tragedy set to Tchaikowsky’s <i>Symphonie Pathétique</i>, a work -for four characters, the title role being danced by Vera Fokina, and the -sea god Poseidon, who fell in love with the beautiful Medusa, danced by -Fokine.</p> - -<p>It was during one of the Stadium performances, I remember, I had -occasion to go to the Fokines’ dressing-room on some errand. I knocked, -and believing I heard an invitation to enter, opened the door to -discover the two Fokines dissolved in tears of happiness. So moved was -Michel by Vera’s performance of the title role in <i>Medusa</i>, that they -were sobbing in each other’s arms.</p> - -<p>“Wonderful, wonderful, my darling!” Fokine was murmuring. “Such a -beautiful performance; and to think you did it all in such a short -period, with so very few rehearsals; and the really amazing thing is -that you portrayed the character of the creature precisely as it is in -my mind!”</p> - -<p>In the love, the adoration, the romance of Michel and Vera Fokine, there -was the greatest continuous devotion between man and wife that it has -been my privilege to know.</p> - -<p>Fokine’s American ballet creations have been lost. Perhaps it is as -well. For the closing chapter of the life of a truly great artist they -were sadly inferior. Towards the end of his career, however, he staged -some fresh, new works in France for René Blum’s Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, including <i>Les Elements</i>, <i>Don Juan</i>, and <i>L’Epreuve d’Amour</i>. -Then, for de Basil’s Original Ballet Russe, <i>Cinderella</i>, or since he -used the French, <i>Cendrillon</i>, to a commissioned score by Baron Frederic -d’Erlanger, which might have been better. But choreographically -<i>Cendrillon</i> was a return to the triumphant Fokine. There was also his -triumphant re-staging of <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>. Perhaps his last really great -triumph was his collaboration with Serge Rachmaninoff on <i>Paganini</i>, a -work that takes rank with Fokine’s finest.</p> - -<p>Fokine restaged <i>Les Sylphides</i> and <i>Carnaval</i> for Ballet Theatre’s -initial season. When Ballet Theatre was under my management, he created -<i>Bluebeard</i>, in 1941, for Anton Dolin. In 1942, I was instrumental in -having German Sevastianov engage Fokine to stage the nostalgic tragedy, -<i>Russian Soldier</i>, to the music of Prokofieff.</p> - -<p>While in Mexico, in the summer of 1942, working on <i>Helen of Troy</i>, for -Ballet Theatre, Fokine contracted pleurisy, which developed into -pneumonia on his return to New York, where he died, on<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_104">{104}</a></span> 22nd August. For -a dancer, he was on the youthful side. He was born in Mannheim-am-Rhine, -Germany, 26th April, 1880, the son of Ekaterina Gindt. According to the -official records of the St. Petersburg Imperial School, his father was -unknown. He was adopted by a merchant, Mikhail Feodorovitch Fokine, who -gave him his name. In 1898, he graduated from the St. Petersburg -Imperial School. In 1905, he married Vera Petrovna Antonova, the -daughter of a master of the wig-maker’s Guild, who had graduated from -the School the year before.</p> - -<p>At the funeral service at the Russian Orthodox Cathedral, in New York, -were assembled all of the dance world in New York in mid-summer, to do -him honor.</p> - -<p>Some of his works will live on, but they suffer with each passing year -because, in most cases, they are not properly done. The Sadler’s Wells -and Royal Danish Ballet productions of the Fokine works are the -exceptions. But all his works suffered continually during his lifetime, -because Fokine had a faulty memory, and his restaging of the works was, -all too often, the product of unhappy afterthoughts. Towards the end of -his life he became more and more embittered. He, the one-time great -revolutionary, resented the new developments in ballet, perhaps because -they had not been developed by Fokine.</p> - -<p>This bitterness was quite unnecessary, for Fokine remains the greatest -creator of modern ballet. His works, properly staged, will always -provide a solid base for all ballet programmes. Despite the hue and cry, -despite the lavish praise heaped upon each new experiment by modern -choreographers, and upon the choreographers themselves, in all -contemporary ballet there is no one to take his place.</p> - -<p>Other ballet-masters, other choreographers, working with the same basic -materials, in the same spirit, in the same language, often require -detailed synopses and explanations for their works, in spite of which -the meaning of them often remains lost in the murk of darkest obscurity. -I remember once asking Fokine to supply a synopsis of one of his new -works for programme purposes. I shall not forget his reply: “No synopsis -is needed for my ballets. My ballets unfold their stories on the stage. -There is never any doubt as to what they say.”</p> - -<p>I have visited Vera Petrovna Fokine in the castle on the Hudson where -she lives in lonely nostalgia. But it is not quite true that she lives -alone; for she lives with the precious memory of a great love, a -tremendous reputation, the memory of a great artist, the artist who -created <i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Prince Igor</i>, and <i>Petroushka</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_105">{105}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_7">7.</a> Ballet Reborn In America: W. De Basil and His Ballets Russes De Monte Carlo</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span><b>HE</b> last of the two American tours of Serge de Diaghileff’s Ballets -Russes was during the season 1916-1917.</p> - -<p>The last American tour of Anna Pavlova and her company was during the -season 1925-1926.</p> - -<p>Serge Diaghileff died at Venice, on 19th August, 1929.</p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova died at The Hague, on 23rd January, 1931.</p> - -<p>W. de Basil’s Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo gave their first American -performances at the St. James Theatre, New York, on 21st December, 1933.</p> - -<p>Such ballet as America saw between Pavlova’s last performance in 1926 -and the first de Basil performance in 1933, may be briefly stated.</p> - -<p>From 1924 to 1927, in Chicago, there was the Chicago Allied Arts, -sometimes described as the first “ballet theatre” in the United States, -sparked by Adolph Bolm.</p> - -<p>In 1926 and 1927, there were a few sporadic performances by Mikhail -Mordkin and his Russian Ballet Company, which included Xenia Macletzova, -Vera Nemtchinova, Hilda Butsova, and Pierre Vladimiroff.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_106">{106}</a></span></p> - -<p>From 1928 to 1931, Leonide Massine staged weekly ballet productions at -the Roxy Theatre, in New York, including a full-length <i>Schéhérazade</i>, -with four performances daily, Massine acting both as choreographer and -leading dancer. In 1930, he staged Stravinsky’s <i>Le Sacre du Printemps</i>, -for four performances in Philadelphia and two at the Metropolitan Opera -House, in New York, with the collaboration of Leopold Stokowski and the -Philadelphia Orchestra, and with Martha Graham making one of her rare -appearances in ballet, in the leading role.</p> - -<p>That is the story. Hardly a well-tilled ground in which to sow balletic -seed with the hope of a bumper crop. It is not surprising that all my -friends and all my rival colleagues in the field of management -prophesied dire things for me (presumably with different motives) when I -determined on the rebirth of ballet in America in the autumn of 1933. -Their predictions were as mournful as those of Macbeth’s witches.</p> - -<p>The ballet situation in the Western World, after the deaths of -Diaghileff and Pavlova, save for the subsidized ballets at the Paris -Opera and La Scala in Milan, was not vastly different. If you will look -through the files of the European newspapers of the period, you will -find an equally depressing note: “The Swan passes, and ballet with her” -... “The puppet-master is gone; the puppets must be returned to their -boxes” ... and a bit later: “Former Diaghileff dancers booked to appear -in revues and cabaret turns.” ...</p> - -<p>In England, J. Maynard Keynes, Lydia Lopokova, Ninette de Valois, Marie -Rambert, Constant Lambert, and Arnold L. Haskell had formed the Camargo -Society for Sunday night ballet performances, which organization gave -birth to Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club and the Vic Wells Ballet. In 1933, -the glories of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet were hardly dreams, not yet a -glimmer in Ninette de Valois’ eye.</p> - -<p>In Europe there remained only the Diaghileff remains and a vacant -Diaghileff contract at Monte Carlo. This latter deserves a word of -explanation. Diaghileff had acquired the name—the Ballets Russes de -Monte Carlo—thanks to the Prince of Monaco, himself a ballet lover, who -had offered Diaghileff and his company a home and a place to work.</p> - -<p>René Blum, an intellectual French gentleman of deep culture and fine -taste, took over the unexpired Diaghileff Monte Carlo contract. Blum was -at hand for, at the time of Diaghileff’s death, he was at<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_107">{107}</a></span> the head of -the dramatic theatre at Monte Carlo. In fulfilment of the Diaghileff -contract, for a time Blum booked such itinerant ballet groups as he -could. Then, in 1931, he organized his own Ballets Russes de Monte -Carlo. George Balanchine, who had staged some of the last of the -Diaghileff works, became the first choreographer for the new company. -For the Monte Carlo repertoire, he created three works. To it, from -Paris, he brought two of the soon-to-become-famous “baby ballerinas,” -Irina Baronova and Tamara Toumanova, both from the classroom of Olga -Preobrajenska.</p> - -<p>Early in 1932, René Blum joined forces with one of the most curious -personalities that modern ballet has turned up, in the person of a -gentleman who wished to be known as Col. W. de Basil.</p> - -<p>De Basil had had a ballet company of sorts for some time. I first ran -into him in Paris, shortly after Diaghileff’s death, where he had allied -himself with Prince Zeretelli’s Russian Opera Company; and again in -London, where the Lionel Powell management, in association with the -Imperial League of Opera, had given them a season of combined opera and -ballet at the old Lyceum Theatre. With ballets by Boris Romanoff and -Bronislava Nijinska, de Basil had toured his little troupe around Europe -in buses, living from hand to mouth; had turned up for a season at Monte -Carlo, at René Blum’s invitation. That did it. De Basil worked out a -deal with Blum, whereby de Basil became a joint managing director of the -combined companies, now under the title of Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. -A season was given in the summer of 1932, in Paris, at the <i>Théâtre des -Champs Elysées</i>.</p> - -<p>It was there I first saw the new company. It was then I took the plunge. -I negotiated. I signed them for a visit to the American continent. A -book could be devoted to these negotiations alone. It would not be -believable; it would fail to pass every test of credibility ever -devised.</p> - -<p>I feel that this is the point at which to digress for a moment, in order -to sketch in a line drawing of de Basil, with some of the shadows and -some of the substance. Unless I do, no reader will be able to understand -why I once contemplated a book to be called <i>To Hell With Ballet</i>!</p> - -<p>To begin with, de Basil was a Cossack and a Caucasian. Neither term -carries with it any connotation of gentleness or sensitivity. De Basil -was one of the last persons in the world you would expect to find at the -head of an organization devoted to the development of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_108">{108}</a></span> the gentle, lyric -art of the ballet. Two more dissimilar partners in an artistic venture -than de Basil and Blum could not be found.</p> - -<p>René Blum, the gentle, cultured intellectual, was a genuine artist: -amiable, courteous, and fully deserving of the often misused phrase—a -man of the world. His alliance with de Basil was foredoomed to failure; -for one of René Blum’s outstanding characteristics was a passion to -avoid arguments, discussions, scandals, troubles of any sort. Blum -commanded the highest respect from his artists and associates; but they -never feared him. To them he was the kind, understanding friend to whom -they might run with their troubles and problems. Blum’s sensitivity was -such that he would run from de Basil as one would try to escape a -plague. René Blum, you would say, was, perhaps, the ivory-tower -dilettante. You would be wrong. René Blum gave the lie to this during -the war by revealing himself a man of heroic stature. On the occupation -of France, he was in grave danger, since he was a Jew, and the brother -of Léon Blum, the Socialist leader, great French patriot and one-time -Premier. René, however, was safely and securely out of the country. But -he, too, was a passionate lover of France. France, he felt, needed him. -Tossing aside his own safety, he returned to his beloved country, to -share its fate. His son, who was the apple of his father’s eye, joined -the Maquis; was killed fighting the Nazis. René Blum was the victim of -Nazi persecution.</p> - -<p>Let us look for a moment at the background of Blum’s ballet -collaborator. The “Colonel” was born Vassily Grigorievitch Voskresensky. -In his native <i>milieu</i> he had some sort of police-military career. -Although he insisted on the title “Colonel,” he certainly never attained -that rank in the Tsar’s army. He was a lieutenant in the <i>Gendarmes</i>. -After the revolution, in 1918, he turned up as a captain with -Bicherakoff’s Cossacks. Later on he turned naval and operated in the -Black Sea.</p> - -<p>There is an interval in de Basil’s life that has never been entirely -filled in with complete accuracy: the period immediately following his -flight and escape from Russia. The most credible of the legends -surrounding this period is that he sold motor-cars in Italy. Eventually, -he turned up in Paris, where my trail picked him up at a concert agency -called <i>Zerbaseff</i>, which concerned itself with finding jobs for refugee -artists. It was then he called himself de Basil.</p> - -<p>At the time I met him, he had a Caucasian partner, the Prince Zeretelli -whom I have mentioned, and who was a one-time manager<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_109">{109}</a></span> of the People’s -Theatre, in St. Petersburg. It was this partnership that brought forth -the <i>Ballet and Opéra Russe de Paris</i>, which gave seasons at the -<i>Théâtre des Champs Elysées</i>, in Paris, and, as I have mentioned, at the -Lyceum Theatre, in London.</p> - -<p>Let me first set down the man’s virtues. De Basil had great charm. By -that I do not necessarily mean he was charming. His charm was something -he could turn on at will, like a tap, usually when he was in a tight -spot. More than once it helped him out of deep holes, and sticky ones. -He had an inexhaustible fount of energy, could drive himself and others; -never seemed to need sleep; and, aiming at a highly desired personal -goal, had unending patience. With true oriental passivity, he could -wait. He had undaunted courage; needless, reckless courage, in my -opinion; a stupid courage compounded often out of equal parts of -stubbornness and sheer bravado. He was a born organizer. He intuitively -possessed a flair for the theatre: a flair without knowledge. He could -be an excellent host; he was a <i>cordon bleu</i> cook. He was generous, he -was simple in his tastes.</p> - -<p>Yet, with all these virtues, de Basil was, at the same time, one of the -most difficult human beings I have ever encountered in a lifetime of -management. This tall, gaunt, cadaver of a man had a powerful physique, -a dead-pan face, and a pair of cold, astigmatic eyes, before which -rested thick-lensed spectacles. He had all the makings of a dictator. -Like his countryman, Joseph Stalin, he was completely impossible as a -collaborator. He was a born intriguer, and delighted in surrounding -himself with scheming characters. During my career I have met scheming -characters who, nevertheless, have had certain positive virtues: they -succeeded in getting things done. De Basil’s scheming characters -consisted of lawyers, hacks, amateur managers, brokers, without -exception third-rate people who damaged and destroyed.</p> - -<p>It would be an act of great injustice to call de Basil stupid. He was as -shrewd an article as one could expect to meet amongst all the lads who -have tried to sell the unwary stranger the Brooklyn Bridge, the Capitol -at Washington, or the Houses of Parliament.</p> - -<p>De Basil deliberately engaged this motley crew of hangers-on, since his -Caucasian Machiavellism was such that he loved to pit them one against -the other, to use them to build up an operetta atmosphere of cheap -intrigue that I felt sure had not hitherto existed save in the Graustark -type of fiction. De Basil used them<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_110">{110}</a></span> to irritate and annoy. He would -dispatch them abroad in his company simply to stir up trouble, to form -cliques: for purposes of <i>chantage</i>; he would order them into whispered -colloquies in corners, alternately wearing knowing looks and glum -visages. De Basil and his entire entourage lived in a world of intrigue -of their own deliberate making. His fussy, busy little cohorts cost him -money he did not have, and raised such continuous hell that the wonder -is the company held together as long as it did.</p> - -<p>De Basil’s unholy joy would come from creating, through these henchmen, -a nasty situation and then stepping in to pull a string here, jerk a -cord there, he would save the situation, thus becoming the hero of the -moment.</p> - -<p>I shall have more to say on the subject of the “Colonel” before this -tale is told.</p> - -<p>Now, with the contracts signed for the first American visit, we were on -our honeymoon. Meanwhile, however, the picture of what I had agreed to -bring was changing. Leonide Massine, his stint at the Roxy Theatre in -New York completed, had met a former Broadway manager, E. Ray Goetz. -Together they had succeeded in raising some money and planned with it to -buy the entire Diaghileff properties. With this stock in hand, Massine -caught up with de Basil, who was barnstorming through the Low Countries -with his company in trucks and buses; and the two of them pooled -resources. Although Massine’s purchase plan did not go through entirely, -because much of the Diaghileff material had disappeared through lawsuits -and other claims, nevertheless Massine was able to deliver a sizable -portion of it.</p> - -<p>As the direct result of Massine’s appointment as artistic director, a -number of things happened. First of all, Balanchine quit, and formed a -short-lived company in France, <i>Les Ballets 1933</i>, the history of which -is not germane to this story. Before he left, however, Balanchine had -created three works for the de Basil-Blum Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo: -<i>La Concurrence</i>, <i>Le Cotillon</i>, and <i>Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme</i>. -Massine, as his first task, staged <i>Jeux d’Enfants</i> and <i>Les Plages</i>; -restaged three of his earlier works, <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i>, <i>Le Beau -Danube</i> and <i>Scuola di Ballo</i>; and the first of his epoch-making -symphonic ballets, <i>Les Présages</i>, to Tchaikowsky’s Fifth Symphony. -These were combined with a number of older works from the Diaghileff -repertoire, including the three Fokine masterpieces: <i>Les Sylphides</i>, -<i>Prince Igor</i>, and <i>Petroushka</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_111">{111}</a></span></p> - -<p>Massine had strengthened the company. There were the former Diaghileff -<i>régisseur general</i>, Serge Grigorieff, of long memory, as stage -director; his wife, Lubov Tchernicheva, a leading Diaghileff figure, for -dramatic roles; the last Diaghileff <i>ballerina</i>, Alexandra Danilova, to -give stability to the three “baby ballerinas”: Baronova, Toumanova, and -Tatiana Riabouchinska, the last from Kchessinska’s private studio, by -way of Nikita Balieff’s <i>Chauve Souris</i>, where she had been dancing. -There was the intriguing Nina Verchinina, a “different” type of dancer. -There were talented lesser ladies: Eugenia Delarova, Lubov Rostova; a -group of English girls masquerading under Russian names. Among the men, -in addition to Massine, there were Leon Woizikovsky, David Lichine, -Roman Jasinsky, Paul Petroff, Yurek Shabalevsky, and André Eglevsky.</p> - -<p>A successful breaking-in season was given at the Alhambra Theatre, in -London’s Leicester Square. While this was in progress, we set about at -the most necessary and vastly important business of trying to build a -public for ballet in America, for this is a ballet impresario’s first -job. That original publicity campaign was, in its way, history-making. -It took a considerable bit of organizing. No field was overlooked. In -addition to spreading the gospel of ballet, there was a Sponsors’ -Committee, headed by the Grand Duchess Marie and Otto H. Kahn. Prince -Serge Obolensky was an ever-present source of help.</p> - -<p>It was a chilly and fairly raw December morning in 1933 when I clambered -aboard the cutter at the Battery, to go down the Bay to board the ship -at Quarantine. It is a morning I shall not soon forget. I was in ballet -up to my neck; and I loved it. There have been days and nights in the -succeeding two decades when I have seriously played with the notion of -what life might have been like if I had not gone aboard (and overboard) -that December morning.</p> - -<p>I took with me the traditional Russian welcome: a tray of bread, wrapped -in a white linen serviette, a little bowl of salt, which I offered to de -Basil. I was careful to see that the reporters and camera men were in -place when I did it. De Basil’s poker-face actually smiled as I handed -him the tray, uncovered the bread, poured the salt. But only for a -moment. A Russian word in greeting, and then there was an immediate -demand from him to see the theatre. We were on our way. Driving uptown -to the St. James Theatre, the arguments commenced. There was the matter -of the programme. There was the matter of the size of de Basil’s name; -the question of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_112">{112}</a></span> the relative size of the artists’ names; the type-face; -the order in which they should be listed; what was to become the -everlasting arguments over repertoire and casting. But I was in it, now.</p> - -<p>I believed in the “star” system—not because I believe the system to be -a perfect one, by any means, but because the American public, which had -been without any major ballet company for eight years, and which had had -practically no ballet activity, had to be attracted and arrested by -something more than an unknown and heretofore unheard-of company and the -photograph of a not particularly photogenic ex-Cossack.</p> - -<p>The pre-Christmas <i>première</i> at the St. James Theatre, on the night of -21st December, marked the beginning of a new epoch in ballet, and in my -career. It was going to be a long pull, an uphill struggle. I knew that. -The opening night audience was brilliant; the house was packed, -enthusiastic. But the advance sale at the box-office was anything but -encouraging. Diaghileff had failed in America. The losses of his two -seasons, paid for by Otto H. Kahn, ran close to a half-million dollars. -I was on my own. Since readers are as human as I am, perhaps they will -forgive my pardonable pride, the pride I felt sixteen years later, on -reading the historian George Amberg’s comment: “If it had not been for -Mr. Hurok’s resourceful management and promotion, de Basil would -certainly not have succeeded where Diaghileff failed.”</p> - -<p>But I am anticipating. The opening programme consisted of <i>La -Concurrence</i>, <i>Les Présages</i>, and <i>Le Beau Danube</i>. Toumanova in the -first; Baronova and Lichine in the second; Massine, Danilova, and -Riabouchinska in the third. It was a night. The next day’s press was -excellent. It was John Martin, with what I felt was an anti-Diaghileff -bias, who offered some reservations.</p> - -<p>Following the opening performance, I gave the first of my many ballet -suppers, this one at the Savoy-Plaza. It was very gala. The Sponsors’ -Committee turned up <i>en masse</i>. White-gloved waiters served, among other -things, super hot dogs, as a native gesture to the visitors from -overseas. The “baby ballerinas” looked as if they should have been in -bed. That is, two of them did. One of them was missing, and there was -some concern as to what could have happened to Tamara Toumanova. -However, there was no necessity for concern for Tamara, since she, with -her sense of the theatre, the theatrical, and the main chance, made a -late and quite theatrical entry, with Paul D. Cravath on one arm and -Otto H. Kahn on the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_113">{113}</a></span> other. The new era in ballet was inaugurated by -these two distinguished gentlemen and patrons of the arts sipping -champagne from a ballet slipper especially made for the occasion by a -leading Fifth Avenue bootmaker.</p> - -<p>The opening a matter of history, the publicity department went into -action at double the record-breaking pace at which they had been -functioning for weeks. The resulting press coverage was overwhelming and -national.</p> - -<p>But, however gratifying all this may have been, I had my troubles, and -they increased daily. The publicity simply could not please all the -people all the time. I mean the ballet people, of course. There was -always the eternally dissatisfied de Basil. In addition, there were -three fathers, nineteen mothers, and one sister-in-law to be satisfied. -Then there were daily casting problems. The publicity department was -giving the press what it wanted: feature stories on ballet, on artists, -on the daily life of the dancer. It was then de Basil determined that -all publicity must be centered on his own august person. He had a point -of view, I must admit. Dancers were here today, gone tomorrow. De Basil -and his ballet remained. But no newspaper is interested in running -repeated photographs of a dour, bespectacled male. They wanted “leg -art.” When de Basil insisted that he be photographed, the camera men -would “shoot” him with a filmless or plateless camera.</p> - -<p>In addition to having to contend with what threatened to become a -chronic and incurable case of Basildiaghileffitis, I was losing a potful -of money. The St. James Theatre is no better than any other Broadway -house as a home for ballet. The stage is far too small either to display -the décor or to permit dancers to move freely. The auditorium, even if -filled to capacity, cannot meet ballet expenses. We were not playing to -anything like capacity. There was a tour booked; but, thanks to a “stop -clause” in the theatre contract—a figure above which the attraction -must continue at the theatre—we could not leave. We had made the “stop -clause” too low. There was only one thing to do in order to protect the -tour. I decided to divide the company into two companies.</p> - -<p>Forced to fulfil two sets of obligations at the end of the first month -at the St. James Theatre, I opened a tour in Reading, Pennsylvania, with -Massine, Danilova, Toumanova, the larger part of the <i>corps de ballet</i>, -Efrem Kurtz conducting the orchestra, and all of the ballets in the -repertoire except three.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_114">{114}</a></span></p> - -<p>The company remaining at the St. James had Baronova, Riabouchinska, -Lichine, and Woizikovsky, with the corps augmented by New York dancers, -and Antal Dorati as conductor. This company gave eight performances -weekly of the Fokine masterpieces, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Petroushka</i>, and -<i>Prince Igor</i>. The steadily increasing public did not seem to mind.</p> - -<p>The response on the road and in New York was surprisingly good. When we -finally left New York, the two groups merged, and we played a second -Chicago engagement, at the marvellous old Auditorium Theatre. All were -there, save for Grigorieff, Alexandra Danilova, and Dorati, who returned -to Monte Carlo to fulfil de Basil’s contract with Blum for a spring -season in Monaco.</p> - -<p>There was a brief spring season in New York, preceded by a week at the -Forrest Theatre in Philadelphia, where Massine’s first “American” ballet -had its dress rehearsals and first performances. This was <i>Union -Pacific</i>, a four-scened work in which Massine had the collaboration of -the distinguished American poet, Archibald MacLeish, on the story; -Albert Johnson, on the settings; Irene Sharaff, with costumes; and a -score, based on American folk-tunes, by Nicholas Nabokoff. It was the -first Russian ballet attempt to deal with the native American scene and -material, treating the theme of the building of the first -transcontinental railway.</p> - -<p>We gave its first performance on the night of April 6, 1934, and the -cast included Massine himself, his wife Eugenia Delarova, Irina -Baronova, Sono Osato, David Lichine, and André Eglevsky, in the central -roles.</p> - -<p>It was Massine’s prodigious Barman’s dance that proved to be the -highlight of the work.</p> - -<p>The balance of the company eventually returned to Europe for their -summer seasons in London and Paris, and to stage new productions. Back -they came in the autumn for another tour. The problem of a proper -theatre for ballet in New York had not been solved; so I took the -company from Europe to Mexico City for an engagement at the newly -remodeled Palacio des Bellas Artes. There were problems galore. Once -again I fell back on my right-hand-bower, Mae Frohman, rushed her to -Mexico to clear them. Back from Mexico by boat to New York, with a -hurried transfer for trains to Toronto, and a long coast-to-coast tour. -The New York engagement that season was brief: five performances only. -The only theatre available was the Majestic, whose stage is no less -cramped, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_115">{115}</a></span> whose auditorium provides no illusion. During this brief -season a new work by Massine was presented: <i>Jardin Public</i> (<i>Public -Garden</i>). It was based on a fragment from André Gide’s <i>The -Counterfeiters</i>, in a scenario by Massine and Vladimir Dukelsky (Vernon -Duke) who supplied the music. It was not one of Massine’s most -successful works by any means. But the <i>première</i> did provide an amusing -incident. Danilova was cast as a wealthy woman; Massine and Toumanova as -The Poor Couple. On the opening night, Danilova, who showed her wealthy -status by dancing a particularly lively rhumba, lost her underpants -while dancing in the center of the stage. The contretemps she carried -off with great aplomb. But, on her exit, she did not carry off the -underwear, which remained in the center of the stage as a large colored -blob. Danilova’s exit was followed by the entrance of Toumanova and -Massine, clad in rags as befitted The Poor Couple. Toumanova, fixing her -eyes on the offending lingerie, picked it up, examined it critically, -and then, as if it were something from the nether world and quite -unspeakable, dramatically hurled it off-stage in an attitude of utter -disgust, as if it were a symbol of the thing she most detested: wealth.</p> - -<p>Although the five performances were sold out, we could not cover our -expenses. In the autumn of 1935, when the company returned for its third -season, we were able to bring Ballet to the Metropolitan Opera House -and, for the first time since its rebirth in America, the public really -saw it at its best.</p> - -<p>During this time we had made substantial additions to the repertoire: -Massine’s second and third symphonic ballets, the Brahms <i>Choreartium</i>, -and the Berlioz <i>Symphonie Fantastique</i>; Nijinska’s <i>The Hundred -Kisses</i>. In addition to Fokine’s new non-operatic version of <i>Le Coq -d’Or</i>, which I have mentioned, there were added Fokine’s <i>Schéhérazade</i>, -<i>The Afternoon of a Faun</i>, and Nijinsky’s <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>.</p> - -<p>The gross takings of the fourth American season of the de Basil company -reached round a million dollars.</p> - -<p>By this time matters were coming to a head. All was not, by any means, -well in ballet. Massine, by this time, was at swords’ points with de -Basil. I was irritated, bored, fatigued, worn out with him and his -entourage. Since de Basil had lost his Monte Carlo connection, he had -also lost touch with the artistic thought that had served as a stimulus -to creation.</p> - -<p>It is necessary for me to make another digression at this point.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_116">{116}</a></span> The -opening chapter of the New Testament is, as the reader will remember, a -geneological one, with a formidable list of “begats.” It seems to me the -course of wisdom to try to clear up, if I can, the “begats” of Russian -Ballet since the day on which I first allied myself with it. I shall try -to disentangle them for the sake of the reader’s better understanding. -There were so many similar names, artists moving from one company to -another, ballets appearing in the repertoires of more than one -organization.</p> - -<p>In this saga, I have called this chapter “W. de Basil and his Ballets -Russes de Monte Carlo.” It is a convenient handle. The confusion that -was so characteristic of the man de Basil, was intensified by the fact -that the “Colonel” changed the name of the company at least a half-dozen -times during our association. To attempt to go into all the involved -reasons for these chameleon-like changes would simply add to the -confusion, and would, I feel, be boring. Let me, for the sake of -conciseness and, I hope, the reader’s illumination, list the six -changes:</p> - -<p>In 1932, it was <i>Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo</i>.</p> - -<p>From 1933 to 1936, it was <i>Monte Carlo Ballet Russe</i>.</p> - -<p>In 1937, it was <i>Colonel W. de Basil’s Ballet Russe</i>.</p> - -<p>In 1938, it was <i>Covent Garden Ballet Russe</i>.</p> - -<p>In 1939, it was <i>Educational Ballets</i>, Ltd.</p> - -<p>From 1940 until its demise, it was <i>Original Ballet Russe</i>.</p> - -<p>I have said earlier that the alliance between René Blum and de Basil was -foredoomed to failure. The split between them came in 1936, both as a -result of incompatibility and of de Basil’s preoccupation with the -United States to the exclusion of any Monte Carlo interest. Blum had a -greater interest in Monte Carlo, with which, to be sure, he had a -contract. So it was not surprising that René Blum organized a new Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo, with Michel Fokine as choreographer.</p> - -<p>De Basil and his methods became increasingly aggravating. His chicanery, -his eternal battling, above all, his overweening obsession about the -size of his name in the display advertising, were sometimes almost -unbearable. He carried a pocket-rule with him and would go about cities -measuring the words “Col. W. de Basil.” Now electric light letters vary -in size in the various cities, and there is no way of changing them -without having new letters made or purchased at considerable expense and -trouble. I remember a scene in Detroit, where de Basil became so -obnoxious that the company<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_117">{117}</a></span> manager and I climbed to the roof of the -theatre and took down the sign with our own hands, in order to save us -from further annoyance that day.</p> - -<p>All of this accumulated irritation added up to an increasing conviction -that life was too short to continue this sort of thing indefinitely, -despite my love for and my interest and faith in ballet both as an art -and as a popular form of entertainment.</p> - -<p>As I have said, Leonide Massine’s difficulties and relations with de -Basil were becoming so strained that each performance became an ordeal. -I never knew when an explosion might occur. There were many points of -difference between Massine and de Basil. The chief bone of contention -was the matter of artistic direction. Massine’s contract with de Basil -was approaching its expiration date. De Basil was badgering him to sign -a new one. Massine steadfastly refused to negotiate unless de Basil -would assure him, in the contract, the title and powers of Artistic -Director. De Basil as steadfastly refused, and insisted on retaining the -powers of artistic direction for himself.</p> - -<p>There was, as is always the case in Russian Ballet, a good deal of -side-taking. Granted that, for his purposes, de Basil’s insistence on -keeping all controls over his company in his own hands, had a point. But -let us also regard the issue from the point of view of ability and -knowledge, the prime qualifications for the post. From the portrait I -have given, the reader will gather the extent of the “Colonel’s” -qualifications. This would seem to be the time and place for a sketch of -Leonide Massine, as I know him.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>One day there must be a book written about Massine. Not that there is -not already a considerable literature dealing with him; but there is yet -to appear a work that has done him anything like justice. For me to -attempt more than a line drawing would be presumptuous and manifestly -unjust; but a sketch is demanded.</p> - -<p>Leonide Massine was born in Moscow in 1894. He graduated from the Moscow -Imperial School in 1912. It was a year later that Diaghileff, visiting -Moscow, was taken by Poliakov, the famous Moscow dramatic critic, to see -a play at the Ostrovsky Theatre. It happened that Massine was appearing -in the play in the role of a servant. There is no record as to what -Diaghileff thought of the play or the performance. The one fact that -emerges from this chance evening Diaghileff spent at a theatre is that -he was impressed by the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_118">{118}</a></span> manner in which the unknown boy, Massine, -carried a tray. Diaghileff asked Poliakov to take him back-stage and -introduce him to the talented young mime.</p> - -<p>Artistically, Diaghileff was in the process of moving onward from the -exclusively Russian tradition that was represented by Benois, Bakst, -Stravinsky, and Fokine. He was moving towards a greater -internationalism, a broader cosmopolitanism. He was in need of a -creative personality who would carry forward this wider concept. -Diaghileff’s intuition told him this seventeen-year-old boy with the -enormous brown eyes was the person. Diaghileff took Massine from Moscow -into his company and fashioned him into a present-day Pygmalion. -Diaghileff took over the boy’s artistic education. As part of a -deliberate plan, Diaghileff pushed a willing pupil into close contact -with the world of modern painting and music, with the finest minds of -the period. Picasso, Larionov, Stravinsky, and de Falla became his -mentors; libraries, museums, concert halls, his classrooms. The result -was a great cosmopolitan choreographer, perhaps the greatest living -today.</p> - -<p>An American citizen, he will always have strong Russian roots. Some of -his best works are Russian ballets; but he is no slavish nationalist. He -is as much at home in the cultures of Italy, Scotland, or Spain. His was -a precocious genius, discovered by Diaghileff’s intuition. Massine began -at the top, and has remained there.</p> - -<p>Massine is difficult to know, for he is shy, and he has a great wall of -natural reserve that takes a long time to penetrate. Once penetrated, it -is possible to experience one of life’s greater satisfactions in the -conversation, the intelligence, the knowledge of the mature Massine. -Massine’s poise and sense of order never leave him. There is a -meticulousness about him and a neatness that indicate the possession of -an orderly mind. Everything he reads which he feels may be of even the -slightest value to him at some future time, he preserves in large -clipping-books. About him is a calm that is exceptional in a Russian—a -calm that is exceptional in any one associated with the dance, where the -habit is to shout as loudly as possible at the slightest provocation, or -no provocation at all, and to become violently excited and agitated over -the most unimportant things. There is about him none of the superficial -“temperament” too often assumed to be the prerogative of artists. He has -a sharp sense of humor; but it is a sense of humor that is keen and dry. -His wit can be sharp and extremely cutting. He has not always been<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_119">{119}</a></span> -loved by his associates; but very few of them have ever really known -him.</p> - -<p>Filled with fire, energy, enthusiasm, his constant desire is to build -something better.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, he still dances, as no one else, the Miller in <i>The -Three-Cornered Hat</i> and the Can Can Dancer in <i>La Boutique Fantasque</i>. -Personally, I prefer only Massine in the roles he has created for -himself. No other dancer can approach him in these.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned his long sojourn at the Roxy Theatre, in New York. -Under the conditions imposed—a new work to be staged weekly, to dance -four times a day—masterpieces were obviously impossible; but the work -he did was of vast importance in building a dance public in New York.</p> - -<p>There are those today who chide Massine for his all too frequent -re-creations of his old pieces, and lay it to Massine’s obsession with -money. It is true, Massine does have a concern for money. But, after -all, he has a wife, two growing children, and other responsibilities. -However, I do not believe finance is the sole reason, and I, for one, -wish he would not be eternally reproducing his old works. <i>Le Beau -Danube</i> will live forever as one of the finest <i>genre</i> works of all -time. But it must be properly done. I remember, to my sorrow, seeing a -recent production of the <i>Danube</i> Massine staged in Paris, with Roland -Petit—with a company of only fourteen dancers. Further comment is not -required.</p> - -<p>I have a deep and abiding affection for Leonide Massine as a person—an -affection that is very deep and real. As an artist, I believe he is -still the greatest individual personality in ballet today—a -choreographer of deep knowledge, imagination, and ability.</p> - -<p>The composer of some sixty-odd ballets, it is the most imposing record -in modern ballet’s history, perfectly amazing productivity. No one but -himself is capable of restoring them. When produced or restaged without -his fine hand, they are a shambles.</p> - -<p>I should like to offer my friend, Leonide Massine, a hope that springs -from my heart. I can only urge him, for his own good and for the good of -ballet which needs him, to rest for a time on his beautiful island in -the Mediterranean and to spend the time there in study and reflection, -crystallizing his ideas. Then he will bring to us new and striking -creations that will come like a refreshing breeze clearing the murky -atmosphere of much of our contemporary ballet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_120">{120}</a></span> scene. If Massine would -only relax his constant drive and follow my suggestion, the real Massine -would emerge.</p> - -<p>After a summer on his island, he gave us one of his most recent -creations (1952), an Umbrian Passion Play, <i>Laudes Evangelli</i>, to -religious music of the Middle Ages. An interesting side-light on it is -that the very first ballet he had in mind at the beginning of the -Diaghileff association was based on the same idea.</p> - -<p>At the height of his maturity, there is no indication of age in Massine. -Age, after all, is merely a question of how old one feels. I remember, -in the later days of his ballet, shortly before his death, Diaghileff -was planning a special gala performance. At a conference of his staff, -he suggested inviting Pavlova to appear. Some of his advisers countered -the proposal with the suggestion that Pavlova was too old. My reply was -brief and to the point.</p> - -<p>“Pavlova will never age,” I said. “Some people are old at twenty. But -Pavlova, never; for genius never looks at the calendar.”</p> - -<p>What was true of Pavlova, is equally true of Leonide Massine.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>The growth, the development, and the appreciation of ballet in America -are the result of a number of things, both individually and in -combination. There may exist a variety of opinions on the subject, but -one thing, I know, is certain: the present state of ballet in America is -not the result of chance. In 1933 I had signed a contract with de Basil -to bring ballet to America; yet there was an element of chance involved -in that my publicity director, vacationing in Europe, saw a performance -of the de Basil company, and spontaneously cabled me an expression of -his enthusiasm. Since this employee was not a balletomane in any sense -of the word, his message served to intensify my conviction that then was -the time to go forward with my determination to follow my intuition. -Here ends any element of chance.</p> - -<p>The basic repertoire of the first years was an extension of the -Diaghileff artistic policies. The repertoire included not only revivals -from the Diaghileff repertoire, but also new, forward-looking creations. -I was certain that a sound and orthodox repertoire was an essential for -establishing a genuine ballet audience in this country.</p> - -<p>In 1933, there was no ballet audience. It was something that had to be -created and developed through every medium possible. I had a two-fold -responsibility—because I loved ballet with a love that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_121">{121}</a></span> amounted to a -passion, and because I had a tremendous financial burden which I carried -single-handed, without the aid of any Maecenas; I had to make ballet -successful; in doing so, willy-nilly I had the responsibility of forming -a taste where no aesthetic existed.</p> - -<p>For two decades I have had criticism levelled at me from certain places, -criticism directed chiefly at my policies in ballet; I have been -criticized for my insistence on certain types of ballets in the -repertoires of the companies I have managed, and for my belief in -adaptations and varying applications of what is known as the “star” -system. The only possible answer is that I have been proven right. No -other system has succeeded in bringing people to ballet or in bringing -ballet to the people.</p> - -<p>It will not be out of place at this time to note the repertoire of the -de Basil company at the time of the breakdown of the relations between -Massine and de Basil, which may be said to be the period of the Massine -artistic direction and influence on the de Basil companies, from 1933 to -1937.</p> - -<p>There were, if my computation is correct, and I have checked the matter -with some care, a total of forty works, with thirty-four of them -actively in the repertoire. Of these, there were two sound classics -stemming from the Imperial Russian Ballet, creations by Marius Petipa -and Lev Ivanoff: <i>Swan Lake</i>, in the one-act abbreviation; and <i>Aurora’s -Wedding</i>, the last <i>divertissement</i> act of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> or <i>The -Sleeping Princess</i>, both, of course, to the music of Tchaikowsky. There -were three Russian works, i.e., ballets on Russian subjects: -Stravinsky’s <i>Petroushka</i>; the <i>Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor</i>; and -<i>Le Coq d’Or</i>, a purely balletic and entertaining spectacle, with the -Rimsky-Korsakoff music rearranged for ballet by Tcherepnine. All of the -foregoing were by Michel Fokine. Eight other Fokine works were included, -all originally produced by him for Diaghileff: three, which might be -called exotic works—<i>Cléopâtre</i>, to the music of Arensky and others; -<i>Thamar</i>, to the music of Balakireff; and <i>Schéhérazade</i>, to the -Rimsky-Korsakoff tone-poem. Five ballets typifying the Romantic -Revolution: Stravinsky’s <i>Firebird</i>; <i>Carnaval</i> and <i>Papillons</i>, both by -Robert Schumann; <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>, to the familiar Weber score; -that greatest of all romantic works, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, the Chopin -“romantic reverie.”</p> - -<p>There were two works by George Balanchine: <i>Le Cotillon</i> and <i>La -Concurrence</i>, the former to music by Chabrier, the latter to music by -Auric. A third Balanchine work, <i>Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme</i>, was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_122">{122}</a></span> -necessarily dropped from the repertoire because the costumes were -destroyed by fire.</p> - -<p>The largest contributor by far to the de Basil repertoire was Massine -himself. No less than seventeen of the thirty-four works regularly -presented, that is, fifty per-cent, were by this prodigious creator. -Eight of these were originally staged by Massine for Diaghileff; two -were revivals of works he produced for Count Etienne de Beaumont, in -Paris, in 1932. Seven were original creations for the de Basil company. -The Diaghileff creations, in revival—in the order of their first -making—were: <i>The Midnight Sun</i>, to music from Rimsky-Korsakoff’s <i>The -Snow Maiden</i>; <i>Russian Folk Tales</i>, music by Liadov; The <i>Good-Humored -Ladies</i>, to the Scarlatti-Tommasini score; Manuel de Falla’s <i>The -Three-Cornered Hat</i>; <i>The Fantastic Toyshop</i>, to Rossini melodies; -George Auric’s <i>Les Matelots: Cimarosiana</i>; Vittorio Rieti’s <i>The Ball</i>.</p> - -<p>The two Beaumont works: <i>Le Beau Danube</i>, and the Boccherini <i>Scuola di -Ballo</i>.</p> - -<p>The creations for the de Basil company: the three symphonic -ballets—<i>Les Présages</i>, (Tchaikowsky’s Fifth); <i>Choreartium</i>, (Brahms’s -Fourth); <i>La Symphonie Fantastique</i>, (Berlioz). Also <i>Children’s Games</i> -(Bizet); <i>Beach</i> (Jean Francaix); <i>Union Pacific</i> (Nicholas Nabokoff); -and <i>Jardin Public</i> (Dukelsky).</p> - -<p>Two other choreographers round out the list. The young David Lichine -contributed four; Bronislava Nijinska, two. The Lichine works: -Tchaikowsky’s <i>Francesca da Rimini</i> and <i>La Pavillon</i>, to Borodin’s -music for strings, arranged by Antal Dorati. The others, produced in -Europe, were so unsuccessful I could not bring them to America: -<i>Nocturne</i>, a slight work utilising some of Mendelssohn’s <i>Midsummer -Night’s Dream</i> music, and <i>Les Imaginaires</i>, to a score by George Auric.</p> - -<p>The Nijinska works: <i>The Hundred Kisses</i>, to a commissioned score by -Baron Frederic d’Erlanger; the <i>Danses Slaves et Tsiganes</i>, from the -Dargomijhky opera <i>Roussalka</i>; and a revival of that great -Stravinsky-Nijinska work, <i>Les Noces</i>, which, for practical reasons, I -was able to give only at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York.</p> - -<p>The following painters and designers collaborated on the scenery and -costumes: Oliver Messel, Cecil Beaton, Etienne de Beaumont, Nathalie -Gontcharova, Korovin, Pierre Hugo, Jean Lurçat, Albert Johnson, Irene -Sharaff, Eugene Lourie, Raoul Dufy, André Masson, Joan Miro, Polunin, -Chirico, José Maria Sert, Pruna,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_123">{123}</a></span> André Derain, Picasso, Bakst, -Larionoff, Alexandre Benois, Nicholas Roerich, Mstislav Doboujinsky.</p> - -<p>For the sake of the record, as the company recedes into the mists of -time, let me list its chief personnel during this period: Leonide -Massine, ballet-master and chief male dancer; Alexandra Danilova, Irina -Baronova, Tamara Toumanova, Tatiana Riabouchinska, <i>ballerinas</i>; Lubov -Tchernicheva, Olga Morosova, Nina Verchinina, Lubov Rostova, Tamara -Grigorieva, Eugenia Delarova, Vera Zorina, Sono Osato, Leon Woizikovsky, -David Lichine, Yurek Shabalevsky, Paul Petroff, André Eglevsky, and -Roman Jasinsky, soloists; Serge Grigorieff, <i>régisseur</i>.</p> - -<p>In our spreading of the gospel of ballet, emphasis was laid on the -following: Ballet, repertoire, personnel. Since there were no “stars” -whose names at the time carried any box-office weight or had any -recognizable association, the concentration was on the “baby -ballerinas,” Baronova, Toumanova, Riabouchinska, all of whom were young -dancers of fine training and exceptional talents. They grew as artists -before our eyes. They also grew up. They had an unparalleled success. -They also had their imperfections, but it was a satisfaction to watch -their progress.</p> - -<p>Ballet was by way of being established in America’s cultural and -entertainment life by the end of the fourth de Basil season. On the -financial side, that fourth season’s gross business passed the million -dollar mark; artistically, deterioration had set in. With the feud -between Massine and de Basil irreconcilable, there was no sound artistic -policy possible, no authoritative direction. The situation was as if two -rival directors would have stood on either side of the proscenium arch, -one countermanding every order given by the other. The personnel of the -company was lining up in support of one or the other; factionism was -rampant. Performances suffered.</p> - -<p>Massine, meanwhile realizing the hopelessness of the situation so far as -he was concerned, cast about for possible interested backers in a -balletic venture of his own, where he could exercise his own talents and -authority. He succeeded in interesting a number of highly solvent ballet -lovers, chief among whom was Julius Fleischmann, of Cincinnati.</p> - -<p>Just what Fleischmann’s interest in ballet may have been, or what -prompted it, I have not been able to determine. At any rate, it was a -fresh, new interest. A man of culture and sensitivity, he was something -of a dilettante and a cosmopolitan. When he was at<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_124">{124}</a></span> home, it was on his -estate in Cincinnati. His business interests, i.e., the sources that -provided him with the means to pursue his artistic occupations, required -no attention on his part.</p> - -<p>Together with other persons of means and leisure, a corporation was -formed under the name Universal Art. The corporation turned over the -artistic direction, both in name and fact, to Massine, and he was on his -own to choose the policy, the repertoire, and the personnel for a new -company.</p> - -<p>Ballet in America was on the horns of a dilemma. And so was I.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_125">{125}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_8">8.</a> Revolution and Counter-revolution: Leonide Massine and the New Ballet Russe De Monte Carlo</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span><b>N</b> order that the reader may have a sense of continuity, I feel he -should be supplied with a bit of the background and a brief fill-in on -what had been happening meanwhile at Monte Carlo.</p> - -<p>I have pointed out that de Basil’s preoccupation with London and America -had soon left his collaborator, René Blum, without a ballet company with -which to fulfil his contractual obligations to the Principality of -Monaco. The break between the two came in 1936, when Blum formed a new -company that he called simply Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo.</p> - -<p>Blum had the great wisdom and fine taste to engage Michel Fokine as -choreographer. A company, substantial in size, had been engaged, the -leading personnel numbering among its principals some fine dancers known -to American audiences. Nana Gollner, the American <i>ballerina</i>, was one -of the leading figures. Others included Vera Nemtchinova, Natalie -Krassovska, Anatole Ouboukhoff, Anatole Vilzak, Jean Yasvinsky, André -Eglevsky, and Michel Panaieff. A repertoire, sparked by Fokine -creations, was in the making.</p> - -<p>Back in America, the prime mover in the financial organization of the -new Massine company was Sergei I. Denham. It is hardly<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_126">{126}</a></span> necessary to add -that Denham and de Basil had little in common or that they were, in -fact, arch-enemies.</p> - -<p>Denham had no more previous knowledge of or association with ballet than -de Basil; actually much less. I have been unable to discover the real -source of Denham’s interest in ballet. Born Sergei Ivanovich -Dokouchaieff, in Russia, the son of a merchant, he had escaped the -Revolution by way of China. His career in the United States, before -ballet in the persons of Leonide Massine and Julius Fleischmann swam -into his ken, had been of a mercantile nature, in one business venture -or another, including a stint as an automobile salesman, and another as -a sort of bank manager, none of them connected with the arts, but all of -them bringing him into fringe relations with the substantially solvent.</p> - -<p>No sooner did he find himself in the atmosphere of ballet than he, too, -became infected with Diaghileffitis, a disease that, apparently, attacks -them all, sooner or later.</p> - -<p>It is one of the strange phenomena of ballet I have never been able to -understand. Why is it, I ask myself, that a former merchant, an -ex-policeman, or an heir to carpet factory fortunes, for some reason all -gravitate to ballet, to create and perpetuate “hobby” businesses? I have -not yet discovered the answer. As in the case of Denham, so with the -others. Lacking knowledge or trained taste, people like these no sooner -find themselves in ballet than down they come with the Diaghileffitis -attack.</p> - -<p>Russian intrigue quickened its tempo, increased its intensity. Denham, -with the smooth, soft suavity of a born organizer, drove about the -country in his battered little car, often accompanied by his niece, -Tatiana Orlova, who was later to become the fourth Mrs. Massine, -ostensibly to try to attract more backers, more money. More often than -not, he followed the exact itinerary of the de Basil tour. Then he would -insinuate himself back-stage, place a chair for himself in the wings -during the performances of the de Basil company, and there negotiate -with dancers in an effort to get them to leave de Basil and join the new -company. At the same time, he would exhibit what can only be described -as a deplorable rudeness to de Basil, whose company it was.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, de Basil increased and intensified his machinations -to try to induce me to again sign with him. Not only did he step up his -own personal barrage, but the intrigues of his associates were deepened. -These associates were now three in number. Russian intrigue was having -an extended field day. On the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_127">{127}</a></span> one hand, there was Denham intriguing for -all he was worth against de Basil. On the other, de Basil’s three -henchmen were intriguing against Denham, against me, against each other, -and, I suspect, against de Basil. It was a sorry spectacle.</p> - -<p>It was the sort of thing you come upon in tales of Balkan intrigue. The -cast of this one included a smooth and suave Russian ex-merchant, bland -and crafty, easy of smile, oozing “culture,” with an attractive -dancer-niece as part-time assistant, and a former Diaghileff <i>corps de -ballet</i> dancer, a member of de Basil’s company, as his spy and -henchwoman-at-large. Arrayed against this trio was the de Basil quartet: -the “Colonel” himself, and his three henchmen. The first was Ignat Zon, -a slightly obese organizer and theatre promoter from Moscow and -Petrograd, who, after the Revolution, had turned up in Paris, where he -allied himself with Prince Zeretelli, de Basil’s former Caucasian -partner. Zon was not interested in ballet; he was a commission merchant, -nothing more. The other two were a comic conspiratorial pair. One was a -Bulgarian lawyer, who had lived for some time in Paris, Jacques Lidji, -by name. The other was an undersized, tubby little hanger-on, Alexander -Philipoff, a fantastic little man with no experience of theatre or -ballet, who neither spoke nor understood a word of anything save -Russian. Philipoff certainly was not more than five feet tall, chubby, -tubby, rotund, with a beaming face and an eternally suspicious eye. The -contrast between him and the tall, gaunt de Basil was ludicrous. -Privately they were invariably referred to as Mutt and Jeff. Philipoff -constantly sought for motives (bad) behind every word uttered, behind -every facial expression, every gesture.</p> - -<p>Both men were overbearing, and rather pathetic, at that. Neither of the -pair could be called theatre people by any stretch of the imagination. -Lidji, the lawyer, was quite as futile in his own way as Philipoff. As a -pair of characters they might have been mildly amusing in <i>The Spring -Maid</i> type of operetta. As collaborators on behalf of ballet, they were -a trial and a bloody bore. Lidji, incidentally, was but one of de -Basil’s lawyers; others came and went in swift procession. But Lidji -lasted longer than some, and, for a time, acted as a sort of -under-director, as did Philipoff. Since Lidji was not, at the time, an -American citizen, he was unable to engage in the practice of law in the -States. When he was not otherwise engaged in exercises of intrigue, -Lidji would busy himself writing voluminous reports and setting down -mountains of notes.</p> - -<p>I am convinced that the reason de Basil had so many legal<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_128">{128}</a></span> advisers was -that he never paid them. Soon one or another would quit, and yet another -would turn up. I have a theory that, no matter how poor one may be, one -should always pay one’s doctor and one’s lawyer; each can help one out -of trouble.</p> - -<p>My personal problem was relatively simple. With the Massine group -raiding de Basil’s company, which of the dancers would remain with the -“Colonel”? This was problem number one. The other was, with de Basil -dropping Massine, who was the creator and the creative force behind the -de Basil company and who would, moreover, be likely to take a number of -important artists from de Basil to his own company, what would de Basil -have in the way of playable repertoire, artists, new creations?</p> - -<p>To annoyance and aggravation, now were added perplexity, puzzlement.</p> - -<p>It was at about this time, on one of my European visits, I had had -extended discussions with René Blum regarding my bringing him and his -new company to America. I had seen numerous performances given by his -company during their London season, and I had been impressed by their -quality.</p> - -<p>During this period of puzzlement on my part, Sergei Denham came to me to -try to interest me in the new Fleischmann venture. Denham assured me he -had ample financial backing for the new company. My chief concern at -this time was the question of the artistic direction of the new -organization. I told Denham that if he would secure by contract the -services of Leonide Massine in that capacity, I would be interested in -taking over the management of the company, and signed a letter to that -effect.</p> - -<p>Subsequently, the late Halsey Malone, acting as counsel for Universal -Art, the corporate title of the Fleischmann group, secured Massine’s -signature and a detailed contract was drawn up.</p> - -<p>As matters stood, I had one more season to go with my contractual -arrangements with de Basil, and Massine had the better part of another -season with the former’s company.</p> - -<p>Massine’s contract with de Basil expired while the company was playing -in San Francisco, and the two parted company, with Massine, Danilova, -and others leaving for Monte Carlo.</p> - -<p>That repertoire consisted of five Fokine-Diaghileff revivals: -<i>Carnaval</i>, <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Prince Igor</i>, and -<i>Schéhérazade</i>.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_014" style="width: 318px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_01a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_01a.jpg" width="318" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Valente</i></p> - -<p>Anton Dolin in <i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_015" style="width: 530px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_01b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_01b.jpg" width="530" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo: Alexandra Danilova as the Glove Seller -and Leonide Massine as the Peruvian in <i>Gaîté Parisienne</i></p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Valente</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_016" style="width: 387px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_02.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_02.jpg" width="387" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Maurice Seymour</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Tamara Toumanova</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_017" style="width: 408px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_03.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_03.jpg" width="408" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="cpt"><i>Maurice Seymour</i></p></div> - -<p>Alicia Markova</p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_018" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_04.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_04.jpg" width="550" height="436" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Valente</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Scene from Antony Tudor’s <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>: Hugh Laing, Antony -Tudor, Dmitri Romanoff, Lucia Chase, Alicia Markova</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_019" style="width: 389px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_04a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_04a.jpg" width="389" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Ballet Theatre: Jerome Robbins and Janet Reed in <i>Fancy Free</i></p></div> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Valente</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_020" style="width: 414px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_05.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_05.jpg" width="414" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Gordon Anthony</i></p> - -<p>Ninette de Valois</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_021" style="width: 384px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_06a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_06a.jpg" width="384" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Angus McBean</i></p> - -<p>David Webster</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_022" style="width: 331px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_06b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_06b.jpg" width="331" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Constant Lambert</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_023" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_07a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_07a.jpg" width="550" height="366" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="cpt"><i>Magnum</i></p> - -<p>S. Hurok, Margot Fonteyn, Robert Helpmann</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_024" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_07b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_07b.jpg" width="550" height="389" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Irina Baronova and Children</p> -<p class="cpt"><i>Star Photo</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_025" style="width: 545px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_08a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_08a.jpg" width="545" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Felix Fonteyn</i></p> -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Following the premiere of -<i>Sylvia</i>—Frederick Ashton, Margot Fonteyn, S. Hurok</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_026" style="width: 364px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_08b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_08b.jpg" width="364" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>S. Hurok and Margot Fonteyn</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Felix Fonteyn</i></p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_129">{129}</a></span></p> - -<p>There was a production of Delibes’s <i>Coppélia</i>, staged by Nicholas -Zvereff; the <i>Swan Lake</i> second act; a version of <i>The Nutcracker</i>, by -Boris Romanoff; and <i>Aubade</i>, to the music of Francis Poulenc, staged by -George Balanchine.</p> - -<p>Importantly, there were several new Fokine creations: <i>L’Epreuve -d’Amour</i>, a charming “<i>chinoiserie</i>,” to the music of Mozart; <i>Don -Juan</i>, a balletic retelling of the romantic tale to a discovered score -by Gluck; <i>Les Eléments</i>, to the music of Bach; <i>Jota Argonesa</i>, a work -first done by Fokine in Petrograd, in 1916; <i>Igroushki</i>, originally -staged by Fokine for the Ziegfeld Roof in New York, in 1921; <i>Les -Elfes</i>, the Mendelssohn work originally done in New York, in 1924. The -two other Fokine works were yet another version of <i>The Nutcracker</i>, and -de Falla’s <i>Love, the Sorcerer</i>, both of which were later re-done by -Boris Romanoff.</p> - -<p>Painters and designers included André Derain, Mariano Andreu, Nathalie -Gontcharova, Dmitri Bouchene, Mstislav Doboujinsky, and Cassandre.</p> - -<p>Massine’s preparations went ahead apace. In Boston there were intensive -researches and concentrated work on the score for what was destined to -be one of the most popular works in modern ballet, <i>Gaîté Parisienne</i>. -In a large room in the Copley Plaza Hotel were assembled all the extant -scores of Offenbach operettas, procured from the Boston Public Library -and the Harvard Library. There were two pianists, Massine, Efrem Kurtz, -the conductor, copyists. The basic musical material for the ballet was -selected there, under Massine’s supervision. Later, in Paris, it was put -together and re-orchestrated by Manuel Rosenthal.</p> - -<p>The de Basil company finished its American season and sailed for Europe. -Meanwhile the deal was consummated between Fleischmann, Massine, Denham -and Blum, and Universal Art became the proprietor of the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo. Before the deal was finally settled, however, Fokine had -left Blum and had sold his services to de Basil, whose company was -playing a European tour. Massine was the new artistic director of the -new Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, while Fokine had switched to de Basil.</p> - -<p>Massine was now busily engaged in building up the dancing personnel of -his new organization. On the distaff side, he had Alexandra Danilova, -Eugenia Delarova, Tamara Toumanova, Lubov Rostova, from the de Basil -company. From the Blum company he took Natalie Krassovska, Jeanette -Lauret, Milada Mladova, Mia<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_130">{130}</a></span> Slavenska, Michel Panieff, Roland Guerard, -Marc Platoff, Simon Semenoff, Jean Yasvinsky, George Zoritch, and Igor -Youskevitch, as principals. Of the group, it is of interest to note that -three—Mladova, Guerard, and Platoff—were American. In addition, -Massine engaged the English <i>ballerina</i>, Alicia Markova, then quite -unknown to American audiences, although a first lady of British Ballet; -Nini Theilade of plastic grace; and the English Frederick Franklin, yet -another Massine discovery. Serge Lifar, the last Diaghileff dancing -discovery and the leading dancer and spirit of the ballet at the Paris -Opera, was added.</p> - -<p>The new company was potentially a strong one. I was pleased. But I was -anything but pleased at the prospect of the two companies becoming -engaged in what must be the inevitable: a cut-throat competition between -them. The split, to be sure, had weakened the de Basil organization; the -new Monte Carlo company had an infinitely better balance in personnel. -In some respects, the Massine company was superior; but de Basil had a -repertoire that required only careful rehearsing, correcting, and some -refurbishing of settings and costumes. With Massine’s departure, David -Lichine had stepped into the first dancer roles. Irina Baronova had -elected to remain with de Basil, in direct competition with Toumanova; -others choosing to remain with the old company included Riabouchinska, -Grigorieva, Morosova, Verchinina, Tchernicheva, Osato, Shabalevsky, -Petroff, Lazovsky, and Jasinsky.</p> - -<p>I envisaged, for the good of ballet and its future, one big ballet -company, embracing the talents and the repertoires of both. I genuinely -feared the co-existence of the two companies, being certain that the -United States and Canada were not yet ready to support two companies -simultaneously. I pleaded with both to merge their interests, bury their -differences. I devoted all my time and energy in a concentrated effort -to bring about this desired end. The problems were complicated; but I -was certain that if there was a genuine desire on both sides, and good -will, a deal would be worked out. It blew hot. It blew cold. As time -went on, with no tangible results visible, my hopes diminished. It was -not only the financial arrangements between the two companies that -presented grave obstacles; there were formidable personality -differences. The negotiations continued and were long drawn-out. Then, -one day, the clouds suddenly thinned and, to my complete surprise, we -appeared to be making progress. Almost miraculously, so it seemed, the -attorneys for Uni<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_131">{131}</a></span>versal Art and de Basil sat down to draw up the -preliminary papers for the agreement to agree to merge. Through all this -trying period there was helpful assistance from Prince Serge Obolensky -and Baron “Nikki” Guinsberg.</p> - -<p>At last the day arrived when the agreement was ready for joint approval, -clause by clause, by both parties to the merger, with myself holding a -watching brief as the prospective manager of the eagerly awaited Big -Ballet. This meeting went on for hours and hours. It opened in the -offices of Washburn, Malone and Perkins, the Universal Art attorneys, in -West Forty-fourth Street, early in the afternoon. By nine o’clock at -night endless haggling, ravelled tempers, recurring deadlocks had, I -thought reached their limit.</p> - -<p>Food saved that situation. Prince Obolensky and my attorney, Elias -Lieberman, fetched hamburgers. But, before they could be consumed, we -were evicted from the offices of the attorneys by the last departing -elevator man, who announced the building was being closed for the night, -and the conference, hamburgers and all, was transferred to the St. Regis -Hotel. At four o’clock the next morning, a verbal agreement was reached. -The deed was done. I felt sure that now we had, with this combination of -all the finest balletic forces extant in the Western World, the best as -well as the biggest.</p> - -<p>The “Colonel” departed for Berlin to join his company which was playing -an engagement there. He was to have signed the agreement before sailing, -but, procrastinator that he was, he slipped away without affixing his -signature. Nor had he authorized his attorney to sign for him, and it -took a flock of wireless messages and cables to extract from him the -authority the attorney required. At last it came.</p> - -<p>I had never been happier. Mrs. Hurok and I got ourselves aboard the -<i>Normandie</i> for our annual summer solstice in Europe. On board we found -the Julius Fleischmanns. At dinner the first night out, our joint toast -was in thanks for the merger and to the Biggest and Best of all Ballets.</p> - -<p>Although Fleischmann showed me one mildly disturbing wireless message, I -had five days of peace. It was not destined to continue. When I stepped -down from the boat train at London’s Waterloo Station, I was greeted by -the news that the merger was off.</p> - -<p>The “Colonel” had changed his mind. Massine also had become resentful at -a division of authority. Confusion reigned. As an immediate result, -almost overnight de Basil lost control and the authori<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_132">{132}</a></span>tative voice in -his own company. Altogether, it was a complicated business.</p> - -<p>A new holding company, calling itself Educational Ballets, Ltd., headed -by Baron “Freddy” d’Erlanger, banker and composer, whose bank had a -large interest in the de Basil company, had taken over the operation of -the company, and had placed a new pair of managing directors in charge: -Victor Dandré, Anna Pavlova’s husband and manager, jointly with “Gerry” -Sevastianov, the husband of Irina Baronova. The Royal Opera House, -Covent Garden, which was to have been the scene of the debut of the Big -Merged Company, had been taken for the original organization.</p> - -<p>It was all a bad dream, I felt. This impression was intensified a -hundred fold when I sat in the High Court in London’s Temple Bar, as -be-wigged counsel and robed judge performed an autopsy on my dream -ballet. Here, with all the trappings of legality, but no genuine -understanding, a little tragicomedy was being played out. Educational -Ballets, Ltd., announced the performance of all the Massine ballets in -the de Basil repertoire. This spurred Massine into immediate legal -action.</p> - -<p>Massine went into court, not for damages, not for money, but for a -declaratory judgment to determine, once for all, his own rights in his -own creations. The court’s decision, after days of forensic argument, -conducted with that understatement and soft but biting insult that is -the prerogative of British learned counsel, was a piece of legalistic -hair-splitting. Under British law, unlike the American, choreographic -rights are protected. Would that the choreographic artist had a like -protection under our system! By virtue of having presented the works in -public performance, the court decided that de Basil had the right to -continue such presentation: any works Massine had created as an employee -of de Basil, while receiving a salary from him, Massine could not -reproduce for a period of five years. Only the three works he had -originally created for Diaghileff: <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i>, <i>The -Fantastic Toy-Shop</i>, and <i>Le Beau Danube</i>, could be reproduced by him -for himself or for any other company.</p> - -<p>The court action was a fortnight’s news-making wonder in London. Ballet -was not helped by it. Ballet belongs on the stage, not in the musty -atmosphere of the court room. De Basil and his lawyers, Massine and his -lawyers, Universal Art and their lawyers. It is a silly business. <i>X</i> -brings an action against <i>Y</i> over an alleged breach of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_133">{133}</a></span> a theatrical -employment contract. Let us assume that <i>X</i> represents the employer, <i>Y</i> -the artist-employee. Let us assume further that <i>X</i> wins the action. <i>Y</i> -must continue in the employment of <i>X</i>. What, I ask you, is less -satisfactory than an artist who is compelled by a court judgment to -fulfil a contract? In ballet, the only persons who benefit in ballet -lawsuits are the learned counsel. Differences of opinion, personality -clashes are not healed by legal action; they are accentuated. Legal -actions of this sort are instituted usually in anger and bitterness. -When the legal decision is made, the final settlement adjudicated, the -bitterness remains.</p> - -<p>The merger off, my contract with Universal Art came into force. I was -committed to the management of a London season. Since the traditional -home of ballet, the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, had been preempted -by the old company, I took Old Drury, the historic Drury Lane Theatre, -whose history is as long, whose beauty is equally famous, whose seating -capacity is enormous.</p> - -<p>The two houses are two short blocks apart. The seasons were -simultaneous. Both were remarkably successful; both companies played to -packed houses nightly. Nightly I had my usual table at the Savoy Grill, -that famed London rendezvous of theatrical, musical, balletic, and -literary life. Nightly my table was crowded with the ebb and flow of -departing and arriving guests. The London summer, despite my -forebodings, was halcyon.</p> - -<p>De Basil, at this period, was not a part of this cosmopolitanism and -gaiety. Having been forced out of the control of his own company, at -least for the moment, he became a recluse in a tiny house in Shepherd’s -Market, typically biding his time in his true-to-form Caucasian manner, -reflecting on his victory, although it had been more Pyrrhic than -triumphant. We met for dinner in his band-box house, most of which time -I devoted to a final effort to effect a merger of the two companies. It -was a case of love’s labour lost, for the opposing groups were poles -apart.</p> - -<p>The summer wore on into the late English midsummer heat, when all London -takes itself hence. The original company’s season at Covent Carden -slowed down, came to a stop; and a fortnight later, we rang down our -final curtain at Drury Lane.</p> - -<p>Before leaving for Paris, en route home to New York, there was a bit of -straightening out to be done in London. The merger having failed to -jell, a bit of additional adjustment was necessary. In other words, -because of the changed situation, my contract with Universal<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_134">{134}</a></span> Art had to -be renegotiated. As in all matters balletic, it would seem, numerous -conferences were required; but the new contract was eventually -negotiated agreeably.</p> - -<p>Back in New York, the day of the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe opening -approached. There were the usual alarums and excursions, and others not -so usual. Markova, of course, was English. Moreover, she danced the -coveted role, the title part in <i>Giselle</i>. She had already made this -part quite personally something of her own. Her success in the role -during the Drury Lane season, where she had alternated the part with -Tamara Toumanova, had been conspicuous. Although the role was shared -between three <i>ballerinas</i>, Markova, Toumanova, and Slavenska, Massine -and I agreed that, since the opening performance in New York was so -important and because Markova was new to the country, it would provide -her with a magnificent opportunity for a debut; she should dance Giselle -that night.</p> - -<p>Factionism was rampant. Pressures of almost every sort were put upon -Massine to switch the opening night casting.</p> - -<p>A threat of possible violence caused me to take the precaution to have -detectives, disguised as stage-hands standing by; I eliminated the -trap-door and understage elevator used in this production as Giselle’s -grave, and gave instructions to have everything loose on the stage -fastened down. So literally were these orders carried out that even the -lilies Giselle has to pluck in the second act and toss to her Albrecht -while dancing as a ghost, were securely nailed to the stage floor. This -nearly caused a minor contretemps and what might have turned out to be a -ludicrous situation, when Markova had to rip them up by main force -before she could toss them to Serge Lifar, who was making his first New -York appearance with the company as Albrecht.</p> - -<p>Lifar’s brief association with the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe was not -a happy one for any of us, least of all for himself. He certainly did -not behave well. In my earlier book, <i>Impresario</i>, I dwelt quite fully -on certain aspects of his weird fantasies. There is no point in -repeating them. Always excitable, here in New York at that time Lifar -was unable to understand and realize he was not at the Paris Opera, -where his every word is law.</p> - -<p>Lifar’s fantastic behavior in New York before we shipped him back to -Paris was but an example of his lack of tact and his overwhelming -egoism. He proved to be a colossal headache; but I believe much of it -was due to a streak of self-dramatization in his nature, and a positive -delight he takes in being the central character, the focus of an -“incident.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_135">{135}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Under the influence of a genuine creative urge, Massine’s directions of -the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe for two seasons richly fulfilled the -promise it held at the company’s inception. The public grew larger each -season. At the same time, slowly, but none the less surely, that public -became, I believe, more understanding. The ballet public of America was -cutting its eye-teeth.</p> - -<p>It was during the early seasons that Massine added three more symphonic -ballets to the repertoire, with Beethoven’s <i>Seventh Symphony</i>; <i>Rouge -et Noir</i>, to the brilliant First Symphony of Dmitri Shostakovich; and -<i>Labyrinth</i>, a surrealist treatment of the Seventh Symphony of Franz -Schubert. Christian Bérard provided scenery and costumes for the first -of them; Henri Matisse, for the second; Salvador Dali, for the last. The -Shostakovich work was the most successful of the three. Regrettably, all -these symphonic ballets are lost to present-day audiences.</p> - -<p>The outstanding comedy success was <i>Gaîté Parisienne</i>, the Offenbach -romp, originally started in Boston before the company as such existed. -The most sensational work was Massine’s first surrealist ballet, -<i>Bacchanale</i>, to the Venusberg music from Wagner’s <i>Tannhauser</i>. A quite -fantastic spectacle, from every point of view, it was a Massine-Dali -joke, one that was less successful when the same combination tried to -repeat it in <i>Labyrinth</i>.</p> - -<p>There were lesser Massine works, produced under frantic pressure; -examples: <i>Saratoga</i>, an unhappy attempt to capture the American spirit -of the up-state New York spa, to a commissioned score by Jaromir -Weinberger; <i>The New Yorker</i>, which was certainly no American <i>Gaîté -Parisienne</i>, being Massine’s attempt to try to bring to balletic life -the characters, the atmosphere, and the perky humors of the popular -weekly magazine, all to a pastiche of George Gershwin’s music. A third -work was one of his last Monte Carlo Ballet Russe creations, -<i>Vienna—1814</i>, an evocation of the spirit of the Congress of Vienna, to -music by Carl Maria von Weber, orchestrated by Robert Russell Bennett.</p> - -<p><i>Bogatyri</i>, a colorful Russian spectacle, designed as a sort of -successor to Fokine’s <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>, had spectacular scenery and -costumes by Nathalie Gontcharova, and was a long and detailed work -utilising a movement of a Borodin string quartet and his Second -Symphony. In cooperation with Argentinita, Massine staged a quite -successful Spanish <i>divertissement</i> to Rimsky-Korsakoff’s <i>Capriccio -Espagnol</i>, using for it the set and costumes Mariano Andreu had designed -for Fokine’s <i>Jota Argonesa</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_136">{136}</a></span></p> - -<p>In summing up Massine’s creations for the new company, I have left his -most important contribution until the last. It was <i>St. Francis</i>, -originally done in our first season at London’s Drury Lane, where it was -known as <i>Noblissima Visione</i>. A collaboration between the composer, -Paul Hindemith, and Massine, it may be called one of Massine’s greatest -triumphs and one of his very finest works. The ballet, unfortunately, -was not popular with mass audiences; but it was work of deep and moving -beauty, with a ravishing musical score, magnificent scenery and costumes -by Pavel Tchelitcheff, and two great performances by Massine himself in -the title role, and Nini Theilade, as Poverty, the bride of St. Francis.</p> - -<p>For the record, let me note the other works that made up the Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo repertoire under my management: Massine’s -productions of <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i>, <i>The Fantastic Toy Shop</i>, and -<i>Le Beau Danube</i>. George Balanchine staged a revival of <i>Le Baiser de La -Fée</i> (<i>The Fairy’s Kiss</i>) and <i>Jeu de Cartes</i> (<i>Card Game</i>), both -Stravinsky works he had done before, and all borrowed from the American -Ballet. There was a new production of Delibes’s <i>Coppélia</i>, in a setting -by Pierre Roy; and the Fokine-Blum works I have mentioned before.</p> - -<p>I accepted as a new production a revival of Tchaikowsky’s <i>The -Nutcracker</i>, staged by Alexandra Fedorova, and a re-working of parts of -Tchaikowsky’s <i>Swan Lake</i>, also staged by Fedorova, under the title of -<i>The Magic Swan</i>.</p> - -<p>Three productions remain to be mentioned. One was <i>Icare</i>, staged only -at the Metropolitan Opera House in the first season, a graphic and -moving re-enactment of the Icarus legend, by Serge Lifar, to percussive -rhythms only. The second was Richard Rodgers’s first and only -exclusively ballet score, <i>Ghost Town</i>, a <i>genre</i> work dealing with the -California Gold Rush. It was the first choreographic job of a talented -young American character dancer, Marc Platoff, born Marcel Le Plat, in -Seattle. Not a work out of the top drawer, it was nevertheless a good -try for a young choreographer.</p> - -<p>The third work in this group is one I felt should have been given a -better chance. It was <i>Devil’s Holiday</i>, by Frederick Ashton, the -leading choreographer of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, and his first -all-balletic work to be seen on this side of the Atlantic. Done at the -opening of our 1939-1940 season, at the Metropolitan Opera House, under -the stress and strain of a hectic departure, and a hurried one, from -Europe after the outbreak of the war, it suffered as a conse<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_137">{137}</a></span>quence. In -settings and costumes by Eugene Berman, its score was a Tommasini -arrangement of Paganini works. Ashton had been able only partially to -rehearse the piece in Paris before the company made its getaway, -eventually to reach New York on the day of the Metropolitan opening, -after a difficult and circuitous crossing to avoid submarines. On -arrival, a number of the company were taken off to Ellis Island until we -could straighten out faulty visas and clarify papers. I am certain -<i>Devil’s Holiday</i> was one of Ashton’s most interesting creations; it -suffered because the creator was unable to complete it and, as a -consequence, America was never able to see it as its creator intended, -or at anything like its best.</p> - -<p>With the 1940-1941 season, deterioration had set in at the vitals of the -Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, Massine had exerted tremendous efforts. The -company he had created was a splendid one. But, as both leading dancer -and chief choreographer, he had no time to rest, no time to think. The -same sloughing off that took place with the de Basil company was now -becoming apparent in this one. There was a creaking in the vessel -proper, an obvious straining at the seams. The non-Massine productions -lacked freshness or any distinctive quality. There were defections among -some of the best artists. Massine was coming up against a repetition of -his de Basil association. Friction between Massine and Denham increased, -as the latter became more difficult.</p> - -<p>I could not be other than sad, for Massine had given of his best to -create and maintain a fine organization. He had been a shining example -to the others. The company had started on a high plane of -accomplishment; but it was impossible for Massine to continue under the -conditions that daily became less and less bearable. Heaven knows, the -“Colonel” had been difficult. But he had an instinct for the theatre, a -serious love for ballet, a broad experience, was a first-class -organizer, and an untiring, never ceasing, dynamic worker.</p> - -<p>Sergei Denham, by comparison, was a mere tyro at ballet direction, and -an amateur at that. But, amateur or not, he was convinced he had -inherited the talent, the knowledge, the taste of the late Serge -Diaghileff.</p> - -<p>I had not devoted twenty-eight years of hard, slogging work to the -building of good ballet in America to allow it to deteriorate into a -shambles because of the arbitrariness of another would-be Diaghileff.</p> - -<p>It was time for a change.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_138">{138}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_9">9.</a> What Price Originality? The Original Ballet Russe</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span><b>HE</b> condition of the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe in 1941 being as I have -described it, it became imperative for me to try to improve the -situation as best I could. It was a period of perplexity.</p> - -<p>The “Colonel,” once more installed in the driver’s seat of his company, -with its name now changed from Educational Ballets, Ltd., to the -Original Ballet Russe, had been enjoying an extended sojourn in -Australia and New Zealand, under the management of E. J. Tait.</p> - -<p>Although I knew deterioration had set in with the old de Basil -company—so much so that it had been one of the salient reasons for the -formation of the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, quite apart from the -recurring personality clashes—I was now faced with a deterioration in -the latter company, one that had occurred earlier in its history and -that was moving more swiftly: a galloping deterioration. As I watched -the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo company performances, I was acutely -conscious not only of this, but I saw disruption actively at work. The -dancers themselves were no longer interested. They day-dreamed of -Broadway musicals; they night-dreamed of the hills of Hollywood and film -contracts. Some were wistfully thinking in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_139">{139}</a></span> terms of their own little -concert groups. The structure was, to say the least, shaky.</p> - -<p>From the reports that reached me of the Original company’s success and -re-establishment in Australia, I sensed the possibility (and the hope) -that a rejuvenation had taken place. Apart from that, there had been new -works added to the repertoire, works I was eager to see and which I felt -would give the American ballet-goer a fresh interest, for that important -individual had every right to be a bit jaded with things as they were.</p> - -<p>Since I had taken the precaution to have the “exclusivity” clause -removed from my Universal Art contract, I was free to experiment. I -therefore arranged to bring de Basil and his Original Ballet Russe to -America from Australia. They arrived on the Pacific Coast, and we played -an engagement in Los Angeles, another in Chicago, yet another in Canada. -Then I brought them to New York.</p> - -<p>This was a season when the Metropolitan Opera House was not available -for ballet performances. Therefore, I took the Hollywood Theatre, on -Broadway, today rechristened the Mark Hellinger.</p> - -<p>I opened the season with a four weeks’ engagement of the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, followed immediately by the Original Ballet Russe, making a -consecutive period of about fifteen weeks of ballet at one house, -setting up a record of some sort for continuous ballet performances on -Broadway.</p> - -<p>Christmas intervened, and, following my usual custom, I gave a large -party at Sherry’s in honor of Mrs. Hurok’s birthday, which occurs on the -25th December, at which were gathered the entire personnel of the -company, together with Katherine Dunham, Argentinita, and other -distinguished guests.</p> - -<p>If I should be asked why I again allied myself with the “Colonel,” I -already have given a partial answer. There was a sentimental reason, -too. It was a case of “first love.” I wanted to go back to that early -love, to try to recapture some of the old feeling, the former rapture. I -should have realized that one does not go back, that one of the near -impossibilities of life is to recapture the old thrill. Those who can -are among the earth’s most fortunate.</p> - -<p>This ten-week season was expensive. The pleasure of trying to recapture -cost me $70,000 in losses.</p> - -<p>There were, however, compensations: there was the unending circus of -“Mutt and Jeff,” the four-feet-seven “Sasha” Philipoff and the -six-feet-two “Colonel.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_140">{140}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>There was a repertoire that interested me. It was a pleasure once again -to luxuriate in the splendors of <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>, although the investiture -had become a shade or two tarnished from too much travel and too little -touching-up. It was refreshing to see Baronova and Toumanova in brisk -competition again in the same company, for the latter had already become -one of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo defections.</p> - -<p>It is difficult for me to realize that Irina Baronova no longer dances. -She was the youngest of the “baby ballerinas.” Gentle, shy, with -honey-colored hair, Irina was born in Leningrad, and eventually reached -Paris, with her family, by way of the Orient. About her was a simple, -classical beauty, despite the fact that she always found it necessary to -disguise (on the stage) her rather impudent little nose in a variety of -ways by the use of make-up putty. It was so when she started in as a -tiny child to study with the great lady of the Maryinsky, Olga -Preobrajenska, whose nose also has a tilt.</p> - -<p>To George Balanchine must go the credit for discovering Baronova in -Preobrajenska’s School in Paris, when he was on the search for new -talents at the time of the formation of the de Basil-Blum Les Ballets -Russes de Monte Carlo. About her work there was always something joyful -and yet, at the same time, something that was at once wistful and -tender.</p> - -<p>As a classical dancer there was something so subtle about her art that -its true value and her true value came only slowly upon one. There was -no flash; everything about her, every movement, every gesture, flowed -one into another—as in swimming. But not only was she a great classical -dancer, she was the younger generation’s most accomplished mime.</p> - -<p>I like to remember her as the Lady Gay, that red-haired trollop of the -construction camps, in <i>Union Pacific</i>, with her persuasive, -characteristic “come-up-and-see-me-sometime” interpretation; to remember -her in the minor role of the First Hand in <i>Le Beau Danube</i>, carefree, -innocent, flirting at the side of the stage with a park artist. I like -to remember her in <i>Jeux d’Enfants</i>, as she ran through the gamut of -jealousy, petulance, anger, and triumph; in <i>Les Présages</i>, as the -passionate woman loving with her whole being, fighting off the evil that -threatens love; in the mazurka in <i>Les Sylphides</i>; in <i>The Hundred -Kisses</i>, imperious, sulky, stubborn, humorously sly; and as the -Ballerina in <i>Petroushka</i>, drawing that line of demarcation between -heartless doll and equally heartless flirting woman.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_141">{141}</a></span></p> - -<p>Performance over, and away from the theatre, another transformation took -place; for Irina was never off-stage the <i>grande artiste</i>, the -<i>ballerina</i>, but a healthy, normal girl, with a keen sense of humor.</p> - -<p>After a turn or two as a “legitimate” actress and a previous marriage, -Baronova now lives in London’s Mayfair, the wife of a London theatrical -manager, with her two children. The triumph of domesticity is ballet’s -loss.</p> - -<p>I should like to set down from my memory the additions to the repertoire -of the Original Ballet Russe while they had been absent from our shores.</p> - -<p>There were some definitely refreshing works. Chief among these were two -Fokine creations, <i>Paganini</i> and <i>Cendrillon</i>.</p> - -<p>The former had been worked out by Fokine with Sergei Rachmaninoff, -utilizing for music a slightly re-worked version of the latter’s -<i>Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini</i>. Serge Soudeikine had designed a -production that ranked at the top of that Russian designer’s list of -theatre creations. The entire ballet had a fine theatrical -effectiveness. Perhaps the whole may not have been equal to the sum of -its parts, but the second scene, wherein Paganini hypnotized a young -girl by his playing of the guitar and the force of his striking -personality, thereby forcing her into a dance of magnificent frenzy, was -a striking example of the greatness of Fokine. Tatiana Riabouchinska -rose to tremendous heights in the part. I remember Victor Dandré, so -long Pavlova’s life-partner and manager, telling me how, in this part, -Riabouchinska reminded him of Pavlova. Dandré did not often toss about -bouquets of this type.</p> - -<p><i>Cendrillon</i> was Fokine’s retelling of the Cinderella tale. The score, -by Baron “Freddy” d’Erlanger, was certainly no great shakes, but Fokine -illuminated the entire work with the sort of inventiveness that was so -characteristic of him at his best. It would be unjust to compare this -production with the later Frederick Ashton <i>Cinderella</i>, to the -Prokofieff score, which he staged for the Sadler’s Wells Ballet; the -approach was quite different. The de Basil-Fokine production -nevertheless had a distinct charm of its own, enhanced by a genuine -fairy-tale setting by Nathalie Gontcharova.</p> - -<p>A lesser contribution to the repertoire was a symbolic piece, <i>The -Eternal Struggle</i>, staged by Igor Schwezoff, in Australia, to Robert -Schumann piano music, orchestrated by Antal Dorati. It served the -purpose of introducing two Australian designers to America: the Misses -Kathleen and Florence Martin.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_142">{142}</a></span></p> - -<p>There was a duo of works by David Lichine, one serious and unsuccessful, -the other a comedy that had a substantial audience success and which, -since then, has moved from company to company. The former, <i>Protée</i>, was -arranged to Debussy’s <i>Danses Sacré et Profane</i>, in a Chirico setting -and costumes. The latter, <i>Graduation Ball</i>, Lichine had staged during -the long Australian stay. Its music was an admirable selection and -arrangement of Johann Strauss tunes by Antal Dorati. Its setting and -costumes were by Alexandre Benois. Much of its humor was sheer horseplay -and on the obvious side; but it was completely high-spirited, and was -the season’s comedy success.</p> - -<p>A third work, credited to Lichine, was <i>The Prodigal Son</i>, a ballet that -was the outstanding creation of the last Diaghileff season, in 1929. Set -to a memorable commissioned score by Serge Prokofieff, by George -Balanchine, with Serge Lifar, Leon Woizikovsky, Anton Dolin and Felia -Dubrowska in the central roles, it had striking and evocative settings -and costumes by Georges Rouault. De Basil had secured these properties, -and had had the work re-done in Australia by Lichine. Lichine insisted -he had never seen the Balanchine original and thus approached the -subject with a fresh mind. However, Serge Grigorieff was the general -stage director for both companies. It is not beyond possibility that -Grigorieff, with his sensitive-plate retentive mind for balletic detail, -might have transferred much of the spirit and style of the original to -the de Basil-Lichine presentation. However it may have been, the result -was a moving theatrical experience. My strongest memory of it is the -exciting performance given by Sono Osato as the exotic siren who seduces -the Prodigal during his expensive excursion among the flesh-pots.</p> - -<p>During this Hollywood Theatre season we also had <i>Le Cotillon</i>, that had -served originally to introduce Riabouchinska to American audiences. We -also, I am happy to remember, had Fokine’s Firebird, in the original -choreography, and the uncut Stravinsky score, together with the -remarkable settings and costumes of Gontcharova. Its opening performance -provided a few breath-taking moments when Baronova’s costume gave way, -and she fought bravely to prevent an embarrassing exposure.</p> - -<p>During their tenure of the Hollywood Theatre, we managed one creation. -It was <i>Balustrade</i>. Its choreography was by George Balanchine. Its -music was Igor Stravinsky’s Violin Concerto, played in the orchestra pit -by Samuel Dushkin, for whom it was written. Stravin<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_143">{143}</a></span>sky himself came on -from California to conduct the work. As is so often the case with -Balanchine, it had neither story nor theme nor idea; it was simply an -abstraction in which Balanchine set out to exploit to the fullest the -brittle technical prowess of Tamara Toumanova. The only reason I could -determine for the title was that the setting, by Pavel Tchelitcheff, -consisted of a long balustrade. Unfortunately, despite all the costs, -which I paid, it had, all told, one consecutive performance.</p> - -<p>The close of the season at the Hollywood Theatre found me, once again, -in a perplexed mood. The de Basil organization, riddled by intrigue and -quite out of focus, was not the answer. Its finances were in a parlous -state. I disengaged my emotions and surveyed both the negligible -artistic accomplishments and the substantial financial losses. I turned -a deaf ear to de Basil’s importunings to have me undertake another -American tour, although I did sponsor engagements in Boston and -Philadelphia, and undertook to send the company to Mexico and South -America.</p> - -<p>As matters stood, neither the company nor the repertoire was good -enough. I still had one more season tied to the Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, and that, for the moment, was enough of trouble. I argued with -myself that the Denham difficulties were sufficient unto one day, -without deliberately and gratuitously adding those of the “Colonel.”</p> - -<p>Fresh troubles arose in Philadelphia, from which point the company was -to depart for Mexico City. Tamara Toumanova’s presence with the company -was one of the conditions of the Mexican contract.</p> - -<p>It will not be difficult, I think, for the reader to imagine my feelings -when, on my arrival in Philadelphia, I was greeted by Toumanova with the -news that she was leaving the company, that her contract with de Basil -had expired, and that nothing in her life had given her greater -happiness than to be able to quit.</p> - -<p>De Basil was not to be found. He had gone into hiding. I went into -action. I approached “Gerry” Sevastianov and his wife, Irina Baronova, -to help out the situation by agreeing to have Baronova go to Mexico in -place of the departing Toumanova. She consented, and this cost me an -additional considerable sum.</p> - -<p>Having succeeded in this, de Basil emerged from his hiding place to hold -me up once again by demanding money under duress. He had no money and -had to have cash in advance before he would<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_144">{144}</a></span> move the company to Mexico. -Once there, he raised objections to the Baronova arrangements, did not -want her to dance or as a member of the company; and there was a general -air of sabotage, egged on, I have no doubt, by a domestic situation, -wherein his wife wanted to dance leading roles.</p> - -<p>Somehow we managed to get through the Mexico City engagement and to get -them to Cuba. There matters came to a head with a vengeance. Because of -de Basil’s inability to pay salaries, he started cutting salaries, with -a strike that has become a part of ballet history ensuing.</p> - -<p>Once more I dispatched my trusty right hand, Mae Frohman, to foreign -parts to try to straighten matters out. There was nothing she could do. -The mess was too involved, too complicated, and the only possible course -was for me to drop the whole thing.</p> - -<p>De Basil, looking for new worlds to conquer, started for South America. -His adventures in the Southern Hemisphere have no important place in -this book, since the company was not then under my management. They -would, moreover, fill another book. The de Basil South American venture, -however, enters this story chronologically at a later point. Let it be -said that the “Colonel’s” adventures there were as fantastic as the man -himself. They included, among many other things, defection after -defection, sometimes necessitating a recruiting of dancers almost from -the streets; the performances of ballets with girls who had never heard -of the works, much less seen them, having to rehearse them sketchily -while the curtain was waiting to rise; the coincidence of performance -with the outbreak of a local revolution; flying his little company in -shifts, since only one jalopy plane, in a dubious state of repair, was -available. I shall not go into his fantastic financing, this being one -of the few times when, as I suggested at the beginning of this book, the -curtain might be lowered for a few discreet moments, in order to spare -the feelings of others rather than my own.</p> - -<p>In the quiet of the small hours of the morning, I would lie awake and -compare the personalities of the two “organizers,” de Basil and Denham, -reviewing their likenesses and their differences. As I dozed off, I came -to the conclusion that most generalizations about personality are wrong. -When you have spent hours, days, months, years in close association and -have been bored and irritated by a flamboyant individual, you are apt to -think that restraint and reticence are the only virtues. Until you meet -a quiet fellow, who is quiet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_145">{145}</a></span> either because he has nothing to say or -nothing to make a noise about, and then discover his stillness is merely -a convenient mask for deceit.</p> - -<p>Massine, unable to continue any longer with the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe -management, severed his connection with the company he had made, in -1942. Save for a few undistinguished creations, de Basil was skating -along as best he could on his Diaghileff heritage; classicism was being -neglected in the frantic search for “novelties.” Both companies were -making productions, not on any basis of policy, but simply for -expediency and as cheaply as possible. Existing productions in both -companies were increasingly slipshod. While it is true that a good -ballet is a good ballet, it is something less than good when it receives -niggardly treatment or when it is given one less iota than the strictest -attention to detail.</p> - -<p>That is exactly what happened when the companies split, and split again: -the works suffered; this, together with the recurring internal crises, -boded ill for the future of ballet. There was the ever-present need for -money for new productions. Diaghileff had one Maecenas after another. By -the beginning of the third decade of the twentieth century, a Maecenas -was becoming a rare bird indeed. Today he is as dead as the proverbial -Dodo.</p> - -<p>I had certain definite convictions about ballet, I still have them. One -of them is that the sound cornerstone of any ballet company must be -formed of genuine classics. But these must never take the form of -“modern” versions, nor additionally suffer from anything less than -painstaking productions, top-drawer performances, and an infinite -respect for the works themselves. Ballet may depart from the classical -base as far as it wishes to experiment, but the base should always be -kept in sight; and psychological excursions, explorations into the -subconscious, should never be permitted to obscure the fact that the -basic function of ballet is to entertain. By that I do not mean to -suggest ballet should stand still, should chain itself to reaction and -the conservatism of a dead past. It should look forward, move forward; -but it must take its bearings from those virtues of a living past, which -is its heritage: all of which can be summed up in one brief phrase—the -classical tradition.</p> - -<p>There are increasingly frequent attempts to create ballets crammed with -symbols dealing with various aspects of sex, perversion, physical and -psychological tensions. In one of the world’s great ballet centers there -have been attempts to use ballet as a means to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_146">{146}</a></span> promulgate and -propagandize political ideologies. I am glad to say the latter have been -completely unsuccessful and they have returned to the classics.</p> - -<p>I should be the last person to wish to limit the choreographer’s choice -of subject material. That is ready to his hand and mind. The fact -remains that, in my opinion, ballet cannot (and will not) be tied down -to any one style, aesthetic, religion, ideology, or philosophy. -Therefore, it seems to me, the function of the choreographer is to -express balletic ideas, thought, and emotion in a way that first and -foremost pleases him. But, at the same time, I should like to remind -every choreographer of a distinguished authority, when he said, -“Pleasure, and pleasure alone, is the purpose of art.” But pleasure -differs in kind according to the way that individuals and groups of -individuals differ in mental and emotional make-up. Thus ballet provides -pleasure for the intellectual and the sensualist, the idealist and the -realist, the Catholic, the Protestant, the Atheist. And it will remain -the function of the choreographer to provide this infinite variety of -pleasure until such time that all men think, feel, and act alike.</p> - -<p>Ballet was at a cross-road. I was at a cross-road in my career in -ballet. It was at this indecisive point there emerged a new light on the -balletic horizon. It called itself Ballet Theatre. It interested me very -much.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_147">{147}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_10">10.</a> The Best of Plans ... Ballet Theatre</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">D</span><b>URING</b> the very late ’thirties, Mikhail Mordkin had had a ballet -company, giving sporadic performances on Sunday nights, occasionally on -week-day evenings, and, now and then, some out-of-town performances. It -was a small company, largely made up of Mordkin’s pupils, of which one, -Lucia Chase, was <i>prima ballerina</i>. Miss Chase was seen in, among other -parts, the title role of <i>Giselle</i>, in which she was later replaced by -Patricia Bowman.</p> - -<p>This little company is credited with having given the first performance -on this continent of the full-length Tchaikowsky <i>Sleeping Beauty</i>. In -order that the record may be quite clear on this point, the production -was not that of the Petipa masterpiece, but rather Mordkin’s own -version. It was presented at Waterbury, Connecticut, in 1937. Waterbury -is the home town of Lucia Chase. Lucia Chase was the Princess Aurora of -the production. So far as the records reveal, there was a single -performance.</p> - -<p>The season of 1938-1939 was the Mordkin company’s last. It was, as a -company, foredoomed to failure from the very start, in my opinion. Its -repertoire was meagre, unbalanced; it had no dancers who were known; it -lacked someone of <i>ballerina</i> stature.</p> - -<p>Towards the end of the company’s existence, Mordkin had an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_148">{148}</a></span> associate, -Richard Pleasant, whose interest in ballet had, in earlier days, caused -him to act as a supernumerary in de Basil company productions, and who -had an idea: an idea that has lurked in the minds of a number of young -men I know, to wit: to form a ballet company. It is one thing to want to -form a ballet company, another to do it. In addition to having the idea, -one must have money—and a great deal of it.</p> - -<p>In this case, idea and money came together simultaneously, for the -Mordkin school and company had Lucia Chase, with ambitions and interest -as well. Lucia Chase had money—a great deal of it—and she wanted to -dance. She had substantially financed the Mordkin company. Pleasant went -ahead with his plan for a grandiose organization—with his ideas and -Chase’s money. The Mordkin company was closed up; and a new company, on -a magnificent scale, calling itself Ballet Theatre, was formed.</p> - -<p>The Mordkin venture had been too small, too limited in its scope, too -reactionary in thought, so Mordkin himself was pushed into the -background, soon to be ousted altogether, and the tremendous undertaking -went forward on a scale the like of which this country had never seen. -In a Utopia such a pretentious scheme would have a permanent place in -the cultural pattern, for the company’s avowed policy, at the outset, -was to act as a repository for genuine masterpieces of all periods and -styles of the dance; it would be to the dance what a great museum is to -the arts of sculpture and painting. The classical, the romantic, the -modern, all would find a home in the new organization. The company was -to be so organized that it could compete with the world’s best. It -should be large. It should have ample backing.</p> - -<p>The company’s debut at the Center Theatre, in New York’s Rockefeller -Center, on 11th January, 1940, was preceded by a ballyhoo of circus -proportions. The rehearsal period preceding this date was long and -arduous. The company’s slogans included one announcing that the works -were “staged by the greatest collaboration in ballet history.” It was a -“super” organization—imposing, diverse and diffuse. But it was a big -idea, albeit an impractical one. Its impracticability, however, did not -lessen the impact of its initial impression. More than thirteen years -have elapsed since Ballet Theatre made its bow, and one can hardly -regard its initial roster of contributors even now without an astonished -blink of the eyes. There were twenty principal dancers, fifteen -soloists, a <i>corps de ballet</i> of fifty-six. In<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_149">{149}</a></span> addition, there was a -Negro group numbering fourteen. There was an additional Spanish group of -nineteen. The choreographers numbered eleven; an equal number of scene -and costume designers; three orchestra conductors. Eighteen composers, -living and dead, contributed to the initial repertoire of as many works.</p> - -<p>Although the founders were American, as was the backing, there was no -slavish chauvinism in its repertoire, which was cosmopolitan and -catholic. Only two of its eleven choreographers were natives: Eugene -Loring and Agnes de Mille. The company was international. Three of the -choreographers were English: Anton Dolin, Andrée Howard, and Antony -Tudor. Four were Russian: Michel Fokine, Adolph Bolm, Mikhail Mordkin, -Bronislava Nijinska.</p> - -<p>Only five of the eighteen works that made up the repertoire of the -introductory season of Ballet Theatre remain in existence: <i>Giselle</i>, -originally staged, after the traditional production, by Anton Dolin, who -had joined the venture after an Australian stint with de Basil’s -Original Ballet Russe; <i>Swan Lake</i>, in the one-act version, also staged -by Dolin; Fokine’s masterpiece, <i>Les Sylphides</i>; the oldest ballet -extant, <i>La Fille Mal Gardée</i>, staged by Bronislava Nijinska; and Adolph -Bolm’s production of the children’s fairy tale, <i>Peter and the Wolf</i>, to -the popular Prokofieff orchestral work, with narrator.</p> - -<p>It was significant to me that the outstanding successes of that first -season were the classics. First, there was <i>Les Sylphides</i>, restored by -the master himself. This, coupled with Dolin’s <i>Swan Lake</i>, and -<i>Giselle</i>, constituted the backbone of the standard repertoire.</p> - -<p>The first four weeks’ season was, perhaps, as expensive a balletic -venture as New York has known, with the possible exception of the Ballet -International of the Marquis de Cuevas, some four years later.</p> - -<p>Following Ballet Theatre’s introductory burst of activity, there was a -hiatus, during which the company gave sporadic performances in -Philadelphia, some appearances at the Lewisohn Stadium in New York, and -appeared in Chicago in conjunction with the Chicago Opera Company.</p> - -<p>Before Ballet Theatre embarked on its second season, trouble was -cooking. There were indications Lucia Chase and Pleasant were not seeing -exactly eye to eye. The second New York season was announced to open at -the Majestic Theatre, on 11th February, 1941. Now the Majestic Theatre -is a far cry from the wide open spaces of the Center Theatre. It is the -house where I had given a brief and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_150">{150}</a></span> costly season with de Basil’s -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo in the early days, on a stage so small that -no justice can be done to dance or dancers, and where the capacity does -not admit of meeting expenses even when sold out.</p> - -<p>Pleasant’s newest idea, announced before the season opened, was to -present a “company.” There were to be no distinctions or classifications -of dancers. One of the time-honored institutions of ballet was also -abolished; there was no general stage director, or <i>régisseur-general</i>, -as he is known in the French terminology of ballet. Instead, the company -was divided, like all Gaul, into three parts, to be known as “Wings,” -with Anton Dolin in charge of the “Classic Wing”; Antony Tudor, of the -“English Wing”; Eugene Loring, of the “American Wing.” Five new works -were added to the repertoire, of which only two remain: Eugene Loring’s -<i>Billy the Kid</i>, to one of Aaron Copland’s finest scores, and Agnes de -Mille’s <i>Three Virgins and a Devil</i>, to Ottorino Respighi’s <i>Antiche -Danze ed Arie</i>. Dolin’s <i>Pas de Quatre</i>, produced at this time, has been -replaced in the company’s repertoire by another version.</p> - -<p>The differences between Pleasant and Chase came to a head, and the -former was forced to resign at the end of the four weeks’ season, which -resulted in more substantial losses.</p> - -<p>It was at this time that I was approached on behalf of the organization -by Charles Payne, seeking advice as to how to proceed. We lunched -together in Rockefeller Plaza, and while I am unable to state that the -final decision was wholly mine or that the terminal action was taken -exclusively on my advice, I counselled Payne that, in my opinion, the -only course for them to follow would be to close down the company -completely, place everything they owned into storage, and start afresh -after reorganization. Receipts at the box-office having fallen as low as -$319 a performance, there was no other choice. In any event, my advice -was followed.</p> - -<p>Reorganization was under way. In an organization of this magnitude and -complexity, reorganization was something that took a great deal of both -thought and time. It was by no means a simple matter. While the -reorganization was in its early, indecisive stages, with protracted -debates going on within the circle as to whether it should continue in -any form or fold its wings in the sleep everlasting, Anton Dolin came to -me to ask me to take over the management of the venture.</p> - -<p>This was not a thing to be regarded lightly. The situation in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_151">{151}</a></span> ballet in -general, and with the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe in particular, being as I -have described it, I was interested in and attracted by the potential -value of the company, if the proper sort of reorganization could be -effected. Their Chicago season had been a complete fiasco at the -box-office. There is a legend to the effect that, in an effort to -attract a few people into the Chicago Opera House, members of the -company stood outside the building as the office-workers from the -surrounding buildings wended their way homeward to the suburban trains, -passing out free tickets. The legend also has it that they managed to -get some of these free tickets into the hands of a local critic who was -one of the crowd.</p> - -<p>I do not wish to bore the reader with the details of all the debates -that highlighted those days. Sufficient is it to say that they were -crowded and that the nights were often sleepless.</p> - -<p>Anton Dolin was responsible for having German (“Gerry”) Sevastianov, no -longer associated with de Basil, appointed as managing director, in -succession to the resigned Pleasant.</p> - -<p>The negotiations commenced and were both long and involved between all -parties concerned which included discussion with Lucia Chase and her -attorney, Harry M. Zuckert. Matters were reaching a point where I felt a -glimmer of light could be detected, when a honeymoon intervened, due to -the marriage of Zuckert. Ballet waited for romance. Throughout the long -drawn-out discussions and negotiations, Zuckert was always pleasant, -cooperative, diplomatic, and evidenced a sincere desire to avoid any -friction.</p> - -<p>Among the first acts of Sevastianov, after taking over the directorship, -was to engage his wife, Irina Baronova, as a leading ballerina, together -with Antal Dorati, former musical director of the de Basil company, and -today the musical director of the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, to -direct and supervise the music of Ballet Theatre. Later, through the -good offices of Anton Dolin, Alicia Markova, whose contract with the -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo had terminated, became one of the two -<i>ballerine</i> of the company.</p> - -<p>The negotiations dragged on during the summer. Meanwhile, with the -company and its artists inactive, Markova and Dolin, on their own, -leased Jacob’s Pillow, the Ted Shawn farm and summer theatre in the -Berkshires, and gave a number of performances under the collective title -of International Dance Festival. This was a quite independent venture, -but Markova and Dolin peopled their season and school with the personnel -of Ballet Theatre.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_152">{152}</a></span></p> - -<p>This summer in the Berkshires had a two-fold effect on the company: -first, the members were thus able to work together as a unit; second, -with three choreographers in residence, it was possible for them to lay -out and develop the early groundwork of three works, subsequently to be -added to the Ballet Theatre repertoire: <i>Slavonika</i>, by Vania Psota; -<i>Princess Aurora</i>, by Anton Dolin; and <i>Pillar of Fire</i>, by Antony -Tudor.</p> - -<p>Two of these were major contributions; one was pretty hopeless. Dolin’s -<i>Princess Aurora</i> was a reworking of the last act of Tchaikowsky’s <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, a sort of <i>Aurora’s Wedding</i>, with the addition of the -<i>Rose Adagio</i>, giving the company another classic work that remains in -the company’s repertoire today, with some “innovations.” <i>Pillar of -Fire</i>, set to Arnold Schönberg’s <i>Verklärte Nacht</i>, revealed a new type -of dramatic ballet which, in many respects, may be said to be Tudor’s -masterpiece. <i>Slavonika</i> was set by the Czech Psota to a number of -Dvorak’s <i>Slavonic Dances</i>, and was an almost total loss, from every -point of view. The original version, as first produced, ran fifty-five -minutes. I thought it would never end. But, as the tour proceeded, it -was cut, and cut again. The last time I saw it was when I visited the -company in Toronto. Then it was blessedly cut down to six minutes. After -that, no further reduction seemed possible, and it was sent to the limbo -of the storehouse, never to be seen again.</p> - -<p>The deal between Ballet Theatre and myself was closed during the time -the company was working at Jacob’s Pillow, and I took over the company -in November, 1941. It might be of interest to note some of the chief -personnel of the company at that time. Among the women were: Alicia -Markova, Irina Baronova, Lucia Chase, Karen Conrad, Rosella Hightower, -Nora Kaye, Maria Karnilova, Jeanette Lauret, Annabelle Lyon, Sono Osato, -Nina Popova, and Roszika Sabo; among the men were: Anton Dolin, Ian -Gibson, Frank Hobi, John Kriza, Hugh Laing, Yurek Lasovsky, Nicolas -Orloff, Richard Reed, Jerome Robbins, Dmitri Romanoff, Borislav Runanin, -Donald Saddler, Simon Semenoff, George Skibine, and Antony Tudor, to -list them alphabetically, for the most part. Later, Alicia Alonso -returned to the organization. A considerable number had been brought as -a strengthening measure by Sevastianov.</p> - -<p>One of the company’s weaknesses was in its classical and romantic -departments. While there were Fokine’s <i>Les Sylphides</i> and <i>Carnaval</i>, I -felt more Fokine ballets were necessary to a balanced<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_153">{153}</a></span> repertoire. -Sevastianov engaged Fokine to re-stage <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i> and -<i>Petroushka</i>, and to create a new work for Anton Dolin and Irina -Baronova. Fokine started work on <i>Bluebeard</i>, to an Offenbach score, -arranged and orchestrated by Antal Dorati, with scenery and costumes by -Marcel Vertes.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, I lived up to my contract with the Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, and presented them, in the autumn of 1941, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, and subsequently on tour.</p> - -<p>In order to prepare the new works, Ballet Theatre went to Mexico City, -returning to New York to open at the Forty-fourth Street Theatre, on -12th November, 1941. In addition to the existing Ballet Theatre -repertoire, four works were added and had their first New York -performances: Psota’s <i>Slavonika</i>, and Dolin’s re-creation of <i>Princess -Aurora</i>, which I have mentioned, together with <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>, -and Bronislava Nijinska’s <i>The Beloved One</i>. The last was a revival of a -work originally done to a Schubert-Liszt score, arranged by Darius -Milhaud, for the Markova-Dolin Ballet in London. In the New York -production it had scenery and costumes by Nicolas de Molas. It was not a -success.</p> - -<p>The season was an uphill affair. Business was not good, but matters were -improving slightly, when we reached that fatal Sunday, the seventh of -December. Pearl Harbor night had less than $400 in receipts. The world -was at war. The battle to establish a new ballet company was paltry by -comparison. Nevertheless, our plans had been made; responsibilities had -been undertaken; there were human obligations to the artists, who -depended upon us for their livelihood; there were responsibilities to -local managers, who had booked us. There was a responsibility to the -public; for, in such times, I can conceive no reason why the cultural -entertainment world should stand still. It is a duty, I believe, to see -that it does not. In Russia, during the war, the work of the ballet was -intensified; in Britain, the Sadler’s Wells organization carried on, -giving performances throughout the country, in camps, in factories, in -fit-ups, as an aid to the morale both civilian and military. There could -be no question of our not going forward.</p> - -<p>Leaving New York, we played Boston, Philadelphia, a group of Canadian -cities, Chicago. With such a cast and repertoire, it was reasonable to -expect there would be large audiences. The expectation was not -fulfilled. The stumbling-block was the title: Ballet Theatre. The use of -the two terms—“ballet” and “theatre”—as a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_154">{154}</a></span> means of identifying the -combination of the balletic and theatrical elements involved in the -organization, is quite understandable, in theory. As a practical name -for an individual ballet company, it is utterly confusing and -frustrating. I am not usually given to harboring thoughts of -assassination, but I could murder the person who invented that title and -used it as the name for a ballet company. Ballet in America does not -exist exclusively on the support of the initiated ballet enthusiast, the -“balletomane”—to use a term common in ballet circles to describe the -ballet “fan.” The word “balletomane” itself is of Russian origin, a -coined word for which there is no literal translation. Ballet, in order -to exist, must draw its chief support from the mass of theatregoers, -from the general amusement-loving public, those who like to go to a -“show.” The casual theatregoer, when confronted with posters and a -marquee sign reading “Ballet Theatre,” finds himself confused, more -likely than not believing it to be the name of the theatre building -itself. My own experience and a careful survey has demonstrated this -conclusively.</p> - -<p>My losses in these days of Ballet Theatre were prodigious. Both Chase -and Sevastianov were aware of them. Other managements, in view of such -losses, might well have dropped the entire venture. In view of the heavy -deficits I was incurring and bearing single-handed, I felt some -assistance should be given.</p> - -<p>An understanding was reached whereby I agreed to reduce the number of -new productions to be furnished for the next season, in order that their -expenses might be minimized. In consideration of this a certain amount -was refunded. At that moment it was a help; but not a sufficient help to -reduce my losses to less than $60,000. As a matter of fact, the -agreement was beneficial to both sides. In my case, it temporarily eased -the burden of meeting a heavy weekly payroll at a time when there were -practically no receipts; as for Ballet Theatre, it substantially reduced -their investment in new productions.</p> - -<p>The continuing war presented additional problems. Personnel changes were -frequent on the male side of the company owing to the war-time draft. -There was an increasing demand for ballet; but a new uninformed, -uninitiated public was not in the market for ballet companies, but for -ballets—works about which they had somehow heard. I had two companies, -Ballet Theatre and the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, and I presented -them, one after the other, at the Metropolitan Opera House. In my -opinion, many of the problems<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_155">{155}</a></span> could have been solved by a merger of the -two groups, had such a thing been possible, thus preserving, I believe, -the best properties and qualities of each of them.</p> - -<p>During the spring of 1942, two new works were presented: Tudor’s <i>Pillar -of Fire</i>, on which he had been working for a long time, and Fokine’s -<i>Russian Soldier</i>. The latter was done at a time when we were all -thrilled by the tremendous effort the Russians were making in their -battles, their heroic battles, against the Nazi invader. In discussing -the idea with Fokine, himself Russian to the core, we emphasized the -symbolic intent of the tragedy, that of the simple Russian peasant who -sacrifices his life for his homeland. Although we of course did not -realize it at the time, this was to be the last work Fokine was to -complete in his long list of balletic creations. <i>Russian Soldier</i> had -some of the best settings and costumes ever designed by the Russian -painter, Mstislav Doboujinsky. For music, Fokine utilized the orchestral -suite devised by Serge Prokofieff from his score for the satirical film, -<i>Lieutenant Kije</i>, which was extremely effective as music, but with -which I was never entirely happy, since Prokofieff, the musical -satirist, had packed it with his own very personal brand of satire for -the satiric film for which the music was originally composed. At the -same time, I doubt that any substantial portion of the audience knew the -source of the music and detected the satire; the great majority found -the work a moving experience.</p> - -<p>Aside from being perhaps Tudor’s most important contribution to ballet, -<i>Pillar of Fire</i>—with its settings and costumes by Jo Mielziner, his -first contribution as a noted American designer to the ballet -stage—served to raise Nora Kaye from the rank and file of the original -company to an important position as a new type of dramatic <i>ballerina</i>.</p> - -<p>Leonide Massine, parting with the company he had built, joined Ballet -Theatre as dancer and choreographer before the company’s departure for a -second summer season at the Palacio des Bellas Artes in Mexico City, as -guests of the Mexican Government.</p> - -<p>In addition to performances there, the company used the Mexican period -as one of creation and rehearsal. Massine was in the midst of a creative -frenzy, working on two new ballets. One was <i>Don Domingo</i>, which had -some stunning scenery and costumes by the Mexican artist, Julio -Castellanos; an intriguing score by Sylvestre Revueltas; a Mexican -subject by Alfonso Reyes; <i>Don Domingo</i> was prompted by the sincere -desire to pay a tribute to the country south<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_156">{156}</a></span> of the border which had -played host to the company. That was Massine’s intention. Unfortunately, -the work did not jell, and was soon dropped from the repertoire.</p> - -<p>The other work was <i>Aleko</i>, which takes rank with some of the best of -Massine’s creations. It was a subject close to his heart and to mine, -the poetic Pushkin tale of the lad from the city and his tragic love for -the daughter of a gypsy chieftain, a love that brings him to two murders -and a banishment. As a musical base, Massine took the Trio for piano, -violin, and violoncello which Tchaikowsky dedicated “to the memory of a -great artist,” Nicholas Rubinstein, in an orchestration by Erno Rapee. -The whole thing was a fine piece of collaboration between Massine and -the surrealist painter, Marc Chagall; and the work was deeply moving, -finely etched, with a strong feeling for character.</p> - -<p>I have particularly happy memories of watching Chagall and his late wife -working in happy collaboration on the <i>Aleko</i> production in Mexico City. -While he busied himself with the scenery, she occupied herself with the -costumes. The result of this fine collaboration on the part of all the -artists concerned resulted in a great Russian work.</p> - -<p>The Ballet Theatre management was, to put it mildly, not in favour of -<i>Aleko</i>. It was a production on which I may be said to have insisted. -Fortunately, I was proved correct. Although it was dropped from the -repertoire not long after Ballet Theatre and I came to a parting of the -ways, it has now, ten years after its production, been crowned with -success in London. Presented at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, by -Ballet Theatre, in the summer of 1953, it has proved to be the -outstanding hit of their London season, both with press and public. I -cannot remember the unemotional and objective <i>Times</i> (London) waxing -more enthusiastic over a balletic work.</p> - -<p>During the Mexican hegira the company re-staged the Eugene Loring-Aaron -Copland <i>Billy the Kid</i>, still one of the finest American ballets, -although originally created in 1938. Certainly it is one of Copland’s -most successful theatre scores. Simon Semenoff also brought forth a -condensed and truncated version of Delibes’s <i>Coppélia</i>, as a vehicle -for Irina Baronova, with settings and costumes by Robert Montenegro. It -was not a success. It was a case of tampering with a classic; and I hold -firmly to the opinion that classics should not be subjected to tampering -or maltreatment. There is a special<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_157">{157}</a></span> hades reserved for those -choreographers who have the temerity to draw mustaches on portraits of -lovely ladies.</p> - -<p>Yet another Mexican creation that failed to meet the test of the stage -was <i>Romantic Age</i>, a ballet by Anton Dolin, to assorted music by -Vincenzo Bellini, in a setting and with costumes by Carlos Merida. An -attempt to capture some of the balletic atmosphere of the “romantic age” -in ballet, it was freely adapted from the idea of <i>Aglae, or The Pupil -of Love</i>, a work by Philippe Taglioni, dating back to 1841, originally a -vehicle of Marie Taglioni.</p> - -<p>Michel Fokine and his wife Vera were also with the company in Mexico -City, re-staging his masterpiece, <i>Petroushka</i>, and commencing a new -work, <i>Helen of Troy</i>, based on the Offenbach <i>opéra bouffe</i>, <i>La Belle -Hélene</i>. Unfortunately, Fokine was stricken with pleurisy and returned -to New York, only to die from pneumonia shortly after.</p> - -<p><i>Helen of Troy</i>, however, promised well and a substantial investment had -already been made in it. David Lichine was called in and worked with -Antal Dorati on the book, as Dorati worked on the Offenbach music, with -Lichine staging the work on tour after the Metropolitan Opera House -season in New York. Still later, when Vera Zorina appeared with the -company, George Balanchine restaged it for his wife. The final result -was presumably a long way from Fokine, but a version of it still remains -in the Ballet Theatre repertoire today.</p> - -<p>André Eglevsky joined the company during this season. Later on, Irina -Baronova, under doctor’s orders, left. Because there was no sound -artistic direction and no firm discipline in the company, I urged -Sevastianov to engage an experienced and able ballet-master and -<i>régisseur-general</i> in the person of Adolph Bolm, to be responsible for -the general stage direction, deportment, and the exercise of an artistic -discipline over the company’s dancers, particularly the dissident -elements in it, which made working with them exceedingly difficult at -times. Sevastianov discussed the matter with Miss Chase, who agreed. -Before accepting, Bolm telephoned me from California seeking my advice -and I could but urge him to accept because I felt this would go a long -way toward stabilizing the company artistically.</p> - -<p>It was at the close of the autumn season of 1942, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, that I bade good-bye to the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo and -Universal Art. There was a brief ceremony back-stage at the end of the -last performance. Denham and I both made<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_158">{158}</a></span> farewell speeches. It is -always a sad moment for me to leave a company for whose success I have -given so much of my time, my energy, and money. I felt this sadness -keenly as I took leave of the nice kids.</p> - -<p>The subsequent Ballet Theatre tour developed recurring headaches. They -were cumulative, piling up into one big headache, and it will be less -trying both to the reader and to myself to recount it later in one -place, at one time.</p> - -<p>With the spring of 1943, back we came to the Metropolitan for our spring -season. There was a managerial change. German Sevastianov went off to -war as a member of the United States Army, and J. Alden Talbot became -managing director in his stead. This began the period of the wisest -direction Ballet Theatre has known. Janet Reed joined the company as a -soloist, and Vera Zorina appeared as guest artist in <i>Helen of Troy</i>, -and in a revival of George Balanchine’s <i>Errante</i>. This was a work set -to the music of Schubert-Liszt, originally done for Tilly Losch for <i>Les -Ballets 1933</i>, in London, when Balanchine left de Basil, and one which -the American Ballet revived at the Adelphi Theatre, in New York, two -years later, with Tamara Geva. Balanchine also revived Stravinsky’s -<i>Apollon Musagète</i>, with André Eglevsky, Zorina, Nora Kaye, and Rosella -Hightower, to one of Stravinsky’s most moving scores.</p> - -<p>The other work was history-making. It was Antony Tudor’s <i>Romeo and -Juliet</i>. It was a work of great seriousness and fine theatrical -invention. On the opening night Tudor had not finished the ballet, -although he had been at it for months. It was too late to postpone the -<i>première</i>, so, after a good deal of persuading, it was agreed to -present it in its unfinished state. The curtain on the first performance -fell some twelve minutes before the end. I have told this tale in detail -in <i>Impresario</i>. The matter is historic. There is no point in laboring -it. Tudor is an outstanding creator in the field of modern ballet. -<i>Romeo and Juliet</i> is a monument to his creative gifts. The pity is that -it no longer can be given by Ballet Theatre, no longer seen by the -public, with its sharp characterization, its inviolate sense of period, -the tenseness of its drama sustained in the medium of the dance.</p> - -<p>Tudor’s original idea with <i>Romeo and Juliet</i> was to utilize the Serge -Prokofieff score for the successful Soviet ballet of the same title. -However, he found the Prokofieff score was unsuitable for his -choreographic ideas. He eventually decided on various works by the -English composer, Frederick Delius. Because of the war, it was found -impossible to secure this musical material from England. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_159">{159}</a></span>Consequently, -Antal Dorati, the musical director, orchestrated the entire work from -listening to gramophone recordings of the Delius pieces. How good a job -it was is testified by Sir Thomas Beecham, the long-time friend of -Delius and the redoubtable champion of the composer’s music. I engaged -Sir Thomas to conduct a number of performances of <i>Romeo and Juliet</i> at -the Metropolitan Opera House, and he was amazed by the orchestration, -commenting, “Astounding! Perfectly astounding! It is precisely as -written by my late friend.”</p> - -<p>The list of Beechamiana is long; but here is one more item which I -believe has the virtue of freshness. I should like to record an incident -of Sir Thomas’s first orchestral rehearsal of <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>. As I -recall it, this rehearsal had to be sandwiched in between a broadcast -concert rehearsal Sir Thomas had to make and the actual orchestral -broadcast to which he was committed. There was no time to spare. Our -orchestra was awaiting him at their places in the Metropolitan pit. The -rehearsal was concise, to the point, with few stoppings or corrections -on Sir Thomas’s part. At the conclusion, Sir Thomas looked the men over -with a pontifical eye. Then he addressed them as follows: “Ladies and -gentlemen. I happen to be one of those who believes music speaks its own -language, and that words about it are usually a waste of time and -effort. However, a word or two at this juncture may not be amiss.... I -happened to know the late composer, Mr. Delius, intimately. I am also -intimately acquainted with his music. I have only one suggestion, -gentlemen. Tonight, when we play this music for this alleged ballet, if -you will be so good as to confine yourselves to the notes as written by -my late friend, Mr. Delius, and not <i>improvise</i> as you have done this -afternoon, I assure you the results will be much more satisfactory.... -Thank you very much.” And off he went.</p> - -<p>That night the orchestra played like angels. The ballet was in its -second season when I invited Sir Thomas to take over the performances. -It was a joy to have him in command of the forces. Too little attention -is accorded the quality of the orchestra and the conductor in ballet. -Quite apart from the musical excellence itself, few people realize of -what tremendous value a good conductor and a good orchestra can be to -ballet as a whole. <i>Romeo and Juliet</i> never had such stage performances -as those when Sir Thomas was in charge. And this is not said in -disparagement of other conductors. Not only was the Beecham orchestral -tone beautifully transparent, but Sir Thomas blended stage action and -music so completely that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_160">{160}</a></span> the results were absolutely unique. The -company responded nobly to the inspiration. It was during this season, -endeavoring to utilize every legitimate means to stimulate interest on -the part of the public that, in addition to Sir Thomas and various guest -dancing stars, I also brought Igor Stravinsky from California to conduct -his own works during the Metropolitan Opera House engagement.</p> - -<p>For the sake of the record, let me briefly cite the chronological -tabulation of Ballet Theatre through the period of my management. In the -autumn of 1943, at the Metropolitan Opera House, there were three new -productions, one each by Massine, Tudor, and David Lichine: -<i>Mademoiselle Angot</i>, <i>Dim Lustre</i>, and <i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i>.</p> - -<p>Massine took the famous operetta by Charles Lecocq, <i>La Fille de Mme. -Angot</i>, and in a series of striking sets by Mstislav Doboujinsky, turned -it into a ballet, which, for some reason, failed to strike fire. It is -interesting to note that when, some years later, Massine produced the -work for Sadler’s Wells at Covent Garden, it was a considerable success. -Tudor’s <i>Dim Lustre</i>, despite the presence of Nora Kaye, Rosella -Hightower, Hugh Laing, and Tudor himself in the cast, was definitely -second-rate Tudor. Called by its creator a “psychological episode,” this -sophisticated Edwardian story made use of Richard Strauss’s <i>Burleske</i>, -an early piano concerto of the composer’s, with a set and costumes by -the Motley sisters. Lichine’s <i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i> was a ballet on a -Ukrainian folk tale straight out of Gogol, with Moussorgsky music, -including a witches’ sabbath to the <i>Night on a Bald Mountain</i>, with -settings and costumes by Nicolas Remisoff. It was an addition to the -repertoire, if only for the performance of Dolin as Red Coat, the Devil -of the Ukraine, who danced typically Russian Cossack toe-steps and made -toe-pirouettes. Had the Cossack “Colonel” de Basil seen this, he would, -I am sure, have envied Dolin for once in his life. While <i>Fair at -Sorotchinsk</i> did not have a unanimously favorable reception at the hands -of the press, it was generally liked by the public, as evidenced by the -response at the box-office.</p> - -<p>After the 1943-1944 tour, two more works were added during the spring -season at the Metropolitan Opera House, two sharply contrasted works by -American choreographers: Jerome Robbins and Agnes de Mille. Robbins’s -<i>Fancy Free</i> was a smash hit, a remarkable comedy piece of American -character in a peculiarly native idiom. As a result of this work, -Robbins leapt into fame exactly as Agnes de Mille had done a couple of -years before as the result of her delight<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_161">{161}</a></span>ful <i>Rodeo</i>. <i>Fancy Free</i> was -a collaborative work between Robbins and the brilliant young composer -and conductor, Leonard Bernstein, whose score was as much of a hit as -was the ballet itself. Bernstein’s conducting of the orchestra was also -a telling factor, for his dynamism and buoyancy was transmitted to the -dancers.</p> - -<p>Agnes de Mille’s work, <i>Tally-Ho</i>, was in a much different mood from her -<i>Rodeo</i>. From present-day America, she leapt backwards to the France of -Louis XVI, for a period farce-comedy, set to Gluck melodies, -re-orchestrated by Paul Nordoff. The settings and costumes, in the style -of Watteau, were by the Motleys, who had decorated her earlier <i>Three -Virgins and a Devil</i>. Combining old world elegance with bawdy humor, -<i>Tally-Ho</i> had both charm and fun, and although the company worked its -hardest and at its very best for Agnes, and although she put her very -soul into it, it was not the success that had been hoped.</p> - -<p>Only one <i>première</i> marked the autumn season at the Metropolitan. It was -one done by Balanchine, called <i>Waltz Academy</i>, the first work he had -created for Ballet Theatre, in contrast to numerous revivals I have -mentioned. It was not a very good ballet, static in effect, although -classical in style. Its setting was a reproduction of the ballet room at -the Paris Opera, by Oliver Smith. The music was a dry orchestration of -dance melodies, largely waltzes, by Vittorio Rieti, who composed a pair -of latter-day Diaghileff works. A ballet that could have been -entertaining and lively, just missed being either.</p> - -<p>The lack of new works and the necessity to stimulate public interest -made it necessary to add guest stars, particularly since Markova and -Dolin had left the company to appear in Billy Rose’s revue, <i>The Seven -Lively Arts</i>. Consequently, Tamara Toumanova, Tatiana Riabouchinska, -David Lichine, and André Eglevsky made guest appearances.</p> - -<p>The subsequent tour compounded internal complications until the only -ameliorating feature of my association was the wise and understanding -cooperation of J. Alden Talbot, who was, I knew, on the verge of -resigning his post, for reasons not entirely different from my own in -considering writing a book to be called <i>To Hell with Ballet!</i></p> - -<p>On tour, during 1944-1945, Tudor rehearsed the only new work to be -offered during the 1945 spring season at the Metropolitan. It was -<i>Undertow</i>, the story of an adolescent’s neurosis, suggested to Tudor by -the well-known playwright, John van Druten. It was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_162">{162}</a></span> packed with symbols, -Freudian and otherwise; and my own reaction to its murky tale dealing -with an Oedipus complex, a bloody bitch, a lecherous old man’s affair -with a whore, a mad wedding, a group of drunken charwomen, a rape of a -nasty little girl by four naughty little boys, and a shocking murder, -was one of revulsion. The score was specially commissioned from the -present head of the Juilliard School, the American William Schuman. The -settings and costumes, as depressing as the work itself, were by the -Chicago painter, Raymond Breinin.</p> - -<p>The rigors of war-time ballet travel were considerable, a constant -battle to arrive on time, to be able to leave in time to arrive in time -at the next city. Each day presented a new problem. But it had its comic -side as well. We had played the Pacific Northwest and, after an -engagement in Portland, there followed the most important engagement of -the west thus far, that at the War Memorial Opera House, in San -Francisco.</p> - -<p>There was immense difficulty in getting the company and its properties -out of Portland at all. It should be remembered, and there is no harm -pointing out that the entire railway transportation system of our -country from Portland, Oregon, in the far Northwest, to New Orleans, in -the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, is in the hands of a single railway, -thousands of miles of it single-track line, with no competition, and -thus a law unto itself. For a long time, during this particular tour, -this railway insisted, because of military commitments, it could not -handle the company and its baggage cars from Portland to San Francisco -in time for the first performance there.</p> - -<p>The reader should know that there are no reduced fares or concessions -for theatrical or ballet companies. First-class fares are paid, and full -rates for Pullmans and food. My representative, with a broad experience -in these matters, continued to battle, and it was eventually arranged -that the company would be attached in “tourist” coaches to a troop train -bound for the south, but with no dining facilities for civilians and no -provision for food or drink. At least, it would get them to San -Francisco in time for the opening performance.</p> - -<p>So, the rickety tourist cars were attached to the troop train and the -journey commenced. The artists were carefully warned by my -representative that this was a troop train, that no food would be -available, and that each member of the company should provide himself -enough food and beverage for the journey.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_163">{163}</a></span></p> - -<p>At daybreak of the next morning, cold and dismal, the train stopped at a -junction point in the Cascades to add a locomotive for the long haul -over the “divide.” Opposite the station was a “diner.” Twelve members of -the company, including four principal artists, in nightclothes—pyjamas, -nightgowns, kimonos, bed-slippers, with lightweight coats wrapped round -them—insisted on getting down from the train and crossing to the little -“diner” for “breakfast.”</p> - -<p>Our company manager warned them not to leave the train; told them that -there would be no warning, no signal, since this was not a passenger -train but a troop train, and that they risked missing the train -altogether. He begged, pleaded, ordered—to no avail. Off they went in -the cold of the dawn, in the scantiest of nightclothes.</p> - -<p>Silently and without warning, as the manager had foretold, the train -pulled out, leaving a dozen, including four leading artists, behind in -an Oregon tank town without clothes or tickets.</p> - -<p>By dint of a dozen telephone calls and as many telegrams, the -nightgown-clad D.P.’s were picked up by a later train. After fourteen -hours in day coaches, crowded with regular passengers, they arrived at -the San Francisco Ferry, still in their nightclothes, thirty minutes -before curtain time; they were whisked in taxis to the War Memorial -Opera House. The curtain rose on time. The evening was saved.</p> - -<p>It had its amusing side. It was one of the many hardships of wartime -touring, merely one of the continuous headaches, although a shade on the -unusual side. It was also yet another example of the utter lack of -discipline and consideration in the company, and of the stubborn refusal -of some of its members to cooperate in the cause of a fine art.</p> - -<p>Another of the many incidents having to do with the difficulties of -war-time touring was one in Augusta, Georgia, where no hotel or other -housing accommodations could be found, due to the war-time overcrowding.</p> - -<p>Most of the company slept, as best they could, in the railway station or -in the public park. It is recorded that Alicia Markova spent the night -sleeping on the sidewalk in the entrance-way to a grocer’s shop, wrapped -in newspapers and a cloak by the company manager, while that guardian -angel spent the night sitting on the edge of an adjoining -vegetable-stand, watching over her, smoking an endless chain of -cigarettes.</p> - -<p>This attitude was but an indication of the good sportsmanship<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_164">{164}</a></span> the -youngsters evidenced on more than one occasion, proving that, <i>au fond</i>, -they were, on the whole, good “troupers.”</p> - -<p>While I had been prepared for the departure from the company of J. Alden -Talbot, I was saddened, nevertheless, when he left. Lucia Chase and the -scene designer, Oliver Smith, became joint managing directors, with the -result that there was precious little management and even less -direction. We played a summer season in California, at the War Memorial -Opera House in San Francisco, in conjunction with the City’s Art -Commission, and at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles. In Hollywood we -rehearsed some of the new works to be given in New York in the autumn. -They were five in number, and unequal both in quality and appeal. Only -one was a real success. The five works were by an equal number of -choreographers: Simon Semenoff, Michael Kidd, John Taras, Jerome -Robbins, and Adolph Bolm.</p> - -<p>Semenoff’s work, <i>Gift of the Magi</i>, was an attempt to make a ballet out -of O. Henry’s little short story of the same title, a touching tale of -the pathos of a young married couple with taste and no money. For the -ballet, young Lukas Foss wrote a workmanlike score, and Raoul Péne du -Bois supplied a great deal of scenery, difficult to manipulate. Nora -Kaye and John Kriza, as the young lovers, gave it a sweetness of -characterization. But, despite scenery, costumes, properties, and sweet -characterization, there was no real choreography, and the work soon left -the repertoire.</p> - -<p>Michael Kidd’s first choreographic attempt for Ballet Theatre, and his -first full-scale work as a matter of fact, was a theatre piece. A -musical comedy type of work, it never seemed really to belong in a -ballet repertoire. Kidd called it <i>On Stage!</i> For it Norman dello Joio -provided a workable and efficient score, and Oliver Smith designed a -back-stage scene that looked like back-stage. The costumes were designed -by Alvin Colt.</p> - -<p>Another first choreographic effort was young John Taras’s <i>Graziana</i>, -for which I paid the costs. Here was no attempt to ape the Broadway -musical comedy theatre. It was a straightforward, fresh, classical -piece. Taras had set the work to a Violin Concerto by Mozart. He used a -concise group of dancers, seventeen all told, four of whom were -soloists. There was no story, simply dancing with no excuses, no -apologies, no straining for “novelty,” tricks, stunts, or gags. It was, -in effect, ballet, and the public liked it. Just what the title meant I -never knew. My guess is that Taras had to call it something, and -<i>Graziana</i> was better than Number One.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_165">{165}</a></span></p> - -<p>The Robbins work came directly from Broadway, or the Avenue of the -Americas, to be precise. It was called <i>Interplay</i>, and had originally -been done for a variety show at the Ziegfeld Theatre. It was Robbins’s -second work. It was merely a piece of athletic fun. It was a genuine -hit. For music it had Morton Gould’s <i>Interplay Between Piano and -Orchestra</i>, which he had originally written for a commercial radio -programme as a brief concert piece for José Iturbi, with orchestra. The -“interplay” in the dance was that between classical dance and “jive.” -Actually what emerged was a group of kids having a lot of fun. For once, -in a long while, I could relax and smile when I saw it, for this was a -period when I had little time for relaxation and even less cause to -smile.</p> - -<p>The production of Stravinsky’s <i>Firebird</i> is something with which I -shall deal separately. There was still another season to tour and a -spring season at the Metropolitan Opera House, in 1946. In outlining the -productions and chronology of Ballet Theatre during this period, I have -tried to be as objective as possible so that the organization’s public -history may be a matter of record. Its private history, in so far as my -relations are concerned, is quite another matter.</p> - -<p>The troubles, the differences, the discussions, the intrigues of de -Basil and his group, of Universal Art were, for the most part, all of a -piece. I cannot say I ever got used to them, but I was prepared for -them. I knew pretty much the pattern they would follow, pretty much what -to expect. Being forewarned, I was forearmed. With Ballet Theatre I had -expected something different. Here I was not dealing with the -involutions and convolutions of the Cossack and the Slavic mind. Here, I -felt, would be an American approach. If, as a long-time American, I felt -I knew anything about the American people, one of their most distinctive -and noteworthy characteristics was their honesty of approach, their -straightforwardness, directness, frankness. Alas, I was filled with -disillusionment on this point. Ballet Theatre, in its approach to any -problem where I was concerned, had a style very much its own: full of -queer tricks, evasions, omissions, and unexpected twists of mind and -character, as each day disclosed them.</p> - -<p>There were two chief bones of contention. One was the billing. I have -pointed out the lack of public interest in Ballet Theatre when I took it -over and how the very title worked to its disadvantage. If ballet is to -remain a great, universal entertainment in this country, and is, by the -purchase of tickets at the box-office, to help pay its<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_166">{166}</a></span> own way, at -least in part, we must have a great mass audience as well as “devotees.”</p> - -<p>The other bone of contention, and the one which eventually caused the -rupture of our association, was the matter of guest artists. The -opposition to guest artists was maintained on an almost hysterical -level. There were, as in every discussion, two sides to the question. -Reasonably stated, Lucia Chase’s argument could have been that Ballet -Theatre was an organic whole; that it was an instrument with the -sensitivity of a symphony orchestra, and “stars” damaged such a -conception. As a matter of fact, it was her basic argument. The -argument, plausible enough on the surface, does not, however, stand up -under examination, for the comparison with a symphony orchestra does not -hold.</p> - -<p>Lacking the foresight and wisdom to keep the members of her company -under contract, each season there were presented to Miss Chase a flock -of new faces, new talents, unfamiliar with the repertoire, trained in a -variety of schools with a corresponding variety of styles; it took them -months to become a fully functioning and completely integrated part of -Miss Chase’s “organic whole.” Great symphony orchestras hold their -players together jealously year after year. Great symphony orchestras -manage to reduce their colossal deficits to some extent by the -engagement of distinguished soloists to appear with their “organic -wholes.” Such is the present state of musical appreciation in this -country that it is an open secret that in many cities the way to sell -out, or nearly sell out the house, is to engage soloists with box-office -appeal. I do not here refer to such great symphonic bodies as the Boston -Symphony Orchestra, the Philadelphia Orchestra, the New York -Philharmonic-Symphony Orchestra, but I do refer to those symphonic -bodies in those many cities that are something less than metropolitan -centers. Nor do I mean to suggest that this situation is one to be -commended or applauded, or that it represents the ultimate desired -<i>raison d’être</i> for the existence of a symphony orchestra. But I do -suggest it is the only system feasible in the perilous situation today -in which our symphonic bodies are compelled to operate.</p> - -<p>The analogy between ballet and symphony in this view is not apposite. -Again there was no attempt on Miss Chase’s part to understand the -situation; there was merely stubborn, unrelenting opposition after -recrimination. It should be recorded that J. Alden Talbot during his -tenure as general manager of Ballet Theatre fully realized and -understood the situation and shared my feelings. I remember<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_167">{167}</a></span> one day in -Montreal when I had a conference with Lucia Chase to go over the entire -matter of guest artists. I listened patiently to her mounting hysteria. -I pointed out that, as the company became better known throughout the -country, as the quality of public ballet appreciation improved, the -company of youngsters might be able to stand on their own <i>pointes</i>; but -that, since the company and its personnel were as yet unknown, it would -require infinite time, patience, and money to build them up in the -consciousness of the public; and that, meanwhile, at this point in the -company’s existence, the guest stars gave a much needed fillip to the -organization, and that, to put it bluntly, they were a great relief to -some of the public, at any rate; for the great public has always liked -guest stars and some local managements have insisted on them; of that -the box-office had the proof. It was my contention that the guest star -principle had been responsible for American interest in ballet. I hope -the reader will pardon me if I link that system, coupled with my own -love, enthusiasm, and faith in ballet, with the popularity that ballet -has in this country today. There is such a thing as an unbecoming -modesty, and I dislike wearing anything that is unbecoming.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>TAMARA TOUMANOVA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>It was during the 1945-1946 season, for example, that I engaged Tamara -Toumanova as a guest artist. In addition to appearing in <i>Swan Lake</i>, -<i>Les Sylphides</i>, and various classical <i>pas de deux</i>, I had Bronislava -Nijinska stage a short work she called <i>Harvest Time</i>, to the music of -Henri Wieniawski, orchestrated by Antal Dorati, in which Toumanova -appeared with John Kriza, supported by a small <i>corps de ballet</i>. The -association, I fear, was not too happy for any of us, including the -“Black Pearl.” There was a resentment towards her on the part of some of -the artists, and Toumanova, over-anxious to please, almost literally -danced her head off; but the atmosphere was not conducive to her best -work.</p> - -<p>Having watched Toumanova from childhood, knowing her as I do, it is not -easy, nor is it a simple matter for me to draw an objective portrait of -her, as she is today. One thing I shall <i>not</i> do, and that is to go very -deeply into biographical background. That she was born in a box-car in -Siberia, while her parents were escaping into China from the Russian -Revolution, is a tale too often told—as are the stories of her -beginnings as a dancer in Paris with Olga Preobrajen<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_168">{168}</a></span>ska, and an -appearance at the Paris Trocadero on a Pavlova programme, at the age of -five or so.</p> - -<p>It was her father, Vadim Boretszky-Kasadevich, who called a temporary -halt to the child prodigy business, by insisting that dance be suspended -for a year until she could do some school work.</p> - -<p>Discovered at Preobrajenska’s school by George Balanchine, he placed her -with the de Basil company, and for a half-dozen years she remained -there, save for a brief interlude with Balanchine’s short-lived <i>Les -Ballets 1933</i>.</p> - -<p>It was that same year that I brought the de Basil company to America the -first time, where she joined the trinity of “baby ballerinas”—Baronova -and Riabouchinska, of course, being the other two. It is a matter of -history how Toumanova became the American rotogravure editors’ delight; -how America became Toumanova-conscious.</p> - -<p>Strong, remarkably strong though her technique was even in those days, -her performances were frequently uneven. Toumanova was a temperamental -dancer then, as now, and to those who know only her svelte, slender, -mature beauty of today, there may be some wonder that in those days she -had to fight a recurring tendency towards <i>embonpoint</i>, and excessive -<i>embonpoint</i>. But there were always startling brilliancies. In <i>Jeux -d’Enfants</i> and <i>Cotillon</i>, I remember the dazzling <i>fouetées</i>. It is one -of Toumanova’s boasts that she was the first dancer to do thirty-two -double <i>fouetées</i> and sixteen triples in actual performance. I am not an -authority on these technical matters and can, therefore, merely record -the statement.</p> - -<p>Her unsuccessful Broadway appearance (a musical called <i>Stars in Your -Eyes</i>) was followed by a reunion with the de Basil Company in Australia -and a short season with him at the Hollywood Theatre, in New York; and -there was a later sojourn with the Massine Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. -Then Hollywood beckoned. There was one film in which she played an -acting part, <i>Days of Glory</i>. The picture was certainly not much to talk -about, but she married the producer-writer, Casey Robinson.</p> - -<p>Since then, she has turned up as guest-artist with one organization -after another: the Paris Opera Ballet, the Marquis de Cuevas company, -Anton Dolin’s Festival Ballet in London, the San Francisco Civic Ballet; -a nomadic balletic existence, interrupted by another Hollywood film -appearance, this time in the role of Pavlova in <i>Tonight We Sing</i>, based -on my earlier book, <i>Impresario</i>.</p> - -<p>As a person there is something about her that is at once naive<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_169">{169}</a></span> and -ingenuous and, at the same time, deep and grave and tragic. She cries -still when she is happy, and is also able to cry when she is sad. She -adores to be praised; but, unlike some other dancers I know, she is also -anxious for criticism. She solicits it. And when she feels the criticism -is sound, she does her best to correct—at least for the moment—the -faults that have prompted it. Her devotion to her -mother—“Mamochka”—herself an attractive, voluble, and highly emotional -woman, is touching and sometimes a shade pathetic. Toumanova’s whole -life, career, and story have been, for the most part, the -thrice-familiar tale of the White Russian <i>émigré</i>. Like all <i>émigré</i> -stories, hers is extremely sentimental. Sentiment and sentimentality -play a big part in Tamara’s life.</p> - -<p>She is, I feel, unbreakable, unquenchable. She is, in her maturity, even -more beautiful than she was as a “baby ballerina.” She is, I suppose, -precisely the popular conception of what a glamorous <i>ballerina</i> is, or -at least should be. Her personality is that of a complete theatrical -extrovert. The last row of the gallery is her theatre target. Hers is -not a subtle personality. It is a sort of motion picture idea of a -<i>ballerina assoluta</i>, a sort of reincarnation of the fascinating -creatures from whose carriages adoring balletomanes unhitched the horses -and hauled them to Maxim’s for supper, dining the course of which the -creatures were toasted in vintage champagne drunk from slippers. It -doesn’t really matter that her conception is a bit dated. With Toumanova -it is effective.</p> - -<p>Tamara’s conception of the ballerina in these terms is deliberate. She -admits her desire is to smash the audience as hard as she can. With her -a straight line is veritably the shortest distance between two points, -and no <i>ballerina</i> makes the distance between herself and her audience -so brief. This conception has been known to lead to overacting and to -the ignoring of the colleagues with whom she is dancing at the time.</p> - -<p>There is with her, as ever, great charm, an eager enthusiasm, and I am -happy to say, a fine sense of loyalty. This is a quality I particularly -appreciate. It has been shown to me on more than one occasion. When I -brought the Paris Opera Ballet for the New York City Festival, Tamara -was not nor had she been at that time a member of the Paris Opera -Company. She barely knew Lifar, yet it was she who became his champion -in New York. It was a calculated risk to her career which she took, -because she respected Lifar as an artist, did not believe the stories -about him, and was interested in fair play.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_170">{170}</a></span></p> - -<p>As I watch Toumanova today, I see but an extension in time, space and -years of the “baby ballerina” in her adult personality; there is still -an extravagant and dazzling glamor; there is still steely technique; -there is still a childlike naivete about her, even when she tries to be -ever so sophisticated; everything about her is still dramatic and -dramatized. And there is still “Mamochka,” in constant attendance, -helping, criticizing, urging; and although Tamara has been happily -married for a decade or so, “Mamochka” is still the watchdog. Many -ballet “mamas” are not only difficult, but some of them are overtly -disliked. Toumanova’s mother is another category. She has been at all -times a fine and constructive help to Tamara, both with practical -assistance and theoretical advice.</p> - -<p>Tamara’s approach to the dance is beautiful to observe. Her devotion to -ballet amounts almost to a religion. Nothing under the sun is more -important to her than her work, her attendance at lessons. Nothing ever -is permitted to interfere with these.</p> - -<p>I firmly believe that such is her concentration and devotion to her work -that, if a fire were to break out back-stage during a performance while -Tamara was in the midst of her fabulous <i>fouetées</i>, she would continue -with them, completely unperturbed, more intent on <i>fouetées</i> than on -fire.</p> - -<p>The Montreal discussions with the Ballet Theatre direction on the -subject of guest stars produced no understanding of the situation; only -the tiresomely reiterated, “It’s a sacrilege! It’s a crime!”</p> - -<p>What was a “crime” then, was a sheer necessity. Let us look, for a -moment, at the Ballet Theatre situation today, after it is no longer -under my management, but entirely on its own, responsible for its own -destiny. During the last year of our association, following the -resignation of J. Alden Talbot as managing director, as I have pointed -out, Lucia Chase, who pays the bills, and Oliver Smith became joint -managing directors. They were running the company when we came to a -parting of the ways. It was they who protested most bitterly over the -guest-star system. Now, with the company, after thirteen years of -existence, presumably established, Miss Chase is firmly perpetrating the -same “crime” herself. I certainly do not object to it. But surely what -was a “sacrilege,” what was a “crime” at the time I was responsible for -their perpetration, must, now that the Ballet Theatre is on its own, no -longer be either sacrilegious or criminal.</p> - -<p>Another recurring trouble source and the cause of many a con<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_171">{171}</a></span>tentious -discussion was the question of new productions. The arguments and -conferences over them were seemingly endless. Now the question of new -productions is one of the most vital and important in ballet management, -and one of the most pressing. All ballet management contracts call for a -ballet company to supply a certain number of new works each year. The -reason for this is that there must be a constant flow of new ballets in -a repertoire in order to attract the attention of both the critics and -the public. Standard works form the core of any repertoire and at least -one is necessary on every programme. But ballet itself, in order to keep -from becoming stagnant, must refresh itself by constantly expanding its -repertoire. Frequently, in contrast to the undying classics, nothing can -be deader than last years “novelty.” My contractual arrangement provides -that the management shall have the right either to accept or reject new -work as being acceptable or otherwise.</p> - -<p>As time went on, many of the new works produced, some of which were -accepted by me against my sounder judgment, proved, as I feared, to be -unacceptable to the general public throughout the country. It should be -clearly understood that ballet cannot live on New York alone. America is -a large continent, and the hinterland audiences, while lacking, perhaps, -some of the quality of sophistication of metropolitan audiences, are -highly selective and quite as critical today as are their New York -counterparts. A New York success is by no means an assurance of a like -reception in Kalamazoo or Santa Barbara. Ballet needs both Santa Barbara -and Kalamazoo, as it needs New York. The building of repertoire should -be the joint task of the company direction and the management—since -their desired ends are the same, viz., the successful continuation of -the organization. Repertoire is a responsible and exceedingly demanding -task.</p> - -<p>It certainly required no clairvoyance on my part to discern a very -definite antagonism toward any repertoire suggestions I offered. Certain -types of ballets were badly needed and were not forthcoming. Perhaps I -can most clearly illustrate my point by recapitulating the Ballet -Theatre repertoire at the time we parted company.</p> - -<p>There were: Fokine’s heritage—<i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Carnaval</i>, (no longer -in repertoire), <i>Petroushka</i> (no longer in repertoire), <i>Spectre de la -Rose</i> (no longer in repertoire), plus two creations, <i>Bluebeard</i>, and -<i>Russian Soldier</i> (no longer in repertoire). Andrée Howard had staged -<i>Death and the Maiden</i> and <i>Lady Into Fox</i> (both dropped before I took -over the company). Bronislava Nijinska had revived <i>La<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_172">{172}</a></span> Fille Mal -Gardée</i> and <i>The Beloved One</i> (no longer in the repertoire). Anton Dolin -had revived <i>Swan Lake</i>, <i>Giselle</i> (now performed in a Balanchine -version), <i>Princess Aurora</i> (now touched up by Balanchine), and had -created <i>Quintet</i> (dropped after the first season), <i>Capriccioso</i> -(dropped in the second season), <i>Pas de Quatre</i> (now done in a version -by Keith Lester), and <i>Romantic Age</i> (no longer in the repertoire). -Leonide Massine had revived <i>The Fantastic Toy Shop</i>, <i>Capriccio -Espagnol</i>, and <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i> (all out of repertoire). He had -produced three new works, <i>Don Domingo</i>, <i>Aleko</i>, and <i>Mlle. Angot</i>, -none of which was retained in the repertoire. Antony Tudor had revived -<i>The Lilac Garden</i>, <i>Judgment of Paris</i>, <i>Dark Elegies</i>, <i>Gala -Performance</i>, and had produced <i>Pillar of Fire</i>, <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, -<i>Dim Lustre</i>, and <i>Undertow</i>, none of which remain. Agnes de Mille had -produced <i>Black Ritual</i>, <i>Three Virgins and a Devil</i>, and <i>Tally-Ho</i>, -none of which is actively in the repertoire. José Fernandez had produced -a Spanish work, <i>Goyescas</i>, which lasted only the first season. David -Lichine had revived <i>Graduation Ball</i>, and had produced <i>Helen of Troy</i> -and <i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i> (the latter no longer in repertoire). Adolph -Bolm had revived his <i>Ballet Mecanique</i> (first season life only), -produced <i>Peter and the Wolf</i>, a perennial stand-by, and the short-lived -version of <i>Firebird</i>. John Taras had contributed <i>Graziana</i>, and Simon -Semenoff a version of <i>Coppélia</i> and <i>Gift of the Magi</i>, neither of the -three existing today. Jerome Robbins’s <i>Fancy Free</i> and <i>Interplay</i> -remain while his <i>Facsimile</i> has been forgotten. Balanchine had revived -<i>Apollo</i>, <i>Errante</i>, and had produced <i>Waltz Academy</i>, all of which have -disappeared.</p> - -<p>In order to save the curious reader the trouble of any computation, this -represents a total of fifty-one ballets either produced during my -association with Ballet Theatre or else available at the time we joined -hands. From this total of fifty-one, a round dozen are performed, more -or less, today. A cursory glance will reveal that the repertoire was -always deficient in classical works. They are the backbone of ballet. It -is to be regretted that the Tudor ballets, which were the particular -glory of Ballet Theatre, have been lost to the public.</p> - -<p>I shall not labor the point of our differences, save to cite one work as -an example. That is the production of <i>Firebird</i>. This was the first -Stravinsky ballet for Diaghileff, and was first revealed in Fokine’s -original production at the Paris Opera in the Diaghileff season of 1910, -with Tamara Karsavina in the title role, Fokine himself as the handsome -Tsarevich, Enrico Cecchetti as the fearsome Kastchei, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_173">{173}</a></span> Vera Fokina -as the beautiful Tsarevna whom the Tsarevich marries at the end. In -later productions Adolph Bolm took Fokine’s place as the Tsarevich. The -original settings and costumes were by Golovine. For a later Diaghileff -revival the immensely effective production by Nathalie Gontcharova was -created. This was the production revealed here by the de Basil company, -a quite glorious spectacle.</p> - -<p><i>Firebird</i> had always been a popular work when well done. From a musical -point of view it has been one of the most popular works in the -Stravinsky catalogue, both in orchestral programmes and over the radio. -One of the surest ways to attract the public to ballet is through -musical works of established popularity. This does not mean works that -are cheap or vulgar, for vulgarity and popularity are by no stretch of -the imagination synonymous: it means <i>Swan Lake</i>, <i>The Nutcracker</i>, <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, <i>Schéhérazade</i>, <i>Coppélia</i>, <i>Petroushka</i>, -<i>Firebird</i>—I mention only a few—the music of which has become -familiar, well-known, and loved through the medium of radio and -gramophone recordings. This is the music that brings people to ballets -of which it is a part.</p> - -<p>Miss Chase was flatly opposed to <i>Firebird</i>. Her co-director had no -choice but to follow her lead. I was insistent that <i>Firebird</i> be given -as one of the new productions required under our contract for the season -1945-1946; and then the trouble began in earnest.</p> - -<p>There were various dissident elements in the Ballet Theatre -organization, as there are in all ballet companies. These elements had -no very clear idea of what they wanted, or for what they stood. Their -vision was cloudy, their aims vague, their force puny. The company -lacked not only any artistic policy, but also a managing director -capable of formulating one, and able to mould these various dissident -elements into what Miss Chase liked to call her “organic whole.”</p> - -<p>With the exception of J. Alden Talbot and German Sevastianov, there had -never been a managing director or manager worthy of the title or the -post. During the Talbot regime, my relations with the Ballet Theatre -were at their highest level. I always found Talbot helpful, -understanding towards our mutual problems, cooperative, of assistance in -many ways. Because of his belief in the organization and his genuine -love for ballet, Talbot gave his services as general manager without fee -or compensation of any sort other than the pleasure of helping the -company. It is almost entirely thanks to Talbot that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_174">{174}</a></span> <i>Fancy Free</i> -achieved production. Talbot was also instrumental in founding and -maintaining an organization known as <i>Ballet Associates</i>, later to -become <i>Ballet Associates in America</i>, since the function of the society -is to cultivate ballet in general in America in the field of -understanding, and, more specifically and particularly, to encourage, -promote and foster those creative workers whose artistic collaboration -makes ballet possible, viz., choreographers, composers, and designers. -The practical function of the society is very practical indeed, for it -means finding that most necessary fuel: money. The organization, through -the actively moving spirit of J. Alden Talbot, sponsored by substantial -contributions no less than four Ballet Theatre productions: Tudor’s -<i>Pillar of Fire</i> and <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, Agnes de Mille’s <i>Tally-Ho</i>, -and Dolin’s <i>Romantic Age</i>. It was entirely responsible for Michael -Kidd’s <i>On Stage!</i></p> - -<p>A cultured, able gentleman of charm, taste, and sensitivity, J. Alden -Talbot was the only person associated with Ballet Theatre direction able -to give it a sound direction, since he was able not only to shape a -definite policy, which is vastly important, but also to give it a sound -business management.</p> - -<p>Following Talbot’s departure, there came frequent changes in management, -changes seemingly made largely for purely personal reasons. At the time -of the stresses and strains over the inclusion of <i>Firebird</i> into the -repertoire, although Lucia Chase and Oliver Smith were the titular -managing directors, there was no head to the organization and no -director or direction, in fact. Actually, caprice was at the helm and -Ballet Theatre had a flapping rudder, a faulty compass, with Chase and -Smith taking turns at the wheel trying to keep the badly listing ship -into the wind. Acting as manager was a former stage-manager, without -previous experience or any knowledge whatever of the intricate problems -of business management. With the enthusiasm of an earnest Boy Scout, he -commenced a barrage of bulletins and directives, and ludicrously -introduced calisthenics classes for the dancers, complete with -dumb-bells, down to the institution of his own conception of the -“Stanislavsky” method of dramatic expression, the latter taking the form -of setting the company to acting out charades on the trains while on -tour.</p> - -<p>Coincidental with this was increased intrigue and the outward expression -of his theme song, which he chanted to all within earshot, the burden of -which was: “How can we get rid of Hurok? How can we get rid of Hurok? -Who needs him?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_175">{175}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>The question of the <i>Firebird</i> production was, as I have suggested, the -most contentious and controversial of any that arose in my relationships -with Ballet Theatre.</p> - -<p><i>Firebird</i> was hounded by troubles of almost every description, as each -day upturned them. Its production was marked by disputes, aggravations, -and untold difficulties from first to last. If history is to be -believed, that sort of thing has been its lot from its inception in the -Diaghileff days of 1910.</p> - -<p>The Adolph Bolm production eventually reached the stage of the -Metropolitan Opera House, after a series of vicissitudes, on the night -of the 24th October, 1945, with Alicia Markova in the title role, and -Anton Dolin in the role of Ivan Tsarevich, originally danced in the -Diaghileff production by Michel Fokine.</p> - -<p>The <i>Firebird</i> is an expensive work to produce; there are numerous -scenes, each requiring its own setting and a large complement of -costumes. In order to help overcome some of the financial problems -involved, I agreed with Ballet Theatre to contribute a certain sum to -the cost of production. I shall have something more to say about this a -bit later.</p> - -<p>As for the work itself, I can only say that the conception and the -performance were infinitely superior to that which, in these latter -days, is given by the New York City Ballet, to which organization, as a -gesture, I gave the entire production for a mere token payment so far as -the original costs to me were concerned.</p> - -<p>Under my contractual arrangements with Ballet Theatre, the organization -was obligated to provide a new second ballet for the season. I felt -<i>Firebird</i> had great audience-drawing possibilities. Ballet Theatre -insisted <i>Firebird</i> was too expensive to produce and countered with the -suggestion that Antony Tudor would stage a work on the musical base of -Bartok’s <i>Concerto for Orchestra</i>. While this work would have been -acceptable to me, I could discover no evidence that it was in -preparation.</p> - -<p>Pursuing the matter of <i>Firebird</i>, Ballet Theatre informed me they were -not in a position to expend more than $15,000 in any production. I -suggested they prepare careful estimates on the cost of <i>Firebird</i>. This -was done—at least, they showed me what purported to be estimates—and -these indicated the costs would be something between $17,000 and -$20,000. Therefore, in order to ease their financial burden, I offered -to pay the costs of the production in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_176">{176}</a></span> excess of $15,000, but not to -exceed $5,000. And so it was, at last, settled.</p> - -<p>We had all agreed on a distinguished Russian painter, resident in -Hollywood, a designer of reputation, who not only had prepared a work -for Ballet Theatre, but whose contributions to ballet and opera with -other organizations had been considerable.</p> - -<p>Despite these arrangements, as time went on, there were definite -indications that <i>Firebird</i> would not be ready for the opening date at -the Metropolitan Opera House, which had been agreed upon. No activity -concerning it was apparent, and Adolph Bolm, its choreographer, was -still in Hollywood. On the 15th September, I addressed an official -letter to Ballet Theatre concerning the delay.</p> - -<p>While no reply to this was forthcoming, I subsequently learned that, -without informing the original designer who had been engaged and -contracted to design the scenery and costumes, and who had finished his -task and had turned his designs over to the scene painters, without -informing the choreographer, without informing me, Ballet Theatre had -surreptitiously engaged another designer, who also was at work on the -same subject. We were now faced with two productions of the same work -which would, of course, require payment.</p> - -<p>A telephone call from Ballet Theatre to one of my staff, however, added -the interesting information that <i>Firebird</i> (in any production) would -not be presented until I paid them certain moneys. The member of my -staff who received this message, quite rightly refused to accept the -message, and insisted it should be in writing.</p> - -<p>It was not until the 23rd October, the day before the work was scheduled -to be produced, that Oliver Smith, of the Ballet Theatre direction, -threatened officially to delay the production of <i>Firebird</i> until I paid -them the sum they demanded. In other words, Ballet Theatre would not -present the Stravinsky work, and it would not open, unless I paid them -$11,824.87 towards its costs. These unsubstantiated costs included those -of <i>both</i> productions, all in the face of my definite limitation of -$5,000 to be paid on <i>one</i> production, since it was impossible to -imagine that there would be <i>two</i> of them.</p> - -<p>Here was an ultimatum. The Metropolitan Opera House was already sold out -to an audience expecting to see the new <i>Firebird</i>. All-out advertising -and promotion had been directed towards that event. The ultimatum was, -in effect, no money, no production.</p> - -<p>It was, in short, a demand for money under duress, for which<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_177">{177}</a></span> there is a -very ugly word. At any rate, here was a <i>bona fide</i> dispute, a matter to -be discussed; and I suggested that Ballet Theatre submit the matter to -arbitration, both disputants agreeing, of course, to be bound by the -arbiter’s decision.</p> - -<p>Lucia Chase, Oliver Smith, and Ballet Theatre’s new general manager -refused to submit the matter to arbitration. The ultimatum remained: no -money, no performance. The sold-out house had been promised <i>Firebird</i>. -The public was entitled to see it.</p> - -<p>I paid them $11,824.87, the sum they demanded, under protest, noting -this money was demanded and paid under duress. <i>Firebird</i> had its first -performance the next night, as scheduled. Meanwhile, the dress-rehearsal -that afternoon had been marked by a succession of scenes that can only -be characterized as disgraceful, the whole affair being conducted in an -atmosphere of tensity, ill-feeling, carping, with every possible -obstacle being placed in the way of a satisfactory performance and -devoid of any spirit of cooperation.</p> - -<p>It soon became apparent to me that the troubles attendant upon the -<i>Firebird</i> production were merely symptomatic of something much larger, -something much more sinister; something that was, in effect, a -conspiracy to break the contract between us, a contract which was to -continue for yet another season.</p> - -<p>I learned through reliable sources that Ballet Theatre was -surreptitiously attempting to secure bookings on their own with some of -the local managers with whom I had booked them in the past, and with -whom I was endeavoring to make arrangeents for them for the ensuing -season. On the 28th February, I served official notice on the -directorate of Ballet Theatre calling upon them to cease this illegal -and unethical practice, and, at the same time, notified all managers of -my contract with the organization.</p> - -<p>It was early in our 1946 spring engagement at the Metropolitan Opera -House, and I was working alone one evening in my office. It was late, -the staff having long since left, and I continued at my desk until it -was time for me to leave for the Metropolitan Opera House. I had not -dined, intending to have a bite in Sherry’s Bar during one of the -intervals. As I was crossing the by now deserted and partly darkened -lower lobby of my office building, a stranger lunged forward from the -shadows and thrust a sheaf of papers into my hand, then hurried into the -street. Surprised, astonished, puzzled, I returned to my office to -examine them.</p> - -<p>The papers were a summons and complaint from Ballet Theatre.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_178">{178}</a></span> Although -my contract with the organization had another year still to run, Lucia -Chase and Oliver Smith were attempting to cancel the contract in -mid-season. The grounds on which the action was based, as were -subsequently proved, had no basis in fact.</p> - -<p>But the company was slipping. It had no policy, no one capable of -formulating or maintaining one. It was losing valuable members of its -personnel, some of whom could no longer tolerate the whims and -capriciousness of “Dearie,” as Chase was dubbed by many in the company. -Jerome Robbins had gone his way. Dorati, who gave the organization the -only musical integrity and authority it had, had departed. Others, I -knew, were soon to be on their way. Dry rot was setting in. As matters -stood, with the direction as it was, I had no assurance of any permanent -survival for it. The company continued from day to day subject to the -whims of Lucia Chase. The result was insecurity for the dancers, with -all of them working with a weather-eye peeled for another job. One more -season of this company, I felt, and I would be responsible for dragging -a corpse about the country, unless, of course, I should myself become a -corpse.</p> - -<p>Ballet Theatre’s lawyers and my trusted counsel of many years’ standing, -Elias Lieberman, arranged a settlement of our contract. Among its -clauses was a proviso that the properties for <i>Firebird</i> remained my -property, together with a cash payment to me of $12,000.</p> - -<p>When the final papers were signed, we all shook hands. The parting -between us may be described as “friendly.”</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>What the future of Ballet Theatre may be, I have no way of knowing. I am -not a prophet; I am a manager. Ballet Theatre’s subsequent career has -not been particularly eloquent; not especially fortunate. There has been -a period when there was no ballet season, with the decision to spend a -“sabbatical” coming so late that many artists were left with no -employment at a time of the year when all other possibilities for work -with other companies had been exhausted. My own feeling, while wishing -them well, is that, so long as Ballet Theatre continues to have no -categorical policy or practice, and so long as it attempts to continue -with expediency dictating its equivocal programme, its future is -circumscribed. It is an axiom that a ballet company’s character is -determined by the personality of its director.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_179">{179}</a></span></p> - -<p>However many collaborators Miss Chase may have on paper, Ballet Theatre -is and will remain her baby. Co-directors, advisory boards, even the -tax-exempt, non-profit organization called Ballet Theatre Foundation, -formed in 1947, as a “sponsoring” group, do not alter the fact that Miss -Chase is its sponsor. She pays the piper and the organization will dance -to his melody. Sponsoring groups of the type I have mentioned have -little value or meaning today. Ballet will not achieve health by -dripping economic security down from the top. The theory that propping -can be done by this method of dripping props from the top, does not mean -from the top of ballet, but, hopefully, from the top of the social and -financial worlds.</p> - -<p>Healthy ballet cannot come, in my opinion, from being treated as an -outlet or excuse for parties, nor from parties as an adjunct to ballet. -The patronage of the social world in such organizations is practically -meaningless today. It was useful, in bygone days, to have a list of -fancy names out of the Blue Book as patrons. The large paying audience -which ballet must have, and which I have developed through the years, -certainly pays no attention to social patronage today. As a matter of -fact, I suspect they resent it. The only people conceivably impressed by -such a list of names would be a handful of social climbers and society -columnists. The only patrons worth the ink to print their names are -those who pay for tickets at the box-office, average citizens, even as -you and I.</p> - -<p>Ballet cannot pay for itself, for new productions, for commissioned -works, by its box-office takings, any more than can opera or symphony -orchestras. The only future I can see is some form of Government subsidy -for ballet and the other arts. Some of our leading spirits in the fields -of art are opposed to this idea. This is difficult for me to understand. -I cannot conceive how there could be any hesitancy on that score. We -know that in Great Britain and in most countries of Europe the arts, -including ballet, are subsidized by the Government. These countries are -not Communist-dominated. Here in the United States many big businesses -are subsidized by the Government in one form or another, at one time or -another. There are the railways, the airlines, the shipping companies, -the mine subsidies, the oil subsidies—and the something like -twenty-seven-and-one-half percent deduction allowed annually on new -buildings erected is also a form of subsidy.</p> - -<p>In the United States only the arts and the artists are taboo when it -comes to Government help. I do not suggest that any of the arts<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_180">{180}</a></span> should -be dependent upon charity, either by individuals or foundations. I feel -it is the plain duty of Government and of the lawmakers to finance and -subsidize the arts: ballet, orchestras, opera, painters, sculptors, -writers, composers.</p> - -<p>A country with the tremendous wealth we have should not have to depend -on charity or hobbyists for the advancement of culture and cultural -activities.</p> - -<p>Since we still lack what I feel is the only proper form of cultural -subsidy, we needs must get on as best we can with the private hobbyist -support. In this respect, Lucia Chase has been an extremely generous -sponsor of Ballet Theatre. I have said that a ballet company’s character -is determined by the personality of its director. I should like to add, -by the personality of its sponsor as well. Let us look at the -personality of Lucia Chase.</p> - -<p>With a fortune compounded in unequal parts of Yonkers Axminster and -Waterbury Brass, her largess has been tossed with what has seemed akin -to reckless abandon. A lady of “middle years,” she was born in -Waterbury, Connecticut, one of several children of a member of the Chase -Brass Company clan. A cultured lady, she went to the “right” finishing -school, did the “right” things, and, it is said, early evinced an -interest in singing and in the theatre. She married Thomas Ewing, to -whom the sobriquet, “the Axminster carpet tycoon,” has been applied. On -his death, Miss Chase was left with a fortune and two sons. Her -distraction over the loss of her husband, so it is said, drove her to an -early love as a possible means of assuaging her grief, viz., the dance. -She took ballet lessons from Mikhail Mordkin; financed the newly formed -Mordkin Ballet; in 1937, became its <i>prima ballerina</i>. So far as the -record reveals, her debut was made in the Brass City of her birth, in no -less a role than the Princess Aurora in <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, she is an excellent comedienne; yet for years she fancied -herself as a classical <i>ballerina</i>. Her insistence on dancing in such -ballets as <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, <i>Giselle</i>, <i>Pas de Quatre</i>, -<i>Petroushka</i>, <i>Princess Aurora</i>, and most of all, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, was -so regrettable that it raises the question that, if she is so -unconscious of her own limitations as a dancer, what are her -qualifications for the directorship of a ballet company?</p> - -<p>At the beginning of every venture, at the inception of every new idea, -Lucia Chase bursts with a remarkable, pulsating enthusiasm. Then, after -a time, turning a deaf ear to the voice of experience,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_181">{181}</a></span> and discovering -to her astonishment that things have not worked out as she expected, she -sulks, tosses all ideas of policy aside, and then turns impatiently and -impulsively to something that is in the way of a new adventure. Off she -goes on a new tack. Eagerly and rashly she grasps frantically at the -next idea or suggestion forthcoming from any one who is, at that moment, -in favor. So, she thinks, this time I have got it!... The pattern -repeats itself endlessly and expensively.</p> - -<p>It started thus, with her financing of the Mordkin Ballet, before the -days of Ballet Theatre. With the Mordkin Ballet, aside from financing -it, she danced; danced the roles of only the greatest <i>ballerinas</i>. This -pleasure she had. So far as operating a ballet company is concerned, she -still leaps about without a policy, and each time the result seems -unhappily to follow the same disappointing pattern.</p> - -<p>Above all, Lucia Chase has what amounts to sheer genius for taking the -wrong advice and for surrounding herself with, for the most part, -inexperienced, unqualified, and mediocre advisers. Her most successful -years were those when, by happy chance rather than by any design, the -organization was managed and directed by the able J. Alden Talbot, -informed gentleman of taste and business ability. It was during the -Talbot regime that Miss Chase had her smallest deficits and Ballet -Theatre attained its period of highest achievement.</p> - -<p>When left to her own devices, Miss Chase is, so far as policy is -concerned, uncertain, undetermined, irresolute, and meandering. The -future of Ballet Theatre as a serious institution in our cultural life -is questionable, in my opinion, because Miss Chase, after all these -years, has not yet learned how to conduct or discipline a ballet -company; has not learned that important policy decisions are not made -because of whims. Because of these things, the organization as it -stands, possesses no real and firm basis for sound artistic achievement, -progress, or permanence. There is no indication of personality, or -color, or any real authority in the company’s conduct. More and more -there are indications or intimations of some sort of middle-of-the-road -policy—if it really is policy and not a temporary whim; even so there -is no indication whatsoever of the destination towards which the vehicle -is bound.</p> - -<p>With lavish generosity, Lucia Chase has spent fantastic sums of money on -Ballet Theatre and on its predecessor, the Mordkin<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_182">{182}</a></span> Ballet. Since Ballet -Theatre is a non-profit organization and corporation, a substantial part -of this money may be said to be the taxpayer’s money, since it is -tax-exempt. Since the ultimate aim of the organization has not been -attained, since it has not assumed aesthetic responsibility, or -respected vital tradition, or preserved significant masterpieces of -every style, period, and origin, as does an art museum, and as was -announced and avowed to be its intention; since it has not succeeded in -educating the masses for ballet; it must be borne in mind that the -remission of taxes in such cases is largely predicated upon the -educational facets of such an organization whose taxes are remitted.</p> - -<p>I would be the last person to deny that Miss Chase has made a -contribution to ballet in our time. To do so would be ridiculous. But I -do insist that, whatever good she has done, almost invariably she has -negated it and contradicted it by an impulsive capriciousness.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_183">{183}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_11">11.</a> Indecisive Interlude: De Basil’s Farewell and A Pair of Classical Britons</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">W</span><b>ITH</b> Ballet Theatre gone its own way, I was placed in a serious -predicament. According to a long established and necessary custom, -bookings throughout the country are made at least a season in advance. -This is imperative in order that theatres, halls, auditoriums may be -properly engaged and so that the local managers may arrange their -series, develop their promotional campaigns, sell their tickets, thus -reducing to as great an extent as possible the element of risk and -chance involved.</p> - -<p>Since my contract with Ballet Theatre had had one more year to run, the -transcontinental bookings for the Ballet Theatre company had been made -for the entire season. It was necessary for me to keep faith with the -local managers who had built their seasons around ballet and, since -local managers have faith both in me and in the quality of the ballet I -present, I was on a spot. The question was: what to do?</p> - -<p>Something had to be done to fulfil my obligations. I had no regrets -about the departure of Ballet Theatre, other than that personal wrench I -always feel at parting company with something to which I have given so -much of myself. The last weeks with Ballet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_184">{184}</a></span> Theatre added nothing but -trouble. There was a ludicrous contretemps in the nation’s capital. -Jascha Horenstein, for some reason known only to himself, put down his -baton before the beginning of the long coda at the end of <i>Swan Lake</i>, -and walked out of the pit. As he departed, he left both the dancers and -the National Symphony Orchestra players suspended in mid-air, with -another five minutes left for the climax of the ballet. As a -consequence, the performance ended in a debacle.</p> - -<p>Matters balletic were in a bad way. It is times such as these that -present me with a challenge. There is no easy solution; and frequently, -almost usually, such solutions as there are, are reached by trial and -error. This was no exception.</p> - -<p>I began the trial and error period by building up, as an experiment, the -Markova-Dolin company, with a group of dancers, including André Eglevsky -and soloists, together with a <i>corps de ballet</i> largely composed of -Ballet Theatre personnel that had broken away because of dissatisfaction -of one sort or another. In addition to Markova, Dolin, and Eglevsky, the -company included Margaret Banks, a Sadler’s Wells trained dancer from -Vancouver, Roszika Sabo, Wallace Siebert, and others, with young John -Taras as choreographer and ballet-master. The reader who has come this -far will realize some of the problems involved in building up a -repertoire. Here we were, starting from scratch.</p> - -<p>The two basic works were a <i>Giselle</i>, staged by Dolin, with Markova in -her best role, and <i>Swan Lake</i>. In staging the second act of <i>Swan -Lake</i>, Dolin used a setting designed by the Marquessa de Cuevas for the -International Ballet. Dolin also mounted the last act of <i>The -Nutcracker</i>. John Taras staged a suite of dances from Tchaikowsy’s -<i>Eugene Onegin</i>; and the balance of the repertoire was made up from -various classical excerpts.</p> - -<p>Milwaukee, Chicago, and Detroit were selected as try-out towns in the -spring of 1946. The celestial stars that hung over the experiment cannot -be called benign. The well-worn adage that it never rains but it pours, -was hardly ever better instanced than in this case. It was the spring of -the nation-wide railway strike, and the dates of our performances -coincided with it. By grace of the calendar we managed to get the -company to Milwaukee, where the company’s first performances were given -at the old Pabst Theatre. By interurban street-car and trucks we got the -company to the Chicago Opera House. There the difficulties multiplied. -Owing to the firm<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_185">{185}</a></span> restrictions placed upon the use of electricity in -public places, in order to conserve the dwindling coal supply, it was -impossible to light the Opera House auditorium or foyers, which were -swathed in gloom, broken only by faint spots of dull glow emanating from -a few oil lanterns. The current for the stage lighting was supplied from -a United States Coast Guard vessel, which we had, with great difficulty, -persuaded to move along the river side of the Opera House, to the -engine-room of which vessel we ran cables from the stage. The ship could -generate just enough “juice” for stage purposes only. That “just enough” -might have been precisely that in computed wattage; but it was direct -current. Our lighting equipment operated on alternating current, and, by -the time the “juice” was converted, the actual power was limited to the -point that, try as the technical staff did, the best we were able to -obtain was a sort of passable low visibility on the stage.</p> - -<p>To add to the general fun, the Coast Guard vessel broke loose from its -moorings, floated across the Chicago River, destroyed some pilasters of -the <i>Chicago Daily News</i> and jammed the Randolph Street drawbridge of -the City of Chicago, adding to the general confusion, to say nothing of -the costs.</p> - -<p>When it came time for the company to move to Detroit, no trains were -running, and buses and trucks would not cross state lines. It took some -master-minding on the part of our staff to arrange to have the company, -baggage cars and all, attached to a freight train, which was carrying -permitted perishable fruits and vegetables. In Detroit, the slump had -set in. The feeling of depression engendered by the darkened buildings -and streets, the dimly-lighted theatres, the murk of stygian -restaurants, together with the fact that the Detroit engagement had to -be played at one of the “legitimate” theatres rather than at the Masonic -Temple which, for years, had been the local home for ballet, played -havoc with the engagement; people, bewildered by the situation, one -which was as darkness is to light, were discouraged and daunted. They -remained away from the theatre in droves and the losses were fantastic.</p> - -<p>Using the word in the best theatrical sense and tradition, it was a -catastrophe. Perhaps it was as well that it was; somehow I cannot -entirely reject the conviction that things more often than not work out -for the best, for as the company and the repertoire stood, it would not -fill the bill. Nor was there anything like sufficient time to build -either a company or a repertoire.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_186">{186}</a></span></p> - -<p>The projected Markova-Dolin company was placed in mothballs. The -problems, so far as the ensuing season was concerned, remained critical.</p> - -<p>The Markova-Dolin combination was to emerge later in a different form. -For the present it marked time, while I pondered the situation, with no -solution in sight.</p> - -<p>At this crucial moment an old friend, Nicholas Koudriavtzeff, entered -the picture. An American citizen of long standing, by birth he was a -member of an old aristocratic Russian family. His manner, his life, his -thinking are Continental. A man of fine culture, he is an idealistic -business man of the theatre and concert worlds; a gentle, kind, able -person, with an irresistible penchant for getting himself involved, for -swimming in waters far beyond his depth, largely because of his -idealism, together with his warmheartedness and his gentleness. It is -this very gentleness, coupled with a certain softness, that makes it -almost impossible for him to say “no” to anyone.</p> - -<p>He is married to a former Diaghileff dancer and de Basil soloist, -Tatiana Lipkovska. They divide their homes between New York and Canada, -where he is one of the leading figures in Montreal’s musical-balletic -life, and where, on a gracious farm, he raises glorious flowers, fruits, -and vegetables for the Montreal market. His wife, in her ballet school, -passes on to aspiring pupils the sound tradition of the classical dance. -Koudriavtzeff had been mixed up in ballet, in one capacity or another, -for years. There was a time when he suffered from that contagious and -deplorable infliction: ballet gossip, in which he was a practiced -practitioner; but there are indications that he is well on his way to -recovery. He is a warm friend and a good colleague.</p> - -<p>Koudriavtzeff and I have something, I suspect, in common. Attracted and -attached to something early in life, a concept is formed, and we become -a part of that idea. From this springs a sort of congenital optimism, -and we are inclined to feel that, whatever the tribulations, all will -somehow work out successfully and to the happiness of all concerned. In -this respect, I put myself into the same category. I strongly suspect I -am infected with the same virus as Koudriavtzeff.</p> - -<p>One of my real pleasures is to linger over dinner at home. It is no -particular secret that I am something of a gourmet and I know of no -finer or more appropriate place to enjoy good food than at home. So, it -is with something of the sense of a rite that I try, as<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_187">{187}</a></span> often as the -affairs of an active life permit, sometime between half-past six and -seven in the evening to have a quiet dinner at home with Mrs. Hurok.</p> - -<p>The telephone bell, that prime twentieth century annoyance, interrupted, -as it so often does, the evening’s peace.</p> - -<p>“Won’t they let you alone?” was Mrs. Hurok’s only comment.</p> - -<p>It was Koudriavtzeff.</p> - -<p>“Call me back in half an hour.” I said.</p> - -<p>He did.</p> - -<p>“I should like to talk with you, Mr. Hurok,” he said in the rather -breathless approach that is a Koudriavtzeff conversational -characteristic.</p> - -<p>Since he was already talking, I suggested he continue—over the -telephone. But no, this was not possible, he said. He must talk to me -privately; something very secret. Could he come to my home, there and -then? Was it a matter of business? I inquired. It was. I demurred. I had -had enough of business for one day.</p> - -<p>However, there was such urgency in Koudriavtzeff’s voice, after making -due allowance for an almost perpetual urgency with Koudriavtzeff, even -in discussing the weather, that I agreed. He must have telephoned from a -booth round the corner, for Koudriavtzeff arrived, breathless, almost as -soon as I had put down the instrument.</p> - -<p>We sat down over a glass of tea. For a few minutes the conversation -concerned itself with generalities. Since I did not feel especially -social, I brought the talk around to particularities.</p> - -<p>“Well, what can I do for you?” I inquired.</p> - -<p>The story came pouring out like water from a burst dam. It developed, as -I pieced it together, that Koudriavtzeff was trying to make certain -bookings for de Basil’s Original Ballet Russe on the way back from South -America. Although there were some bookings, he had not been able to -secure sufficient dates and, under the arrangement he had made with the -“Colonel,” Koudriavtzeff was obliged to deliver. That was not all. Not -only was he short with dates; he did not have the means with which to -make the necessary campaign, even if he had obtained the dates.</p> - -<p>I pondered the situation.</p> - -<p>“Is de Basil in South America?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Koudriavtzeff. “He is here in New York.”</p> - -<p>Somehow, I could not regard this as good news.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_188">{188}</a></span></p> - -<p>I pondered the matter again.</p> - -<p>After all I had gone through with this man, I asked myself, why should I -continue to listen to Koudriavtzeff? If ever there was a time when I -should have said, firmly, unequivocally “to hell with ballet,” it was at -this moment. But I continued to listen.</p> - -<p>With one ear I was listening to the insistent refrain: “To hell with -ballet.” With the other, I was harking to my responsibilities to the -local managers, to my lease with the Metropolitan Opera House.</p> - -<p>Koudriavtzeff proceeded with his rapid-fire chatter. From it one -sentence came sharp and dear:</p> - -<p>“Will you please be so kind, Mr. Hurok? Will you, please, see de Basil?”</p> - -<p>It could have been that I was not thinking as clearly and objectively as -I should have been at that moment.</p> - -<p>I agreed.</p> - -<p>The next evening, de Basil, Koudriavtzeff, and I met.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hurok sounded the warning.</p> - -<p>“I don’t object to your seeing him,” she said, “but you’re not going in -with him again?”</p> - -<p>The meetings were something I kept from the knowledge of my office for -several days.</p> - -<p>As I have pointed out before, de Basil was a Caucasian. The Caucasians -and the Georgians have several qualities in common, not the least of -which is the love of and desire for intrigue, coupled with infinite -patience, never-flagging energy, and nerves of steel. It was perfectly -possible for de Basil to sit for days and nights on end, occasionally -uttering a few words, silent for long, long periods, but waiting, -patiently waiting. It is these alleged virtues that make the Caucasians -the most efficient and successful members of those bodies whose job it -is to practice the delicate art of the third-degree: the O.G.P.U., the -N.K.V.D.</p> - -<p>I had agreed to meet de Basil, and now I was in for it. There was one -protracted meeting after another, with each seeming to merge, without -perceptible break, into the next. The “Colonel” had a “heart,” which he -coddled; he brought with him his hypochondriacal collection of “pills,” -some of which were for his “heart,” some for other uses. With their -help, he managed to keep wide awake but impassive through night after -night. Discussion, argument; argu<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_189">{189}</a></span>ment, discussion. As the conferences -proceeded, de Basil reinforced his “pills” with his lawyers, this time -the omnipresent Lidji and Asa Sokoloff.</p> - -<p>No one could be more aware of the “Colonel’s” inherent avoidance of -honesty or any understandable code of ethics than I, yet he invariably -commenced every conversation with: “Now if you will only be sincere and -serious with me....”</p> - -<p>Always it was the other fellow who was insincere.</p> - -<p>Nearly all these meetings took place in the upper Fifth Avenue home of a -friend of de Basil’s, a former <i>Time</i> magazine associate editor, where -he was a house-guest. I cannot imagine what sort of home life he and his -wife could have had during this period when, what with the long sessions -and the constant comings and goings, the place bore a stronger -resemblance to a committee room adjacent to an American political -convention than a quiet, conservative Fifth Avenue home. Not only was -the place crowded with antiques, for de Basil’s host was a “collector,” -but the “Colonel” had piled these pieces one on the top of another to -turn the place into a warehouse. It was during the after-war shortage of -food in Europe, whither the “Colonel” was repairing as soon as he could.</p> - -<p>Here, in his host’s home, the “Colonel” had opened his own package and -shipping department. Box upon box, crate upon crate of bulky foods: -mostly spaghetti. All sorts of foods: cost cheap, bulk large.</p> - -<p>This was the first time in my ballet career that I had written down a -repertoire on cases of spaghetti. As these meetings continued, and took -the toll of human patience and endurance, we were joined by my loyal -adjutant, Mae Frohman, who was served a sumptuous dish of not -particularly tasty but certainly very filling -Russo-Caucasian-Georgian-Bulgarian negotiations.</p> - -<p>It is not to be supposed that this period was brief. It went on for -nearly three weeks, day and night.</p> - -<p>One night progress was made; but before morning we were back where we -started. Miss Frohman begged me to call off the entire business, to get -out of it while the getting was good. The more she saw and heard, the -more certain she was that her intuition was right; this was something to -be given a wide berth. But I was in it now. There was no going back.</p> - -<p>Time, however, was running out. I had booked passage to fly to Europe. -The date approached, as dates have a way of doing, until<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_190">{190}</a></span> we reached the -day before my scheduled departure. Mrs. Hurok remonstrated with me over -the whole business.</p> - -<p>“What good can come from this?” she protested. “Are you mad?”</p> - -<p>Perhaps I was.</p> - -<p>“What are you trying to do?” she went on. “Trying to kill yourself?”</p> - -<p>Perhaps I was.</p> - -<p>It was not a matter of trying; but it could be.</p> - -<p>While de Basil was working his way back from South America with his -little band, he managed to secure another engagement in Mexico City. It -was there that that interesting figure of the world of ballet and its -allied arts, the Marquis de Cuevas, saw the de Basil organization. The -Marquis, a colorful gentleman of taste and culture, is, perhaps, the -outstanding example we have today of the sincere and talented amateur in -and patron of the arts. He is a European-American, despite his South -American birth. He had a disastrous season of ballet in New York, in -1944, with his Ballet International, for which he bought a theatre, and -lost nigh on to a million dollars in a two-months’ season—which may, to -date, be the most expensive lesson in how not to make a ballet. Today -the Marquis’s company functions as a part of the European scene. During -his initial season in New York, he had created a reasonably substantial -repertoire, including four works of quality I felt could be added to the -de Basil repertoire in combination, in the event I succeeded in coming -to terms with the “Colonel.” These works were <i>Sebastian</i>, <i>The Mute -Wife</i>, <i>Constantia</i>, and <i>Pictures at an Exhibition</i>.</p> - -<p>After viewing the de Basil company in Mexico City, the Marquis had an -idea that it might be wise for him to join up with the “Colonel.” -Returning to New York, the Marquis came to me to discuss the matter. I -succeeded in dissuading him from investing and buying the worn-out -scenery, costumes, and properties, which were, to all intents and -purposes, valueless.</p> - -<p>The Marquis departed for France. As the protracted negotiations with de -Basil continued, I cabled the Marquis, informing him that I had parted -with Ballet Theatre, and that I was negotiating with de Basil. Pointing -out my obligations to the local managers, and to the Metropolitan Opera -House, I asked the Marquis if he would participate, or contribute a -certain amount of money, and add his repertoire to that of the -“Colonel.”</p> - -<p>The final de Basil conference before my scheduled departure<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_191">{191}</a></span> for Europe -commenced early. The night wore on. We were again on the verge of -reaching an agreement. By two o’clock in the morning the possibility had -diminished and receded into the same vague, seemingly unattainable -distance where it had so long rested. Then, shortly after four o’clock, -the pieces suddenly all fell into place, with all of us, including Mae -Frohman, in a state of complete exhaustion, as the verbal agreement was -reached. The bland, imperturbable, expressionless de Basil was the sole -exception, at least to outward appearances.</p> - -<p>Since my Europe-bound plane was departing within a few hours, it was -necessary that all the voluminous documents be drawn up and signed -before my departure. The lawyers, Lidji, Sokoloff, and my own legal -adviser and friend, Elias Lieberman, worked on these as we sipped hot, -black coffee, for the millionth time.</p> - -<p>The sun was bright when we gathered round a table in the Fifth Avenue -apartment where de Basil was a guest, and affixed our signatures.</p> - -<p>It was six o’clock in the morning.</p> - -<p>At twelve o’clock my plane rose over La Guardia and headed for Paris.</p> - -<p>It was the first commercial plane to make the flight to Paris after the -War. Mrs. Hurok, Mae Frohman, and Mr. and Mrs. Artur Rubinstein were at -the field to wish me “bon voyage.”</p> - -<p>In Paris I met the Marquis and Marquessa de Cuevas, the latter a -gracious lady of charm and taste. Food was short in Paris, hard to find, -and of dubious quality. Somehow, the Marquessa had been able to secure a -chicken from her farm outside Paris, and we managed a dinner. I -explained the settlement I had made with de Basil to the Marquis, and -urged his cooperation joining de Basil as Artistic Director, hoping -that, as a result, something fine could be built, given time and -patience. Such an arrangement would also permit at least some of the -Marquis’s repertoire from deteriorating in the store-house, and bring -the works before a new and larger public.</p> - -<p>Carerras, the manager for the Marquis at the time, was flatly opposed to -de Cuevas cooperating in any way with the “Colonel,” but eventually de -Cuevas decided to do what, once again, proved to be the impossible, -viz., to collaborate with the Caucasian de Basil.</p> - -<p>This much having been settled, I went on to London, where I saw the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet at Covent Garden for the first time; shortly -afterwards I left for California, to spend a little time at my<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_192">{192}</a></span> Beverly -Hills home which I had maintained during the war.</p> - -<p>On my arrival in California, there were messages from my office awaiting -me. They were disturbing. Already troubles were brewing. The de Basil -repertoire was in dubious condition. Something must be done, and at -once. Moreover, despite de Basil’s assurances, the repertoire was too -small in size and was inadequately rehearsed. I left for New York by the -first available plane.</p> - -<p>On my arrival in New York, I quickly made arrangements to send John -Taras, the young American who had been the choreographer and -ballet-master for the Markova-Dolin experiment, to South America to whip -the company into shape. With him went a group of American dancers to -augment the personnel.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, as the days sped on, every conceivable difficulty arose over -getting the de Basil company and its repertoire out of South America. -There were financial troubles. As was so often the case, de Basil had no -money. But he did have debts and other liabilities that had to be -liquidated before the company could be permitted to move. One thing -piled on another. When these matters had been straightened out, the -climax came in the form of a general strike in Rio de Janeiro, with the -situation out of hand and shooting in the streets. This prevented the -company from embarking for New York; not only was it impossible for -passengers to board the ship, but neither scenery, properties, nor -luggage could be loaded. Further delay meant that they could not arrive -in New York in time for the mid-October opening at the Metropolitan -Opera House, which I had had engaged for months, and for which season -the advertising was in full swing, the promotional work done.</p> - -<p>Once again, fast action was necessary to save the situation. In New York -we had the de Cuevas repertoire, but no company. By long distance -telephone I got John Taras to leave Rio de Janeiro for New York by -plane. I engaged yet another group of artists here in New York, and -Taras, immediately upon his arrival, commenced rehearsals with this -third group on the de Cuevas repertoire, in order to have something in -readiness to fulfil my obligations in the event that the de Basil -company was unable to reach New York in time for the opening. It was, at -best, makeshift, but at least something would be ready. The season could -open on time, and faith would be kept.</p> - -<p>While these difficulties and problems were compounding, the “Colonel” -was far from the South American battlefield. He was safely<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_193">{193}</a></span> in New York, -stirring up the already quite sufficiently troubled waters.</p> - -<p>I was more firmly convinced than ever before that to have two -closely-linked members of the same family in the same field of endeavor -is bad. Two singers in one family, I submit, is very bad. Two dancers in -one family is very, very bad. But when a manager or director of a ballet -company has a wife who is a dancer in his own company—that is the worst -of all.</p> - -<p>These profound observations are prompted by the marital complications -that provided the chief contentious bone of this period of stress. These -marital arrangements were two in number. De Basil’s first wife, who had -divorced him, had married the company’s choreographer, Vania Psota, the -creator of the late and unlamented <i>Slavonika</i>, of early Ballet Theatre -days, and both Psota and his wife were with the company, soon, I prayed, -to arrive in New York. De Basil, already in town, had married Olga -Morosova, one of the company’s artists. This was an additional -complication, for, although Morosova was only a soloist, upon her -marriage she had immediately been promoted to the role of the company’s -<i>prima ballerina</i>. All leading roles, de Basil insisted, must now be -danced by her.</p> - -<p>The arguments were almost continuous, and only a Caucasian could have -endured them, unscarred. The battle raged.</p> - -<p>To sum up, I should like to offer a word of caution. If you who read -these lines are a dancer, do not marry the manager. It cuts both ways: -if you are a manager, do not marry a dancer. If, by chance these lines -are read by one who has ambitions to become a ballet manager, do not -allow yourself any romantic connection with a dancer in the company. It -simply does not work, and it is not good for ballet, or for you.</p> - -<p>All of these continuing, persisting discussions served merely to speed -the days. Opening night was drawing perilously near, coming closer and -closer, while de Basil’s company and repertoire were still being held in -Rio de Janeiro by the general strike. The “Colonel” again needed money. -Unless the money he required was forthcoming, strike or no strike, the -company would not embark. Once again I was being held up, with the gun -at my back; on legal advice and out of sheer necessity, the money was -forthcoming.</p> - -<p>This type of blackmail, the demand for money under duress, was -threatening to become a habit in ballet, I felt. But, after all, if I -sought to allocate blame for the situation, there was no one<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_194">{194}</a></span> to whom it -could be charged except myself. It was my own fault for having consented -to listen to the siren voice of Koudriavtzeff in the first place. No one -can make greater trouble for one, I believe, than one’s own self. I had -agreed to the whole unhappy business against the considered advice of -all those in whom I had confidence and faith. There was nothing to be -done but to see it through with as much grace as I could muster. I -determined, however, to take stock. This time I was certain. I was, at -last, satisfied that when this season finished, I was finished with -ballet. No more. Never again.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>The de Basil crowd eventually arrived at a South Brooklyn pier, barely -in time, on a holiday afternoon before the Metropolitan opening. The -rush, the drive, the complicated business of clearing through customs -promised more headaches, more heartaches, and yet more unforeseen -expense. We now had two companies merged for the Metropolitan Opera -House engagement. In this respect we had been fortunate, for the de -Basil scenery and costumes were in a pitiable state of disrepair. Since -there was neither sufficient time nor money for their rehabilitation, we -provided both, and, meanwhile, had the advantage of the de Cuevas works.</p> - -<p>De Basil had been able to make but few additions to his repertoire -during the lean and long South American hegira. These were <i>Yara</i> and -<i>Cain and Abel</i>. <i>Yara</i> had been choreographed by Psota, to a score by -Francisco Mignone. It was a lengthy attempt to bring to the stage a -Brazilian legend. It had striking sets and costumes by Candido -Portinari, and little else. <i>Cain and Abel</i> was a juicy tid-bit in which -David Lichine perpetrated a “treatment” of the Genesis tale to, of all -things, cuttings and snippets from Wagner’s <i>Die Götter-Dammerung</i>. It -was a silly business.</p> - -<p>The four works from the Marquis de Cuevas repertoire were given a wider -public, and helped a bad situation. <i>Sebastian</i>, with an excitingly -dramatic score by Gian-Carlo Menotti, his first for ballet, had been -staged by Edward Caton, in a setting by Oliver Smith. It made for a -striking piece of theatre. <i>The Mute Wife</i> was a light but amusing -comedy, adapted by the American dancer-choreographer, Antonia Cobos, -from the familiar tale by Anatole France, <i>The Man Who Married a Dumb -Wife</i>, to Paganini melodies, principally his <i>Perpetual Motion</i>, -orchestrated by Vittorio Rieti. The third work, <i>Constantia</i>, was a -classical ballet by William Dollar, done to Cho<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_195">{195}</a></span>pin’s <i>Piano Concerto in -F Minor</i>, enlisting the services of Rosella Hightower, André Eglevsky, -and Yvonne Patterson. Its title, confusing to some, referred to Chopin’s -“Ideal Woman,” Constantia Gladowska, to whom the composer dedicated the -musical work.</p> - -<p>Thanks to Ballet Associates in America, there was one new work. It was -<i>Camille</i>, staged by John Taras, in quite unique settings by Cecil -Beaton, for Alicia Markova and Anton Dolin. It was a balletic attempt to -tell the familiar Dumas tale. In this case, the music, instead of being -out of Traviata by Verdi to use stud-book terminology, consisted of -Franz Schubert melodies, orchestrated by Vittorio Rieti. It was not the -success one hoped and, after seeing a later one by Tudor, to say nothing -of one by Dolin, I am more and more persuaded that <i>Camille</i> belongs to -Dumas and Verdi, to Rachel and Sarah Bernhardt, not to ballet. There was -also an unimportant but fairly amusing little <i>Pas de Trois</i>, for -Markova, Dolin, and Eglevsky, set by Jerome Robbins to the <i>Minuet of -the Will o’ the Wisps</i>, and the <i>Dance of the Sylphs</i>, from Berlioz’ -<i>The Damnation of Faust</i>. It was a burlesque, highlighted by the use of -a bit of the <i>Rákoczy March</i> as an overture, loud enough and big enough -to suggest that a ballet company of gargantuan proportions was to be -revealed by the rising curtain.</p> - -<p>The trans-continental tour compounded troubles and annoyances with heavy -financial losses. The Original Ballet Russe carried with it the heavy -liability of a legend to a vast new audience. This audience had heard of -the symphonic ballets; there were nostalgic tales told them by their -elders about the “baby ballerinas,” Toumanova, Baronova, Riabouchinska. -There were no symphonic ballets. The “baby ballerinas” had grown up and -were in other pastures. The repertoire and the interpretations revealed -the ravages of time. Perhaps the truth was that legends have an unhappy -trick of falling short of reality.</p> - -<p>While the long tour was in progress, the Marquis de Cuevas was making -arrangements with the Principality of Monaco for a season at Monte Carlo -with his own company. Immediately on getting wind of this, the “Colonel” -did his best to try to doublecross the Marquis. This time, the “Colonel” -did not succeed. For several seasons, the de Cuevas company, under the -title Grand Ballet de Monte Carlo, largely peopled with American -dancers, including Rosella Hightower, Marjorie Tallchief, Jocelyn -Vollmar, Ana Ricarda, and others, and under the choreographic direction -of John Taras, functioned<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_196">{196}</a></span> there. When his Monte Carlo contract was at -an end, the name of the company was changed to the Grand Ballet du -Marquis de Cuevas.</p> - -<p>In 1951, the Marquis brought his company to New York for a season at the -Century Theatre. It was completely unsuccessful, and while the losses -were less than the initial American season, when it was called Ballet -International, since there were no production costs to be met, much less -a theatre to be bought, it was indeed an unfortunate occasion. The -debacle, I believe, was not entirely the fault of the Marquis, since the -entire season was mismanaged and mishandled from every point of view.</p> - -<p>The long, unhappy tour of the Original Ballet Russe dragged its weary -way to a close. Nothing I could imagine would be more welcome than that -desired event. When it was all over, I was happy to see them push off to -Europe. The losses I incurred were so considerable that it still is a -painful subject on which to ponder, even from this distance of time. -Suffice it to say they were very considerable.</p> - -<p>The Original Ballet Russe had been living on its capital far too long. -In London, in 1947, the “Colonel” made an attempt to reorganize his -company. Clutching at straws, the shrewd “Colonel,” I am sure, realized -that if he had any chance for survival, it would be on the basis of a -successful London season, scene of his first triumphs. For this purpose, -he formed a new company, since almost none of the original organization -survived. It was a failure.</p> - -<p>Nothing daunted, in 1951, he was preparing to try again. Death -intervened, and Vassily Grigorievitch Voskresensky, better known to the -world of ballet as Colonel W. de Basil, was gathered to his fathers. I -was shocked but not surprised when the news reached me. He had, I knew, -been living a devil-may-care existence. We had quarrelled, argued, -fought. We had, on the other hand, worked together for a common end and -with a common belief and purpose.</p> - -<p>He was truly an incredible man.</p> - -<p>I was enjoying a brief holiday at Evian when the news came to me, -through mutual friends, that de Basil was seriously ill.</p> - -<p>“I am going to Paris to see him and to do what I can,” I told them.</p> - -<p>The next day I was at lunch when there came a telephone call from Paris. -It was his one-time agent, Mme. Bouchenet, to tell me, to my great -regret, that de Basil had just died.</p> - -<p>We had had our continuing differences, but his had been a labor<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_197">{197}</a></span> of -love; he had loved ballet passionately. He had been a truly magnificent -organizer. May he rest in peace.</p> - -<p>De Basil was, I suppose, technically an amateur in the arts; but he -managed to do a great service to ballet. By one means or another, he -formed a great ballet company. He had the vision to sponsor one of the -most revolutionary steps in ballet history since the “romantic -revolution”: Massine’s symphonic ballets. In the face of seemingly -insurmountable obstacles, he succeeded in keeping a company of warring -personalities together for years. On the financial side, still an -amateur, without the benefit of many guarantees from social celebrities -or industrial magnates, he managed to keep going. His methods were, to -say the least, unorthodox; he was amazing, fantastic, and, as I have -said, incredible. He was no Diaghileff. He was de Basil. Diaghileff was -a man of deep culture, vast erudition, an inspirer of all with whom he -came into contact. De Basil was a sharp business man, a shrewd -negotiator, an adroit manager. He was a personality. In the history of -ballet, I venture to suggest, he will be remembered as the man who was -the instrument by which and through which new life was instilled in the -art of the ballet at a time when it was in dire danger of becoming -moribund. Why and how he came to be that instrument is of little -importance. The important thing is that he <i>was</i>.</p> - -<p>At the time of de Basil’s death little remained save a memory. For four -seasons, at least, by reason of his instinct, his drive, his -collaborators, he presented to ballet something as close to perfection -as is possible to imagine. For that, all who genuinely love ballet -should be grateful.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>Although I heaved a sigh of relief when the “Colonel” and his -ragtag-bobtail band clambered aboard the ship bound for Europe, there -were still serious problems to be considered. The uppermost questions -that troubled me were merely two parts of the same query: “Why should I -go on with this ballet business?” I asked myself. “Haven’t I done -enough?”</p> - -<p>Against any affirmative answer I could give myself, were arranged two -facts: one, the magnetic “pull” ballet exerted upon me; two, the -existence of a contract with the Metropolitan Opera House, which had to -be fulfilled.</p> - -<p>So it was that, in the autumn of 1947, that I gave a short season of -ballet there. It was not a season of great ballets, but of great<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_198">{198}</a></span> -artists. The programmes centered about Alicia Markova, Anton Dolin, -André Eglevsky.</p> - -<p>From this emerged a dance-group company, compact, flexible, the -Markova-Dolin Company, which toured the country from coast to coast with -a considerable measure of success. This was not, of course, ballet in -the grand manner. It was chamber ballet; a dozen dancers, a small, -well-chosen group of artists, together with a small orchestra and -musical director. In addition to the two stars, the company included -Oleg Tupine, Bettina Rosay, Rozsika Sabo, Natalia Condon, Kirsten -Valbor, Wallace Siebert, Royes Fernandez, George Reich, with Robert -Zeller, young American conductor, protegé of Serge Koussevitsky and -Pierre Monteux, as Musical Director.</p> - -<p>The repertoire included three new works: <i>Fantasia</i>, a ballet to a -Schubert-Liszt score, with choreography by Bronislava Nijinska; <i>Henry -VIII</i>, a ballet by Rosella Hightower, to music of Rossini, arranged by -Robert Zeller, and costumes by the San Francisco designer, Russell -Hartley; <i>Lady of the Camellias</i>, another balletic version of the Dumas -tale, choreographed by Anton Dolin to portions of Verdi’s <i>La Traviata</i>, -arranged and orchestrated by Zeller; the Jerome Robbins <i>Pas de Trois</i>, -to the <i>Damnation of Faust</i> excerpts, in costumes by the American John -Pratt; and two classical works, viz., <i>Famous Dances from Tchaikowsky’s -The Nutcracker</i>, staged jointly by Markova and Dolin, with costumes by -Alvin Colt; and <i>Suite de Danse</i>, a romantic group, including some of -<i>Les Sylphides</i>, in the Fokine choreography; a Johann Strauss <i>Polka</i>, -staged by Vincenzo Celli; <i>Pas Espagnole</i>, to music by Ravina, by Ana -Ricarda; <i>Vestris Solo</i>, to music by Rossini, choreographed by Celli; -and Dolin’s delicious <i>Pas de Quatre</i>.</p> - -<p><i>Henry VIII</i>, Rosella Hightower’s first full work as a choreographer, -was no balletic masterpiece, but it provided Dolin with a part wherein, -as the portly, bearded, greatly married monarch of Britain, he was able -to dance and act in the great tradition of Red Coat, Devil of the -Ukraine, Bluebeard, Gil Blas, Tyl Eulenspiegel, Sganarelle, -Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford, and all the other picaresque heroes of -ballet, theatre, and literature. While Dolin, of course, confined -himself to the choreographer’s patterning, I should not have been -surprised if he had resorted to falling over sofas, squirting -Elizabethan soda water syphons in the face of Katherine Parr, or being -carried off to the royal bedchamber in a complete state of -intoxication.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_199">{199}</a></span></p> - -<p>While such an organization is far from ideal for the presentation of -spectacular ballet, which must have a large company, eye-filling stage -settings, and all the appurtenances of the modern theatre, since ballet -is essentially a theatre art, it nevertheless permitted us to take a -form of ballet to cities and towns where, because of physical -conditions, the full panoply of ballet at its most glamorous cannot be -given.</p> - -<p>The highlight of this tour occurred at the War Memorial Opera House, in -San Francisco, where, because of an unusual combination of -circumstances, an extremely interesting collaboration was made possible. -The San Francisco Civic Ballet, an organization that promised much in -the way of a civic supported ballet company of national proportions, had -just been formed, and with the cooperation of the San Francisco Art -Commission, and with the full San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, was -undertaking its first season. At its invitation, it was possible for us -to combine its first productions with those of the Markova-Dolin -company, and, in addition to the San Francisco Civic Ballet creations, a -splendid production of <i>Giselle</i> was made, staged by Dolin, with -Markova, according to all reports, including that of the informed -critic, Alfred Frankenstein, giving one of the most remarkable -interpretations of her long career in the title role. This tribute is -the more remarkable, since <i>Giselle</i> is one of Frankenstein’s “blind -spots” in ballet. No critic is entirely free from bias or prejudice, and -since even I admit that—countless examples to the contrary -notwithstanding—the critic is also a human being, why should he be -utterly free from those very human qualities or defects, as the case may -be?</p> - -<p>The artists of the Markova-Dolin company supplemented the San Francisco -company, with the local company supplying the production, the two groups -merging for substantial joint rehearsal. I have said the San Francisco -Civic Ballet promised much. It is to be regretted that means could not -be forthcoming to insure its permanence. Its closing was the result of -the lack of that most vital element, proper subsidy. These things shock -me.</p> - -<p>The Markova-Dolin company was no more the ultimate answer to my balletic -problem than was the Original Ballet Russe. It was, however, something -more than a satisfactory stop-gap; it was also a very pleasant -association.</p> - -<p>Markova and Dolin are a quite remarkable pair. For years their stars -were congruent. Until recently there were indications that they had -become one, a fixed constellation, supreme, serene, spar<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_200">{200}</a></span>kling. Those -gods in whose hands lie the celestial disposition have seen fit to shift -their orbits so that now each goes his or her separate course. I, for -one, cannot other than express my personal regret that this is so. One -complemented the other. I would go so far as to say that one benefited -the other. Both as individual artists and in partnership, the -distinguished pair of Britons are an ornament to their art and to their -native land.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ALICIA MARKOVA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Alicia Markova, <i>née</i> Lilian Alicia Marks, was born in London, 1st -December, 1910. Her life has been celebrated in perhaps as many volumes -and articles as any other <i>ballerina</i>, if for no other reason than that -the English seem to burst into print about ballet and to encase their -words between solid covers more extensively than any other people I -know, not excluding the French. It is almost a case of scratch an -Englishman and you will find a ballet author. Because of this extensive -bibliography, the details of Markova’s career need not concern me here, -save to establish the highlights in a public life that has been -extraordinarily successful.</p> - -<p>When Markova arrived in this country to join the Massine Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, she already had behind her a high position in British -ballet; yet she was, in a sense, shy and naive. Her father had died when -Alicia was thirteen. There were three other sisters, and an Irish -mother, who had adopted orthodox Judaism on her marriage to Alicia’s -father, all in need of support. Alicia became the head of and -bread-winner for the family. The mother worked hard at the business of -being a mother, but kept away from the theatre’s back-stage. The story -of the family life of the mother and the four daughters sounds like a -Louisa M. Alcott novel, with theatre innovations and variations.</p> - -<p>Before she became a pupil at the Chelsea studio of Seraphina Astafieva, -late of the Imperial and Diaghileff Ballets, little Alicia had been a -principal in a London Christmas pantomime and had already been labeled -“the miniature Pavlova.” It was in this studio that her path crossed -that of one Sydney Francis Patrick Chippendall Healey-Kay, soon to have -his name truncated and changed to Anton Dolin by Serge Diaghileff. It -was Dolin who brought Alicia Marks to Diaghileff’s attention, not, -however, without some difficulty. Dolin’s conversations with Diaghileff -about “the miniature Pavlova” brought only disgust from the great -founder of modern ballet. The preten<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_201">{201}</a></span>tiousness and presumptuousness of -such a title roused only repugnance in the great man.</p> - -<p>Eventually, Dolin succeeded in bringing Diaghileff to a party at the -King’s Road studio of Astafieva, where little Miss Marks, at fourteen, -danced. As a result, Diaghileff changed Marks to Markova, dropped the -Lilian, and took her, with governess, into his company, detailing one of -his current soloists, Ninette de Valois by name, to keep a weather-eye -out for the child. Markova was on her way rapidly up the ladder, with -two Balanchine creations under her <i>pointes</i>, <i>The Song of the -Nightingale</i> and <i>La Chatte</i>, when Diaghileff died.</p> - -<p>This meant a complete change of focus for Markova, in 1929. She earned a -living for herself and her family for a time dancing in the English -music halls, dancing for Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club and the Camargo -Society for buttons. After two years at Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club, -where Frederick Ashton took her in hand, as coach and teacher, adviser, -and mentor extraordinary, she became the leading <i>ballerina</i> of the -Vic-Wells Ballet, the predecessor of Sadler’s Wells, where, under the -overall guidance of Ashton and de Valois, she danced the first English -<i>Giselle</i>, the full-length <i>Swan Lake</i>, and <i>The Nutcracker</i>. Dolin was -a guest star of the Vic-Wells in those days; their stellar paths again -intertwined as they had at Astafieva’s studio, and in the Diaghileff -Ballet.</p> - -<p>In the fall of 1935, Dolin and Markova formed the Markova-Dolin Ballet, -with a full repertoire of classical works, playing London and touring -throughout Great Britain.</p> - -<p>Markova, if she is honest, and I have no reason to believe she is not, -should be the first to admit her profound debt to three persons in -ballet: Anton Dolin, who has projected her, protected her, and -occasionally pestered her; Frederick Ashton and Marie Rambert who, -jointly and severally, encouraged, advised, and guided her.</p> - -<p>In 1938, I was instrumental in having Markova join the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, where she competed with Danilova, Toumanova, and Slavenska. -Her London triumph in our season at Drury Lane was not entirely -unexpected. After all, she was dancing on her home stage. Her -performance in <i>Giselle</i>, on 12th October, 1938, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, made history.</p> - -<p>There was an element in the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo direction, of -which Leonide Massine was not one, that was not at all pleased with the -idea of having Markova with the company. Despite<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_202">{202}</a></span> her great London -success, Alicia decided she would be wise not to come to America.</p> - -<p>Alicia and her mother, I remember, came to the Savoy to see me about -this. Mrs. Hurok and I urged her to reconsider her decision. She was -determined to resign from the company. She did not feel “at home” in the -organization. Although “Freddy” Franklin, who had been a member of the -Markova-Dolin Company, had joined the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, -Alicia felt alone, and she would be without Anton Dolin, and would miss -her family.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hurok and I finally succeeded in dissuading her from her avowed -intention, and in convincing her that a great future for her lay in the -United States.</p> - -<p>From the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo she came to Ballet Theatre, where, -under my management, she co-starred with Dolin. Her roles with that -company as guest star which I arranged and paid for, together with -almost one-half of her salary at other times, for Lucia Chase did not -take kindly to Alicia Markova as a member of Ballet Theatre, and the -American tour of the Markova-Dolin company, all of these I have dealt -with at length.</p> - -<p>During one of the seasons of the London Festival Ballet, which was -organized by Dolin for the two of them, the team came to a parting of -the ways. Like so many associations of this kind, the break could have -been the result of any one or more of a combination of causes. One who -is sincerely interested in both of them, expresses the hope that it may -be only a passing difference. Yet, pursuing a course I follow in the -domestic lives of my personal friends, I apply it to the artistic lives -of these two, and leave it to them to work out their joint and several -destinies. There are limits beyond which even a loyal and fond manager -may not go with impunity.</p> - -<p>One of the greatest <i>ballerinas</i> of our own or any other time, I cannot -say that Markova’s triumphs have not altered her. To be sure, although -she still has a manner that is sometimes reserved, outwardly timid, I -nevertheless happen to know that behind it all lurks a determined, -stubborn, and sometimes downright blind willfulness, coupled with a good -deal of unreasonability. It was not for nothing that she earned from -Leonide Massine the sobriquet of “Chinese Torture”—as Massine used to -put it, “like small drops of water constantly falling on the head.”</p> - -<p>As a dancer, Markova is in the straight and direct classical line, as -Michel Fokine once observed to me, while watching her Giselle.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_203">{203}</a></span></p> - -<p>Bearing these things in mind, including the fact that the gods have been -less than generous to her in matters of face and figure, I am deeply -moved by her expertness, her ethereality, her precision, her simplicity. -Yet, on the other hand, I can only deplore the stylization and mannered -quality she brings to her latter-day performances. When she is at her -best, Markova has something above and beyond technique: a certain -evanescent, purely luminous detachment. All these things reinforce my -conviction that Markova should confine herself to the great classical -interpretations, and recognize her own physical limitations, even within -this field. Her Giselle is in a class by itself. She has made the role -her own. Personally, however, I do not find she gives me the same -satisfaction as the Swan Queen, nor in Fokine’s <i>Les Sylphides</i>. To my -way of thinking, her Swan Queen, while technically precise, lacks both -that deep plumbing of the emotions and the grand, regal manner that the -role requires. Her Prelude in <i>Sylphides</i> is spoiled, in my opinion, by -excessive mannerisms.</p> - -<p>It is in <i>Giselle</i> and <i>The Nutcracker</i> that Markova can bring joy and -pleasure to an immense public, that joy the public always receives, -whether they know the intricate details of ballet or not, by seeing a -great classical <i>ballerina</i> at her best. One of Markova’s best -characterizations was that of Taglioni in Dolin’s <i>Pas de Quatre</i>, a -delightful cameo, yet today, or, at least, the last time I saw it, it, -like her Prelude in <i>Sylphides</i>, suffered from an accretion of manner, -until it bordered on the grotesque.</p> - -<p>One of the qualities Markova has in common with Pavlova, some of whose -qualities she has, is her agelessness. As I said of Pavlova, “genius -knows no age,” so might it be said of Diaghileff’s “little English girl” -now grown up. The great Russian painter and co-founder of the Diaghileff -Ballet, Alexandre Benois, the most noted designer of <i>Giselle</i>, once -asserted that Pavlova’s ability to transmute rather ordinary and -sometimes banal material into unalloyed gold was a theatrical miracle. -It is in roles for which she is peculiarly and individually almost -uniquely fitted that Markova, too, is able to work a theatrical miracle.</p> - -<p>Under the proper direction, under which she will not be left to her own -devices, and will not be required to make her own decisions, but will -have them made for her by a wise and intelligent director conscious of -her limitations, Markova will be able the better to fulfil her destiny. -It is to that desired end that I have been deeply interested in the fact -that she had secured an invitation from the Sadle<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_204">{204}</a></span>r’s Wells Ballet, at -the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, for her to become, once again, a -member of the company, with certain freedoms of action outside the -company when her services are not required. The initial step has been -taken. It is in such a setting that she belongs.</p> - -<p>I hope she will continue in this setting.</p> - -<p>Always I have been her devoted friend from the beginning of her American -successes, and shall continue to be.</p> - -<p>It is <i>ballerinas</i> of the type of Alicia Markova who help make ballet -the great art it is. There are all too few of them.</p> - -<p>Often I have told Anton Dolin that the two of them, Markova and Dolin, -individually and collectively, have been of immeasurable service and -have done great honor to ballet both in England and throughout the -world.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ANTON DOLIN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>The erstwhile Sydney Patrick Chippendall Healey-Kay, metamorphosed into -Anton Dolin whose star has so often paralleled and traversed that of -Markova, was born at Slinfold, Sussex, 20th July, 1904. A principal -dancer of the Diaghileff Ballet at an early age, he was unique as the -only non-Russian <i>premier danseur</i> ever to achieve that position.</p> - -<p>Leaving Diaghileff in 1926, he organized the Nemtchinova-Dolin Ballet, -with which they toured England and Europe. Alternating ballet with the -dramatic and musical theatre, he turned up in New York in Lew Leslie’s -unhappy <i>International Revue</i>, along with Gertrude Lawrence, Harry -Richman, and the unforgettable Argentinita. On his return to London, -Dolin became the first guest-star of the Vic-Wells Ballet before it -exchanged the Vic for Sadler’s.</p> - -<p>In 1935, with the valued help of the late Mrs. Laura Henderson, he was -indefatigable in the formation of the Markova-Dolin Ballet, one of the -results of which was the laying of the foundation stones of ballet’s -popularity in Great Britain. A period with the de Basil company in -Australia was followed by his extended American sojourn, with Ballet -Theatre, the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, as guest artist, <i>The Seven -Lively Arts</i>, the Original Ballet Russe, and again under my management -with the Markova-Dolin company.</p> - -<p>Without making too detailed a research, I should say that the Dolin -literature is nearly as extensive as that about Markova, making due -allowance for the fact that the glamorous <i>ballerina</i> always lends<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_205">{205}</a></span> -herself to the printed page more attractively than her male <i>vis-a-vis</i>. -However, Dolin, often as busy with his pen as with his feet, has added -four volumes of his own authorship to the list. <i>Divertissement</i>, -published in 1931, and <i>Ballet-Go-Round</i>, published in 1938, were -sprightly volumes of autobiographical reminiscence and highly personal -commentary and observation. There has also been a slender volume on the -art of partnering and, more recently, a biographical study of Markova -entitled <i>Alicia Markova: Her Life and Art</i>.</p> - -<p>My acquaintance and friendship with Dolin dates back to the Diaghileff -season of 1925. It is an acquaintance and friendship I value. There is -an old bromide to the effect that dancers’ brains are in their legs. As -in all generalizations of this sort, it contains something more than a -grain of truth. Dolin is one of the shining exceptions to this role. -Shrewd, cultured, with a fine background, he is the possessor of a -poised manner, and something else, which is, I regret to say, rare in -the dancer: a concern for ethics.</p> - -<p>There is a weird opinion held in many parts of this country and on the -continent of Europe, to the effect that the Englishman is a dull and -humorless sort of fellow. This stupid charge is quite beyond the -understanding of any one who has thought twice about the matter. I have -had the pleasure and privilege of knowing England and the English for a -great many years and, as a consequence, I venture to assume the pleasing -privilege of informing a deluded world that, whatever else there may or -may not be in England, there is more fun and laughter to the square acre -than there is to the square mile of any other known quarter. My -observation has been that even if an Englishman does achieve a gravity -alien to the common spirit about him, he is not able to keep it up for -long. Dolin is the possessor of a brilliant sense of humour and much -wit, both often biting; but he has a quality which invites visitations -of the twin spirits of high and low comedy.</p> - -<p>A firm believer in the classical ballet, in Russian ballet, if you will, -Dolin, like his kinsmen in British ballet, gets about his business with, -on the whole, a minimum of fuss. Socially, and I speak from a profound -experience and a personal knowledge drawn from my own Russian roots, the -Russians are unlike any other European people, having a large measure of -the Asiatic disregard for the meaning and use of the clock, the watch, -the sun-dial, or even the primitive hourglass. Slow movement and time -without limit for reflection and conversation are vital to them, and -unless they can pass a substantial<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_206">{206}</a></span> portion of the day in discussions, -they become ill at ease and unhappy. But, although deliberate enough in -most things, they have a way of blazing out almost volcanically if -annoyed or affronted or thwarted. In this latter respect only, the -English-Irish Anton Dolin may be said to be Russian.</p> - -<p>When Dolin’s dancing days are finished, there will always be a job for -“Pat” as an actor—at times, to be sure, with a touch of ham, but always -theatrically effective. He is one of the few dancers who could ever be -at home on the speaking stage.</p> - -<p>In the early founding days of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, I was -very anxious that he join Massine as one of the leading figures of the -company. Dolin shared my desire, and was eager to become a member, but -there did not appear to be any room for him; and, moreover, with Lifar -and Massine in the company, matters were difficult in the extreme, and -plagued by the winds of complexity.</p> - -<p>Dolin’s lovely mother, to whom he is devoted, lived with him in New York -during the period of his residence here. Now that he is back in England, -at the head of his own company, the London Festival Ballet, she is with -him there. It was she, a shrewd pilot of his career, who begged me to -take “Pat” under my wing. A gracious, generous lady, I am as fond of her -as I am of “Pat.” When he was offered a leading dancing and -choreographic post at the inception of Ballet Theatre, he sought my -advice. I was instrumental in his joining the company; he helped me to -take over the management of the company later on.</p> - -<p>His “Russianness” that I have mentioned, releases itself in devastating -flares and flashes of “temperament.” These outbursts express themselves -very often in rapid-fire iteration of a single phrase: “I shan’t dance! -I shan’t dance! I shan’t dance!” Yet I always know that, when the time -comes for his appearance, “Pat” will be on hand. Neither illness nor -accident prevents him from doing his job. There was an occasion on tour, -in the far north and in the midst of an icy blizzard, when he insisted -on dancing with a fever of one hundred three degrees. He may not have -danced with perfection, but he danced.</p> - -<p>Today, and in the past as well, there are and have been some who have -not cared for his dancing. Certain sections of the press have the habit -of developing a pronouncedly captious tone in dealing with Dolin the -dancer. I would remind those persons of the perfectly amazing theatrical -sense Dolin always exhibits. I would re<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_207">{207}</a></span>mind them that, in my opinion -and in the opinion of others more finely attuned to the niceties of the -classical dance, Dolin is one of the finest supporting partners it is -possible for a <i>ballerina</i> to have. Markova is never shown to her best -advantage with any other male dancer than Anton Dolin. My opinion, on -which I make no concessions to any one, is that Dolin is one of the -finest Albrechts in the world today. Without Dolin, <i>Giselle</i> remains -but half a ballet.</p> - -<p>As a <i>re</i>-creator, he has few peers and no superiors. I can think of no -one better qualified to recreate a masterpiece of another era, with -regard to the creator’s true intent and meaning, nor do I know of any -choreographer who has a greater feeling, a finer sense, or a more humble -respect for “period and tradition.”</p> - -<p>As a dancer, there are still roles which require a minimum of dancing -and a maximum of acting. These roles are preeminently Dolin’s, and in -these he cannot be equaled.</p> - -<p>As for Anton Dolin, the person, as opposed to Anton Dolin, the artist, -he is that rare bird in ballet: a loyal friend, blessedly free from that -besetting balletic sin—envy; generous, kindly, human, always helpful, -ever the good comrade. Would that dance had more men of his character, -his liberality, his broadmindedness, his ever-present readiness to be of -service to his colleagues.</p> - -<p>Although “Pat” is not above certain meannesses, certain capriciousness, -he has an uncanny gift of penetrating to the heart of a matter, and his -ability to hit the nail on the very centre of the head often gains for -him the advantage over people who have the reputation of being experts -in their particular callings.</p> - -<p>On the very top of all is his ability to open the charm tap at will. On -occasion, I have been of a mind to choke him, so annoyed have I been at -him. We have parted in a cloud of aggravation and exacerbation. Yet, on -meeting him an hour later, there was only an Irish smile with twinkling -eyes, all radiating good will and genuine affection.</p> - -<p>This is the Anton Dolin I know, the Dolin I like best.</p> - -<p>As these lines are written, all concerned are working on a budget to -determine if it is not possible to bring Dolin and his company to -America for a visit. It is my hope that satisfactory arrangements can be -made, for it would give me great pleasure to present “Pat” at the head -of his fine organization. I can only say to Dolin that if we succeed in -completing mutually agreeable conditions: “What a job we will do for -you!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_208">{208}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a id="c_12">12.</a> Ballet Climax— Sadler’s Wells And After....</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">S</span><b>ADLER’S WELLS</b>—a name with which to conjure—had been a part of my -balletic consciousness for a long time. I had observed its early -beginnings, its growth from the Old Vic to Sadler’s Wells to the Royal -Opera House, Covent Garden, with the detached interest of a ballet lover -from another land. I had read about it, heard about it from many people, -but I had not had any first hand experience of it since the Covent -Garden Opera Trust had invited the Sadler’s Wells Ballet to move to -Covent Garden from their famous ballet center, Sadler’s Wells. This they -did, early in 1946, leaving behind yet another company called the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet.</p> - -<p>I arrived in London in April, 1946, at a time when I was very definitely -under the impression that I would give up any active participation in -ballet in any other form than as an interested member of the audience.</p> - -<p>The London to which I returned was, in a sense, a strange London—a -London just after the war, a city devastated by bombs, a city that had -suffered grave wounds both physical and spiritual, a city of austerity.</p> - -<p>It was also a London wherein I found, wherever I went, a people whose -spirits were, nevertheless, high; human beings whose<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_209">{209}</a></span> chins were up. The -typical Cockney taxi-driver who brought me from Waterloo to my long-time -headquarters, the Savoy, summed it all up on my arrival, when he said: -“We’ll come out of this orlrite. We weren’t born in the good old English -climate for nothin’. It’s all a bit of a disappointment; but we’re used -to disappointments, we are. Why when ah was a kid as we ’ad a nice -little picnic all arranged for Saturday afternoon, as sure as fate it -rained and the bleedin’ picnic was put orf again.... We’re goin’ to ’ave -our picnic one day; this ’ere picnic’s just been put orf, that’s -all....”</p> - -<p>As the porters were disposing of my luggage, the genial commissionaire -at the Savoy, Joe Hanson, added his bit to the general optimism. After -greeting me, he asked me if I had heard about the shipwreck in the -Thames, opposite the Savoy. I had not, and wondered how I had missed the -news of such a catastrophe.</p> - -<p>“Well, it was like this, guv’nor,” he said. “Churchill, Eden, Atlee and -Ernie Bevin went out on the river in a small boat to look the place -over. Just as they were a-passin’ the ’otel ’ere, a sudden squall blew -up and the boat was capsized.”</p> - -<p>He paused and blew his nose vociferously into a capacious kerchief. “Who -do you think was saved?”</p> - -<p>“Churchill?” I enquired.</p> - -<p>He shook his head in the negative.</p> - -<p>“Eden?”</p> - -<p>He shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Atlee?”</p> - -<p>Again he shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Bevin?”</p> - -<p>Once more the negative.</p> - -<p>“No one saved?” I could hardly believe my ears.</p> - -<p>“Ah, there’s where you’re wrong, sir.... <i>England</i> was saved!”</p> - -<p>The commissionaire’s big frame shook with prideful laughter.</p> - -<p>I freshened myself in my room and went down to my favorite haunt, my -London H. Q., as I like to call it, the Savoy Grill, that gathering -place of the theatrical, musical, literary, and balletic worlds of -London. One of the Savoy Grill’s chief fixtures, and for me one of its -most potent attractions, was the always intriguing buffet, with my -favorite Scottish salmon. This time the buffet, while putting up a brave -decorative front, was a little disappointing and, to tell the truth, a -shade depressing.</p> - -<p>But a glance at the entertainment advertisements in <i>The Times</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_210">{210}</a></span> (the -“Thunderer,” I noted, was now a four-page sheet) showed me that the -entertainment world was in full swing, and there was excitement in the -air.</p> - -<p>I dined alone in the Grill, then returned to my room and changed to -black tie and all, for it was to be a festive evening, and walked the -short distance between the Savoy Hotel and the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden. I was going to the ballet in a completely non-professional -capacity, as a member of the audience, going for the sheer fun of going, -with nary a balletic problem on my mind.</p> - -<p>I was to be the guest of David Webster, the Administrator of Covent -Garden, who met me at the door and, after a brief chat, escorted me to -my seat. My eyes traveled around the famous and historic Opera House, -only recently saved from the ignominy of becoming a public dance hall. -Here it was, shining and dignified in fresh paint, in damask, and in the -new warm red plush <i>fauteuils</i>; poor though Britain was, the house had -just been remodelled, redecorated, reseated, with a new and most -attractive “crush bar” installed.</p> - -<p>The depression I had felt earlier in the day vanished completely. Now -that evening had come, there was a different aspect, a changed -atmosphere. I looked at the audience that made up the sold-out house. -From the top to the bottom of the great old Opera House they were a -happy, relaxed, anticipatory people, ready to be entertained and -stimulated. In the stalls, the audience was well-dressed and some of the -evening frocks were, I felt, of marked splendor. But the less expensive -portions of the house were filled, too, and I remembered something that -great director, Ninette de Valois, who had made all this possible, had -said way back in 1937: “The gallery, the pit [American readers should -understand that the “pit” in the British theatre is usually that part of -the house behind the “stalls” or orchestra seats, and is not, as in the -States, the orchestra pit where the musicians are placed] and the -amphitheatre are the basis and backbone of the people s theatre.... That -they are the most loyal supporters will be maintained with deep -appreciation by those who control the future of the ballet.”</p> - -<p>There was, as I have said, an anticipatory atmosphere on the part of the -audience, as if the temper of the people had become graver, simpler, and -more concentrated; as if, during the war, when the opportunities for -recreation and amusement were more re<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_211">{211}</a></span>stricted, transport more limited, -the intelligence craved and sought those antidotes to a troubled -consciousness of which ballet and its allied arts are the most potent.</p> - -<p>While I relaxed and waited for the rising curtain with that same -anticipatory glow that I always feel, yet, somehow, intensified tonight, -I reflected, too, on the miracle that had been wrought. I remembered -David Webster had told me how, only the year before, the company was -preparing for a good-will tour to South America, and how the sudden end -of the war had made that trip impracticable and unnecessary. It had -become more urgent to have the company at home. Negotiations had been -initiated between the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, the British Arts Council, -and Boosey and Hawkes, who had taken over the Covent Garden lease, for -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet to make its headquarters at Covent Garden, -where it would be presented by the Covent Carden Opera Trust. Having -been turned into a cheap dance hall before the war, Covent Garden’s -restoration as a theatre devoted to the finest in opera and ballet -required very careful planning.</p> - -<p>All of this whetted my appetite. My eyes traveled to the Royal Box, to -the Royal Crest on the great curtains, to the be-wigged footmen.... -Slowly the lights came down to a dull glow, went out. A sound of -applause greeted the entry into the orchestra pit of the conductor, the -greatly talented musical director of the Sadler’s Wells organization, -Constant Lambert. In a moment, the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, was -filled with the magnificent sound of the overture to Tchaikowsky’s <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, played as only Lambert could play it.</p> - -<p>Then the curtain rose, revealing Oliver Messel’s perfectly wonderful -setting for the first act of this magnificent full-length ballet. Over -all, about all, was the great music of Tchaikowsky. My eyes, my ears, my -heart were being filled to overflowing.</p> - -<p>The biggest moment of all came with the entrance of Margot Fonteyn as -the Princess. I was overwhelmed by her entire performance; but I think -it was her first entrance that made the greatest impact on me, with the -fresh youthfulness of the young Princess, the radiant gaiety of all the -fairy tale heroines of the world’s literature compressed into one.</p> - -<p>I was so enchanted as I followed the stage and the music that I forgot -all else but the miraculous unfolding of this Perrault-Tchaikowsky fairy -story.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_212">{212}</a></span></p> - -<p>Here, at last, was great ballet. The art of pantomime, so long dormant -in ballet in America, had been restored in all its clarity and -simplicity of meaning. The high quality of the dancing by the -principals, soloists, and <i>corps de ballet</i>, the settings, the costumes, -the lighting, all literally transported me to another world. I knew -then, in a great revelation, that great ballet was here to stay.</p> - -<p>“This is Ballet!” I said, almost half aloud.</p> - -<p>After the performance, back at the Savoy Grill once more, at supper I -met, once again, Ninette de Valois, whose taste and drive and -determination and abilities have made Sadler’s Wells the magnificent -institution it is.</p> - -<p>“Madame,” I said to her, “I think you’re ready to go to the States.”</p> - -<p>“Are we?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I replied, “you are ready.”</p> - -<p>The supper was gay and charming and animated. I was filled with -enthusiasm and was a long time falling asleep that night.</p> - -<p>After that evening, there was no longer any attitude of “to hell with -ballet” on my part. Ballet, I realized, with a fresh conviction -solidifying the revelation I had had the night before, was here to stay. -“To hell with ballet” had given way to “three cheers for ballet!”</p> - -<p>After breakfast, the next morning, I telephoned David Webster to invite -him to luncheon so that I might discuss details of the proposed American -venture with him. During the course of the luncheon we went into all the -major points and problems. Webster, I found, shared my enthusiasm for -the idea and agreed in principle.</p> - -<p>But, in accordance with the traditionally British manner, the thought -and care and consideration that is given to every phase and every -department, every suggestion, every idea, such matters do not move as -swiftly as they do in the States. Before I started out for my usual -London “constitutional” backwards and forwards across Waterloo Bridge, -from where one looks up the Thames towards the Houses of Parliament and -Big Ben, mother of all our freedoms, I sent flowers to Margot Fonteyn -with a note of appreciation for her magnificent performance of the night -before and for the great pleasure she had given me.</p> - -<p>There followed extended discussions with Ninette de Valois, the Director -of whom, perhaps, the outstanding characteristic is that her outlook is -such that her greatest ambition is to see the Sadler’s Wells Ballet -become such an institution in its own right that, as she puts it,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_213">{213}</a></span> “no -one will know the name of the director.” However, before any decisions -could be reached, it became necessary for me to get home. So, with the -whole business still very much up in the air, I returned to New York.</p> - -<p>No sooner was I back in my office than there came an invitation from -Mayor William O’Dwyer and Grover Whalen for me to take over the -direction of the dance activities for the Festival for the One Hundred -Fiftieth Anniversary Celebration of the City of New York. I accepted the -honor in the hope that I might be able to organize a completely -international and representative Dance Festival, wherein the leading -exponents of ballet and other forms of dance would have an opportunity -to demonstrate their varied repertoires and techniques. To that end, I -sent invitations in the name of the City of New York to all the leading -dance organizations in the world, seeking their participation in the -Festival. The response was unanimously immediate and enthusiastic; but, -unfortunately, many of the organizations, possessing interesting -repertoires and styles, were not in a position to undertake the costs of -travel from far distant points, together with the heavy expenses for the -transportation of scenery, equipment, and costumes. Among these was the -newly-organized San Francisco Civic Ballet.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells organization accepted the invitation in principle, as -did the Paris Opera Ballet, through its director, Monsieur Georges -Hirsch. Ram Gopal, brilliant exponent of the dance of India, accepted -through his manager Julian Braunsweg; and, in this case, I was able to -assist him in his financial problems, by bringing him at my own expense. -Representing our native American dance were Doris Humphrey and Charles -Weidman, together with their company. I happen to feel this group is one -of the most representative of all our native practitioners of the “free” -dance, in works that often come to grips with the problems and conflicts -of life, and which eschew, at least for the time, pure abstraction. Most -notable of these works, works in this form, is their trilogy: <i>New -Dance</i>—<i>Theatre Piece</i>—<i>With My Red Fires</i> American dance groups were -invited but for one reason or another were not able to accept.</p> - -<p>As preparations for the Festival moved ahead, David Webster arrived from -London to investigate the physical possibilities for the participation -of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet as the national ballet of Great Britain.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_214">{214}</a></span></p> - -<p>The logical place for a Dance Festival of such proportions and such -significance, and one of such avowedly international and civic nature, -would have been the Metropolitan Opera House. Unfortunately, the -Metropolitan had commitments with another ballet company. My friend and -colleague, Edward Johnson, the then General Manager of the Metropolitan -Opera Company, regretted the situation and did everything in his power -to remedy the position and free our first lyric theatre for such an -important civic event. However, the other dance organization insisted on -its contractual rights and refused to give way, or to divide the time in -any way.</p> - -<p>The only other place left, therefore, was the New York City Center, in -West Fifty-fifth Street. Webster made a thorough inspection of this -former Masonic Temple from front to back, but found the place entirely -inadequate, with a stage and an orchestra pit infinitely too small, and -the theatre itself quite unsatisfactory for a company the size of the -Covent Garden organization and productions. As a matter of fact, it -would be hard to find a less satisfactory theatre for ballet production.</p> - -<p>As Webster and I went over the premises together, I sensed his feeling -about the building, which I shared. Nevertheless, I tried to hide my -disappointment when, at last, he turned to me and said: “It’s no go. We -can’t play here. Let us postpone the visit till we can come to be seen -on your only appropriate stage, the Metropolitan.”</p> - -<p>We had had preliminary meetings with the British Consul General and his -staff; plans and promotion were rapidly crystallizing, and my -disappointment was none the less keen simply because I knew the reasons -for the postponement were sound, and that it could not be otherwise.</p> - -<p>The Dance Festival itself, without Sadler’s Wells, had its successes and -left a mark on the local dance scene. The City Center was no more -satisfactory, I am afraid, for the Ballet of the Opera of Paris, -presented by the French National Lyric Theatre, under the auspices of -the Cultural Relations Department of the French Foreign Ministry, than -it would have been for the Covent Garden company. It was necessary to -trim the scenery, omit much of it, and use only part of the personnel of -the company at a time. But, on the other hand, it was a genuine pleasure -to welcome them on their first visit to the United States and Canada. In -addition to the Dance Festival Season in New York, we played highly -successful engagements in Montreal, Toronto, and Chicago.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_215">{215}</a></span></p> - -<p>The company was headed by a distinguished French <i>ballerina</i> in the true -French style, Yvette Chauviré. Other principal members of the company, -all from the higher echelons of the Paris Opera, included Roger Ritz, -Christiane Vaussard, Michel Renault, Alexandre Kalioujny, Micheline -Bardin, and Max Bozzini, with Robert Blot and Richard Blareau as -conductors. The repertoire included <i>Ports of Call</i>, Serge Lifar’s -ballet to Jacques Ibert’s <i>Escales</i>; <i>Salad</i>, a Lifar work to a Darius -Milhaud creation; Lifar’s setting of Ravel’s <i>Pavane</i>; <i>The Wise -Animals</i>, based on the Jean de la Fontaine fables, by Lifar, to music by -Francis Poulenc; <i>Suite in White</i>, from Eduardo Lalo’s <i>Naouma</i>; <i>Punch -and the Policeman</i>, staged by Lifar to a score by Jolivet; -<i>Divertissement</i>, cuttings from Tchaikowsky’s <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>; -<i>The Peri</i>, Lifar’s staging of the well-known ballet score by Paul -Dukas; <i>The Crystal Palace</i>, Balanchine’s ballet to Bizet’s symphony, -known here as <i>Symphony in C</i>; Vincent d’Indy’s <i>Istar</i>, in the Lifar -choreography; <i>Gala Evening</i>, taken from Delibes’ <i>La Source</i>, by Leo -Staats; Albert Aveline’s <i>Elvira</i>, to Scarlatti melodies orchestrated by -Roland Manuel; André Messager’s <i>The Two Pigeons</i>, choreographed by -Albert Aveline; the Rameau <i>Castor and Pollux</i>, staged by Nicola Guerra; -<i>The Knight and the Maiden</i>, a two-act romantic ballet, staged by Lifar -to a score by Philippe Gaubert; and <i>Les Mirages</i>, a classical work by -Lifar, to music by Henri Sauguet.</p> - -<p>Serge Lifar returned to America, not to dance, but as the choreographer -of the company of which he is the head.</p> - -<p>I happen to know certain facts about Lifar’s behavior during the -Occupation of France, facts I did not know at the time of the -publication of my earlier book, <i>Impresario</i>. Certain statements I made -in that book concerning Serge Lifar were made on the basis of such -information as I had at the time, which I believed was reliable. I have -subsequently learned that it was not correct, and I have also -subsequently had additional, quite different, and reliably documented -information which makes me wish to acknowledge that an error of judgment -was expressed on the basis of inconclusive evidence. Lifar may not have -been a hero; very possibly, and quite probably, he may have been -indiscreet; but it is now obvious to any fair-minded person that there -has been a good deal of malicious gossip spread about him.</p> - -<p>Lifar was restored to his post at the head of the Paris Opera Ballet by -M. Georges Hirsch, Administrator, Director of the French National Lyric -Theatres, himself a war-hero with a distinguished rec<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_216">{216}</a></span>ord. The dancers -of the Paris Opera Ballet threatened to strike unless Lifar was so -restored; the stage-hands, with definite indications of Communist -inspiration, to strike if he was. Hirsch had the courage of his -convictions. I have found that Lifar did not take the Paris Opera Ballet -to Berlin during the Occupation, as has been alleged in this country, -although the Germans wanted it badly; and I happen to know numerous -other French companies did go. I also have learned that it was Serge -Lifar who prevented the Paris Opera Ballet from going. I happen to know -that Lifar did fly in a German plane to Kieff, his birthplace; as I -happen to know that he did not show Hitler through the Paris Opera -itself, as one widely-spread rumor has had it. As a matter of fact, -stories to the effect that he did both these things have been widely -circulated. I happen to have learned that Lifar made a tremendous effort -to save that splendid gentleman, René Blum, but was unable to prevail -against Blum’s patriotic but unfortunately stupid determination to -remain in Paris. I also happen to know that Lifar was personally active -in saving many Jews and also other liberals from deportation. Moreover, -I know that, as has always been characteristic of Lifar, because he was -one who had, he helped from his own pocket those who had not.</p> - -<p>The performances of the Ballet of the Paris Opera at the City Center -were not the slightest proof of the quality of its productions or its -performance. The shocking limitations of the playhouse made necessary a -vast reduction of its personnel, its scenery, its essential quality. The -Paris Opera Ballet is, of course, a State Ballet in the fullest sense of -the term. It is an aristocratic organization, conscious of the great -tradition that hangs over it. The air is thick with it. Its dancers are -civil servants of the Republic of France and their promotion in rank -follows upon a strict examination pattern. It would be interesting one -day to see the company at the Metropolitan Opera House, where its -original setting could be approximated, although I fear the Metropolitan -has nothing comparable with the <i>foyer de la dance</i> of the Paris Opera.</p> - -<p>Here is ballet on a big scale and in the grand manner, with all the -scenic and costume panoply of the art at its most grandiose. It is the -sort of fine ballet that succeeds in giving the art an immense -popularity with the masses.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, I am negotiating with the very able Maurice -Lehmann, the successor to Georges Hirsch as Director-General of the -Opera, and I can think of no happier result than to be<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_217">{217}</a></span> able to bring -this rich example of the balletic art of France to America under the -proper circumstances and conditions, if for no other reason than to -compensate the organization for their previous visit.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>The International Dance Festival over, my chief desire was to bring -Sadler’s Wells to this continent.</p> - -<p>Perhaps it would be as well, for the sake of the reader who may be -unfamiliar with its background and thus disposed to regard this as -merely another ballet company, to shed a bit of light on the Sadler’s -Wells organization.</p> - -<p>Following the death of Diaghileff, in 1929, we knew that ballet in -Britain was in a sad state of decline, from which it might well never -have emerged had it not been for two groups, the Ballet Club of Marie -Rambert and the Camargo Society. Each was to be of vital importance to -the ballet picture in Britain and, indirectly, in the world. The -offspring of the Ballet Club was the Rambert Ballet; that of the Camargo -Society, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet. As a matter of fact, the Camargo -Society, a Sunday night producing club, utilized the Ballet Club dancers -and another studio group headed by the lady now known as Dame Ninette de -Valois, D.B.E., D. Litt.</p> - -<p>Back in 1931, at the time of the formation of the Camargo Society, the -little acorn from which grew a mighty British oak, Dame Ninette, -“Madame” as she is known to all who know her, was plain Ninette de -Valois, who was born Edris Stannus, in Ireland, in 1898. She had joined -the Diaghileff Ballet as a dancer in 1923, had risen to the rank of -soloist (a rare accomplishment for a non-Russian), and left the great -man, daring to differ with him on the direction he was taking, something -amounting to <i>lese majesté</i>. She had produced plays, in the meantime, at -Dublin’s famous Abbey Theatre and at Cambridge University’s Festival -Theatre; and had also formed a choreographic group of her own which she -brought along to the Camargo Society to cooperate. When she did so, she -was far from famous. As a matter of fact, she was, to all intents and -purposes, unknown.</p> - -<p>One Sunday night in 1931, two things happened to Ninette de Valois: she -became famous overnight, which, knowing her as I do, was of much less -importance to her than the fact that, quite unwittingly, she laid the -foundation for a British National Ballet under her own direction.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_218">{218}</a></span></p> - -<p>The work she produced for the Camargo Society on this Sunday night in -1931 did it. It was not a ballet in the strictest or accepted sense of -the word. Its composer called it <i>A Masque for Dancing</i>. The work was -<i>Job</i>, a danced and mimed interpretation of the Biblical story, in the -spirit of the painter and poet Blake, to one of Ralph Vaughan Williams’s -noblest scores.</p> - -<p>From Biblical inspiration she turned to the primitive, in a production -of Darius Milhaud’s <i>Creation du Monde</i>, a noble subject dealing with -the primitive gods of Easter Island, set to the 1923 jazz of the French -composer.</p> - -<p>Coincidental with the Camargo Society activities, Ninette de Valois was -making arrangements with another great Englishwoman, Lilian Baylis, who -had brought opera and drama to the masses at two theatres in the less -fashionable parts of London, the Old Vic, in the Waterloo Road, and -Sadler’s Wells, in Islington’s Rosebery Avenue. Lilian Baylis wanted a -ballet company. Armed with only her own determination and -high-mindedness, she had established a real theatre for the masses.</p> - -<p>Ninette de Valois, for a penny, started in with her group to do the -opera ballets at the Old Vic: those interludes in <i>Carmen</i> and <i>Faust</i> -and <i>Samson and Delilah</i> that exist primarily to keep the dull -businessman in his seat with his wife instead of at the bar. However, -Lilian Baylis gave Ninette de Valois a ballet school, and it was in the -theatre, where a ballet school belonged, a part of and an adjunct to the -theatre. The Vic-Wells Ballet, soon to become the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, -was the result.</p> - -<p>It was not nearly as easy and as simple as it sounds as I write it. It -is beyond me fully to convey to the reader those qualities of tenacity -of purpose, of driving energy, of fearless courage that this remarkable -woman was forced to draw upon in the early years. There was no money; -and before a single penny could be separated from her, it had to be -melted from the glue with which she stuck every penny to the inside of -her purse.</p> - -<p>Alicia Markova joined the company. Anton Dolin was a frequent guest -artist. It was, in a sense, a Markova company, with the three most -popular works: <i>Swan Lake</i>, <i>The Nutcracker</i>, and <i>Giselle</i>.</p> - -<p>But, most importantly, Ninette de Valois had that vital requisite -without which, no matter how solvent the financial backing, no ballet -company is worth the price of its toe-shoes, viz., a policy. Ninette de -Valois’ policy for repertoire is codified into a simple formula:<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_219">{219}</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>1) Traditional-classical and romantic works.</p> - -<p>2) Modern works of future classic importance.</p> - -<p>3) Current work of more topical interest.</p> - -<p>4) Works encouraging a strictly national tendency in their creation -generally.</p> - -<p>The first constitutes the foundation-stone, technical standard, and -historical knowledge that is demanded as a “means test” by which -the abilities of the young dancers are both developed and inspired.</p> - -<p>The second, those works which both musically and otherwise have a -future that may be regarded as the major works of this generation.</p> - -<p>The third, the topical and sometimes experimental, of merely -ephemeral interest and value, yet important as a means of balancing -an otherwise ambitious programme.</p> - -<p>The fourth is important to the national significance of the ballet. -Such works constitute the nation’s own contribution to the theatre, -and are in need perhaps of the most careful guidance of the groups.</p></div> - -<p>It was the classics which had, from the beginning, the place of -priority: <i>Swan Lake (Act II)</i>, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Carnaval</i>, <i>Coppélia</i>, -<i>The Nutcracker</i>, <i>Giselle</i>, and the full-length <i>Swan Lake</i>.</p> - -<p>In 1935, Markova left Sadler’s Wells to form her own company with Dolin. -With Markova’s departure, the whole character of the Sadler’s Wells -company changed. The Company became the Star. The company got along -without a <i>ballerina</i> and concentrated on its own personality, on -developing dancers from its school, and on its direction. Creation and -development continued.</p> - -<p>However, during this time, there was emerging not precisely a “star,” -but a great <i>ballerina</i>. <i>Ballerina</i> is a term greatly misused in the -United States, where any little dancer is much too often referred to -both in the press and in general conversation in this way. <i>Ballerina</i> -is a title, not a term. The title is one earned only through long, hard -experience. It is attained <i>only</i> in the highly skilled interpretation -of the great standard classical parts. Russia, France, Italy, Denmark, -countries where there are state ballets, know these things. We in the -United States, I fear, do not understand. A “star” is not one merely by -virtue of billing. A <i>ballerina</i> is, of course, a “star,” even in a -company that has no “stars” in its billing and advertising. A true -<i>ballerina</i> is a rare bird indeed. In an entire generation, it should be -remembered, the Russian Imperial Ballet produced only enough for the -fingers of two hands.</p> - -<p>The great <i>ballerina</i> I have mentioned as having come up through the -Sadler’s Wells Company, as the product of that company, is more than a -<i>ballerina</i>. She is a <i>prima ballerina assoluta</i>, a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_220">{220}</a></span> product of Sadler’s -Wells training, of the Sadler’s Wells system, a member of that all-round -team that is Sadler’s Wells. Her name is Margot Fonteyn. I shall have -something to say about her later on.</p> - -<p>I have pointed out that the backbone of the Sadler’s Wells repertoire is -the classics. Therein, in my opinion, lies one of the chief reasons for -its great success. There is a second reason, I believe. That is that, -along with Ninette de Valois’ sound production policy, keeping step with -it, sometimes leading it, is an equally sound musical policy. Sitting in -with de Valois and Frederick Ashton, as the third of the directorial -triumvirate, was the brilliant musician, critic, and wit, Constant -Lambert, who exerted a powerful influence in the building of the -repertoire, and who, with the sympathetic cooperation of his two -colleagues, made the musical standards of Sadler’s Wells the highest of -any ballet company in my knowledge and experience.</p> - -<p>The company grew and prospered. The war merely served to intensify its -efforts—and its accomplishments. Its war record is a brilliant, albeit -a difficult one; a record of unremitting hard work and dogged -perseverance against terrible odds. The company performed unceasingly -throughout the course of the war, with bombs falling. Once the dancing -was stopped, while the dancers fought a fire ignited by an incendiary -bomb and thus saved the theatre. The company was on a good-will tour of -Holland, under the auspices of the British Council, in the spring of -1940. They were at Arnheim when Hitler invaded. Packed into buses, they -raced ahead of the Panzers, reached the last boat to leave, left minus -everything, but everything: productions, scenery, costumes, properties, -musical material, and every scrap of personal clothing.</p> - -<p>Once back in Britain, there was no cessation. The lost productions and -costumes were replaced; the musical material renewed, some of it, since -it was manuscript, by reorchestrating it from gramophone recordings. As -the Battle of Britain was being fought, the company toured the entire -country, with two pianos in lieu of orchestra, with Constant Lambert -playing the first piano. They played in halls, in theatres, in camps, in -factories; brought ballet to soldiers and sailors, to airmen, and to -factory workers, often by candlelight. They managed to create new works. -Back to London, to a West End theatre, with orchestra, and then, because -of the crowds, to a larger West End playhouse.</p> - -<p>It was at the end of the war, as I have mentioned earlier, that the -music publishing house of Boosey and Hawkes, with a splendid<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_221">{221}</a></span> -generosity, saved the historic Royal Opera House, at Covent Garden, from -being turned into a popular dance hall. A common error on the part of -Americans is to believe that because it was called the Royal Opera -House, it was a State-supported theatre, as, for example, are the Royal -Opera House of Denmark, at Copenhagen, and the Paris Opéra. Among those -Maecenases who had made opera possible in the old days in London was Sir -Thomas Beecham, who made great personal sacrifices to keep it open.</p> - -<p>When Boosey and Hawkes took over Covent Garden, it was on a term lease. -On taking possession they immediately turned over the historic edifice -to a committee known as the Covent Garden Opera Trust, of which the -chairman was Lord Keynes, the distinguished economist and art patron -who, as plain Mr. John Maynard Keynes, had been instrumental in the -formation of the Camargo Society, and who had married the one-time -Diaghileff <i>ballerina</i>, Lydia Lopokova; this committee had acted as -god-parents to the Sadler’s Wells company in its infancy. The Arts -Council supported the venture, and David Webster was appointed -Administrator.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>A word or two about the Arts Council and its support of the arts in -Britain is necessary for two reasons: one, because it is germane to the -story of Sadler’s Wells, and, two, germane to some things I wish to -point out in connection with subsidy of the arts in these troubled -times, since I believe a parallel can be drawn with our own hit-and-miss -financing.</p> - -<p>Under the British system, there is no attempt to interfere with -aesthetics. The late Sir Stafford Cripps pointed out that the Government -should interfere as little as possible in the free development of art. -The British Government’s attitude has, perhaps, been best stated by -Clement Atlee, as Prime Minister, when he said: “I think that we are all -of one mind in desiring that art should be free.” He added that he -thought the essential purpose of an organized society was to set free -the creative energies of the individual, while safeguarding the -well-being of all. The Government, he continued, must try to provide -conditions in which art might flourish.</p> - -<p>There is no “Ministry of Fine Arts” as in most continental and South -American countries. The Government’s interest in making art better known -and more within the reach of all is expressed through three bodies: the -Arts Council, the British Film Institute, and the British Council.</p> - -<p>The Arts Council was originally known by the rather unwieldy<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_222">{222}</a></span> handle of -C. E. M. A. (The Council for the Encouragement of Music and the Arts), -originally founded by a gift from an American and Lord De La Warr, then -President of the Board of Education. In 1945, the Government decided to -continue the work, changed the name from C. E. M. A. to the Arts Council -of Great Britain, gave it Parliamentary financial support, and granted -it, on 9 August, 1946, a Royal Charter to develop “a greater knowledge, -understanding and practice of fine arts exclusively, and in particular -to increase the availability of the fine arts to the public ... to -improve the standard of the execution of the fine arts and to advise and -cooperate with ... Government departments, local authorities and other -bodies on matters concerned directly or indirectly with those objects.”</p> - -<p>Now, the Arts Council, while sponsored by the Government, is not a -Government department. Its chairman and governors (called members of the -Council) are appointed by the Chancellor of the Exchequer after -consultation with the Minister of Education and the Secretary of State -for Scotland. The Chancellor answers for the Council in the House of -Commons. While the Council is supported by a Government grant, its -employees are in no sense civil servants, and the Council enjoys an -independence that would not be possible were it a Government department.</p> - -<p>The first chairman of the Arts Council, and also a former chairman of C. -E. M. A., was Lord Keynes. His influence on the policy and direction of -the organization was invaluable. There are advisory boards, known as -panels, appointed for three years, experts chosen by the Council because -of their standing in and knowledge of their fields. Among many others, -the following well-known artists have served, without payment: Sir -Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Noel Coward, Peggy Ashcroft, J. B. -Priestley, Dame Myra Hess, Benjamin Britten, Tyrone Guthrie, Dame -Ninette de Valois, and Henry Moore.</p> - -<p>While statistics can be dull, a couple are necessary to the picture to -show how the Arts Council operates. For example, the Arts Council’s -annual grant from the British Treasury has risen each year: in -1945-1946, the sum was £235,000 ($658,000); in 1950-1951, £675,000 -($1,890,000).</p> - -<p>Treasury control is maintained through a Treasury Assessor to the Arts -Council; on his advice, the Chancellor of the Exchequer recommends to -Parliament a sum to be granted. The Assessor is in a position to judge -whether the money is being properly distributed, but he does not -interfere with the complete autonomy of the Council.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_223">{223}</a></span></p> - -<p>The Council, in its turn, supports the arts of the country by giving -financial assistance or guarantees to organizations, companies, and -societies; by directly providing concerts and exhibitions; or by -directly managing and operating a company or theatre. The recipient -organizations, for their part, must be non-profit or charitable trusts -capable of helping carry out the Council’s purpose of bringing to the -British people entertainment of a high standard. Such organizations must -have been accepted as non-profit companies by H. M. Commissioners of -Customs and Excise, and exempted by them from liability to pay -Entertainments Duty.</p> - -<p>An example of the help tendered may be gathered from the fact that in -1950, eight festivals, ten symphony orchestras, five theatres, -twenty-five theatre companies, seven opera and ballet companies, one -society for poetry and music, two art societies, four arts centers, and -sixty-three clubs were being helped. In addition, two theatres, three -theatre companies, and one arts center were entirely and exclusively -managed by the Arts Council. Some of the best-known British orchestras, -theatres, and companies devoted to opera, ballet, and the drama are -linked to the Arts Council: The Hallé Orchestra, the London Philharmonic -Orchestra, the London Symphony Orchestra, Covent Garden Opera Trust, -Covent Garden Opera Company, and the Sadler’s Wells Companies are among -them. Also the Old Vic, Tennent Productions, Ltd., and the Young Vic -Theatre companies.</p> - -<p>Government assistance to opera in twentieth century Britain did not -begin with the Arts Council. In the early ’thirties Parliament granted a -small subsidy to the Covent Garden Opera Syndicate for some two years to -help present grand opera in Covent Garden and the provinces at popular -prices. A total of £40,000 ($112,000) had been paid when the grant was -withdrawn after the financial crisis of 1931, and it was more than ten -years before national opera became a reality.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, some ballet companies and an opera company began to -receive C. E. M. A. support. The Sadler’s Wells Opera Company and -Sadler’s Wells Ballet Company, for instance, began their association -with C. E. M. A. in 1943. C. E. M. A. was also interested in plans -stirring in 1944 and 1945 to reclaim the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden, as a national center for ballet and opera. I have pointed out -how this great theatre in London, with a history dating back to the -eighteenth century, was leased in 1944 by the interna<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_224">{224}</a></span>tional music firm -of Boosey and Hawkes, who, in turn, rented it to the newly formed Covent -Garden Opera Trust. The Trust, an autonomous body whose original -chairman was Lord Keynes, is a non-profit body which devotes any profits -it may make to Trust projects. Late in 1949, H. M. Ministry of Works -succeeded Boosey and Hawkes as lessees, with a forty-two-year lease.</p> - -<p>The Arts Council, in taking over from C. E. M. A., inherited C. E. M. -A.’s interest in using Covent Garden for national ballet and opera. The -Council granted Covent Garden £25,000 ($70,000) for the year ended 31 -March, 1946, and £55,000 ($154,000) for the following year. At the same -time, it was granting Sadler’s Wells Foundation £10,000 ($28,000) and -£15,000 ($42,000) in those years.</p> - -<p>The Covent Garden Opera Trust, in the meantime, had invited the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet to move to Covent Garden from their famous ballet center, -Sadler’s Wells. This it did, early in 1946, leaving behind another -company called the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. Ninette de Valois -continued to direct both groups.</p> - -<p>It was a year later the Covent Garden Opera Company gave its first -presentation under the Covent Garden Opera Trust, and the two chief -Covent Carden companies, opera and ballet, were solidly settled in their -new home.</p> - -<p>The Trust continues to receive a grant from the Arts Council (£145,000 -[$406,000] in 1949-1950), and it pays the rent for the Opera House and -the salaries and expenses of the companies. So far as the ballet company -is concerned, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet pretty well pays its own way, -except for that all-besetting expense in ballet, the cost of new -productions. The opera company requires relatively more support from the -Trust grant, as it has re-staged and produced every opera afresh, not -using any old productions. Moreover, the attendance for ballet is -greater than that for opera.</p> - -<p>The aim of Covent Garden and its Administrator, David Webster, is to -create a steady audience, and to appeal to groups that have not hitherto -attended ballet and opera, or have attended only when the most brilliant -stars were appearing. Seats sell for as little as 2s 6d (35¢), rising to -26s 3d ($3.67) and the ballet-and-opera-going habit has grown noticeably -in recent years. It is interesting to note the audience for opera -averaged eighty-three per cent capacity, and for the ballet ninety-two -per cent.</p> - -<p>The two British companies alternately presenting ballet and opera -provide most of the entertainment at Covent Garden, but<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_225">{225}</a></span> foreign -companies such as the Vienna State Opera with the Vienna Philharmonic -Orchestra, La Scala Opera, the Paris Opéra Comique, the Ballet Theatre -from New York, the New York City Ballet Company, the Grand Ballet of the -Marquis de Cuevas, and Colonel de Basil’s Original Ballets Russes have -had short seasons there.</p> - -<p>The Arts Council is in association with the two permanent companies -coincidentally operating at Sadler’s Wells—the Sadler’s Wells Theatre -Ballet and the Sadler’s Wells Opera Company. Other opera and ballet -companies associated with the Arts Council are the English Opera Group, -Ltd., and the Ballet Rambert, while the Arts Council manages the St. -James Ballet Company.</p> - -<p>All these companies tour in Britain, and some of them make extended -tours abroad. The Ballet Rambert, for instance, has made a tour of -Australia and New Zealand, which lasted a year and a half, a record for -that area.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells Ballet has made long and highly successful tours of -the European continent. Its first visit to America occurred in the -autumn of 1949, when the Covent Garden Opera Trust, in association with -the Arts Council and the British Council, presented the group at the -Metropolitan Opera House in New York City, and in various other centres -in the United States and Canada, under my management. A second and much -longer visit took place in 1950-1951, with which visits this chapter is -primarily concerned.</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells has a ballet school of something more than two hundred -students, including the general education of boys and girls from ten to -sixteen. Scholarships are increasing in number; some of these are -offered by various County Councils and other local authorities, and a -number by the Royal Academy of Dancing.</p> - -<p>In addition to the Arts Council, I have mentioned the British Council, -and no account of Britain’s cultural activities could make any -pretensions to being intelligible without something more than a mention -of it. It should be pointed out that the major part of the British -Council’s work is done abroad.</p> - -<p>Established in 1934, the British Council is Britain’s chief agent for -strengthening cultural relations with the rest of the British -Commonwealth, Europe, the Middle East, the Far East, the United States, -and Latin America. It is responsible for helping to make British -cultural achievements known and understood abroad, and for bringing to -the British, in turn, a closer knowledge of foreign countries.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_226">{226}</a></span></p> - -<p>Like many other British cultural bodies, the British Council derives its -main financial support from the Government (through grants from the -Foreign Office, plus certain sums on the Colonial and Commonwealth -votes), and is a body corporate, not a Government organization. Its -staff are not civil servants and its work is entirely divorced from -politics, though the Council has a certain amount of State control -because nine of the Executive Committee (fifteen to thirty in number) -are nominated by Government departments.</p> - -<p>The British Council’s chief activities concern educational exchanges -with foreign countries of students, teachers, and technicians, including -arranging facilities for these visitors in Britain; they include -supporting libraries and information services abroad where British books -and other reading materials are readily available, and further include -the financing of tours of British lecturers and exhibitions, and of -theatrical, musical, and ballet troupes abroad. Sadler’s Wells Ballet -has toured to Brussels, Prague, Warsaw, Poznau, Malmö, Oslo, Lisbon, -Berlin, and the United States and Canada under British Council auspices -with great success. The Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet has toured the -United States and Canada, under my management, with equal success, and -is soon to visit Africa, including Kenya Colony. The Old Vic Company, -the Boyd Neel String Orchestra, and the Ballet Rambert toured Australia -and New Zealand, and the Old Vic has toured Canada. John Gielgud’s -theatre company has visited Canada. In addition, the British Council has -sponsored visits abroad of such distinguished musicians as Sir Adrian -Boult, Sir John Barbirolli, Sir Malcolm Sargent, and Maggie Teyte.</p> - -<p>One of the British Council’s important trusts is the responsibility for -the special gramophone recordings of distinguished musical works and of -the spoken word. This promotion is adding notably to record libraries, -and is helping to make the best music available to listeners all over -the world. It is also the Government’s principal agent for carrying out -the cultural conventions agreed upon with other members of the United -Nations. These provide, in general, for encouraging mutual knowledge and -appreciation of each other’s culture through interchanging teachers, -offering student scholarships, and exchanging books, films, lectures, -concerts, plays, exhibitions, and musical scores.</p> - -<p>The relationship between the British Council and the Arts Council is -necessarily one of careful collaboration. In the time of C. E. M. A. -many tasks were accomplished in common, such as look<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_227">{227}</a></span>ing after foreign -residents in Great Britain. Now the division of labor of the two -Councils is well defined, with clear-cut agreement on their respective -responsibilities for the various entertainment groups that come to or go -from Britain. The British Council helps British artists and works of art -to go ahead; the Arts Council assists artistic activities in Britain, -including any that may come from abroad. Both bodies have a number of -committee members in common, and the feeling between the groups is close -and friendly.</p> - -<p>It is, I feel, characteristic of the British that, without a definite, -planned, long-term programme for expanding its patronage of the arts, -the British Government has nevertheless come to give financial aid to -almost every branch of the art world. This has developed over a period -of years, with accumulated speed in the last twelve because of the war, -because the days of wide patronage from large private incomes are -disappearing if not altogether disappeared, and also perhaps because of -an increasing general realization of the people’s greater need for -leisure-time occupation.</p> - -<p>In all of this I must point out quite emphatically that it is the -British Government’s policy to encourage and support existing and -valuable institutions. Thus the great symphony orchestras, Sadler’s -Wells Ballet, Covent Garden Opera, and various theatre companies are not -run by the Government, but given grants by the Arts Council, a -corporation supported by Government money.</p> - -<p>What is more, there is no one central body in Britain in charge of the -fine arts, but a number of organizations, with the Arts Council covering -the widest territory. Government patronage of the arts in Britain, as -has frequently been true of other British institutions, has grown with -the needs of the times, and the organization of the operating bodies has -been flexible and adaptable.</p> - -<p>The bodies that receive Government money, such as the Arts Council, the -British Broadcasting Corporation, and the British Council are relatively -independent of the Government, their employees not being civil servants -and their day-to-day business being conducted autonomously.</p> - -<p>There is no attempt on the part of the Government to interfere with the -presentations of the companies receiving State aid, though often the -Government encourages experimentation. A very happy combination of arts -sponsorship is now permissible under a comparatively recent Act of -Parliament that allows local government authorities to assist theatrical -and musical groups fully. Now, for instance,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_228">{228}</a></span> an orchestra based -anywhere in Britain may have the financial backing of the town -authorities, as well as of the Arts Council and private patrons.</p> - -<p>While accurate predictions about the future course of relations between -Government and the arts in Britain are not, of course, possible, it -seems likely, however, that all of mankind will be found with more, -rather than less, leisure in the years to come. In the days of the -industrial revolution in Britain a hundred-odd years ago, the people, by -which I mean the working classes, had little opportunity for cultivating -a taste for the arts.</p> - -<p>Now, with the average number of hours worked by British men, thanks to -trade unionism and a more genuinely progressive and humanitarian point -of view, standing at something under forty-seven weekly, there is -obviously less time devoted to earning a living, leaving more for -learning the art of living. It may well be that the next hundred years -will see even more intensive efforts made to help people to use their -leisure hours pleasantly and profitably. As long ago as the early -1930’s, at a time when he was so instrumental in encouraging ballet -through the founding of the Camargo Society, Lord (then J. Maynard) -Keynes wrote that he hoped and believed the day would come when the -problem of earning one’s daily bread might not be the most important one -of our lives, and that “the arena of the heart and head will be -occupied, or reoccupied, by our real problems—the problems of life and -of human relations, of creation and behavior and religion.” Then, “for -the first time since his creation,” Lord Keynes continued, “man will be -faced with his real, his permanent problem—how to use his freedom from -pressing economic cares, how to occupy the leisure science and compound -interest will have won for him to live wisely and agreeably and well.”</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>Stripped to the simplest explanation possible, Sadler’s Wells leased its -company to Covent Garden for a period of years. The move must have -entailed a prodigious amount of work for all concerned and for Ninette -de Valois in particular. Quite apart from all the physical detail -involved: new scenery, new musical material, new costumes, more dancers, -there was, most importantly, a change of point of view, even of -direction. With a large theatre and orchestra, and large -responsibilities, experimental works for the moment had to be postponed. -New thinking had to be employed, because the company’s direction was now -in the terms of the Maryinsky Theatre, the Bolshoi, the Paris Opéra.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_229">{229}</a></span></p> - -<p>The keystone of the arch that is Sadler’s Wells’s policy is the -full-length productions of classical ballets. The prime example is <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, my own reactions to which, when I first saw it, I have -already recounted. In the production of this work, the company was -preeminent, with Margot Fonteyn as a bright, particular star; but the -“star” system, if one cares to call it that, was utilized to the full, -since each night there was a change of cast; and it must be remembered -that in London it is possible to present a full-length work every night -for a month or more without changing the bill, whereas in this country, -almost daily changes are required. This, it should be pointed out, -required a good deal of audience training.</p> - -<p>The magnificent production of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> cost more than -£10,000, at British costs. What the costs for such a production as that -would have been on this side of the Atlantic I dislike to contemplate. -The point is that it was a complete financial success. Another point I -should like to make is that while <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> was presented -nightly, week after week, there was no slighting of the other classical -works such as the full-length <i>Swan Lake</i>, <i>Coppélia</i>, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, -and <i>Giselle</i>; nor was there any diminution of new works or revivals of -works from their own repertoire.</p> - -<p>It was in 1948 I returned to London further to pursue the matter of -their invasion of America. It was my very dear friend, the late Ralph -Hawkes of the music publishing firm of Boosey and Hawkes, the -leaseholders of Covent Garden, who helped materially in arranging -matters and in persuading the Sadler’s Wells direction and the British -Arts Council that they were ready for America and that, since Hawkes was -closely identified with America’s musical life, that this country was -ready for them.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Ninette de Valois grew increasingly dubious about -full-length, full-evening ballets, such as <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> and -<i>Swan Lake</i>, in the States, and was convinced in her own mind that the -United States and Canadian audiences not only would not accept them, -much less sit still before a single work lasting three and one-half -hours. Much, of course, was at stake for all concerned and it was, -indeed, a serious problem about which to make a final, inevitable -decision.</p> - -<p>The conferences were long and many. Conferences are a natural -concomitant of ballet. But there was a vast difference between these -conferences and the hundreds I had had with the Russians, the -Caucasians, the Bulgarians, and the Axminsters. Here were neither -intrigues nor whims, neither suspicion nor stupidity. On the contrary,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_230">{230}</a></span> -here was reasonableness, logic, frankness, fundamental British honesty. -George Borodin, a Russian-born Englishman and a great ballet-lover, once -pointed out that ballet is a medium that transcends words, adding “the -tongue is a virtuoso that can make an almost inexhaustible series of -noises of all kinds.” In my countless earlier conferences with other -ballet directorates, really few of those noises, alas, really meant -anything.</p> - -<p>At last, the affirmative decision was made and we arrived at an -agreement on the repertoire for the American season, to include the -full-length works, along with a representative cross-section, -historically speaking, of the Sadler’s Wells repertoire of their shorter -works. The matter settled, I left for home.</p> - -<p>On my return to New York, still other problems awaited me. The -Metropolitan Opera House, the only possible New York stage on which -Sadler’s Wells could appear, was faced with difficulties and -perplexities, with other commitments for the period when the British -visitors would be here.</p> - -<p>However, thanks to the invaluable cooperation and assistance of Edward -Johnson, Alfred P. Sloan, and Mrs. August Belmont, it was decided that a -part of the season should be given to Sadler’s Wells. Had it not been -for their friendly, intelligent, and influential offices, New York might -not have had the pleasure and privilege of the Sadler’s Wells visit.</p> - -<p>The road at last having been cleared, our promotional campaign was -started and was limited to four weeks. The response is a matter of -theatrical history.</p> - -<p>Here, for the first time in the United States, was a company carrying on -the great tradition in classical ballet, with timely and contemporary -additions. Here was a company with a broad repertoire based on and -imbedded in the full-length classics, but also bolstered with modern -works that strike deep into human experience. Here were choreographers -who strove to broaden the scope of their art and to bring into their -works some of the richness of modern psychology and drama, always -balletic in idiom, with freedom of style, who permitted their dramatic -imaginations to guide them in creating movement and in the use of music.</p> - -<p>By boat came the splendid productions, the costumes, the properties, -loads and loads of them. By special chartered planes came the company, -and the technical staff, the entire contingent headed by the famous -directorial trio, Ninette de Valois, Frederick Ashton, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_231">{231}</a></span> Constant -Lambert, with the executive side in the capable hands of David Webster, -General Administrator. The technical department was magnificently -presided over by Herbert Hughes, General Manager of the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet, and the late Louis Yudkin, General Stage Director.</p> - -<p>It was an American <i>ballerina</i>, Nora Kaye, who hustled Margot Fonteyn -from the airport to let her have her first peek at the Metropolitan -Opera House. The curtain was up when they arrived, revealing the old -gold and red auditorium. Margot’s perceptive eyes took it all in at a -glance. She took a deep breath, clasped her hands in front of her. -“Thank goodness,” she said, “it’s old and comfortable and warm and rich, -as an opera house should be.” She paused for a reflective moment and -added, “I was so afraid it would be slick and modern like everything -else here, all steel and chromium, and spit and polish. I’m glad it’s -old!”.</p> - -<p>On an afternoon before the opening, my very good friend, Hans Juda, -publisher of Britain’s international textile journal, <i>Ambassador</i>, -together with his charming wife, gave a large and delightful cocktail -party at Sherry’s in the Metropolitan Opera House for a large list of -invited guests from the worlds of art, business, and diplomacy. Hans -Juda is a very helpful and influential figure in the world of British -textiles and wearing apparel. It was he, together with the amiable James -Cleveland Belle of the famous Bond Street house of Horrocks, who -arranged with British designers, dressmakers, textile manufacturers, and -tailors to see that each member of the Sadler’s Wells company was -outfitted with complete wardrobes for both day and evening wear; the -distaff side with hats, suits, frocks, shoes, and accessories; the male -side with lounge suits, dinner jackets, shoes, gloves, etc. The men were -also furnished with, shall I say, necessaries for the well-dressed man, -which were soon packed away, viz., bowler hats (“derbies” to the -American native) and “brollies” (umbrellas to Broadway).</p> - -<p>The next night was, in more senses than one, the <i>BIG</i> night: a -completely fabulous <i>première</i>. The Metropolitan was sold out weeks in -advance, with standees up to, and who knows, perhaps beyond, the normal -capacity. Hundreds of ballet lovers had stood in queue for hours to -obtain a place in the coveted sardine space, reaching in double line -completely round the square block the historic old house occupies on -Broadway, Seventh Avenue, Thirty-ninth and Fortieth Streets. The -orchestra stalls and boxes were filled with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_232">{232}</a></span> great in all walks of -life. The central boxes of the “Golden Horseshoe,” draped in the Stars -and Stripes and the Union Jack, housed the leading figures of the -diplomatic and municipal worlds.</p> - -<p>Although the date was 9 October, it was the hottest night of the summer, -as luck would have it. The Metropolitan Opera House is denied the -benefit of modern air-conditioning; the temperature within its hallowed -walls, thanks to the mass of humanity and the lights, was many degrees -above that of the humid blanket outside.</p> - -<p>Despite all this, so long as I shall live, I shall never forget the -stirring round of applause that greeted that distinguished figure, -Constant Lambert, as he entered the orchestra pit to lead the orchestra -in the two anthems, the Star Spangled Banner and God Save the King. The -audience resumed their seats; there was a bated pause, and then from the -pit came the first notes of the overture to <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, under -the sympathetic baton of that finest of ballet conductors. So long as I -shall live I shall never forget the deafening applause as the curtains -opened on the first of Oliver Messel’s sets and costumes. That applause, -which was repeated and repeated—for Fonteyn’s entrance, increasing in -its roar until, at the end, Dame Ninette had to make a little speech, -against her will—still rings in my ears.</p> - -<p>I have had the privilege of handling the world’s greatest artists and -most distinguished attractions; my career has been punctuated with -stirring opening performances of my own, and I have been at others quite -as memorable. However, so far as the quality of the demonstrations and -the manifestations of enthusiasm are concerned, the <i>première</i> of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet at the Metropolitan Opera House, on 9 October, -1949, was the most outstanding of my entire experience.</p> - -<p>Dame Ninette de Valois, outwardly as calm as ever, but, I suspect, -inwardly a mass of conflicting emotions, was seated in the box with -Mayor O’Dwyer. As the curtains closed on the first act of <i>The Sleeping -Beauty</i>, and the tremendous roar of cheers and applause rose from the -packed house, the Mayor laid his hand on “Madame’s” arm and said, “Lady, -you’re <i>in</i>!”</p> - -<p>Crisply and a shade perplexed, “Madame” replied:</p> - -<p>“In?... Really?”</p> - -<p>Genuinely puzzled now, she tried unsuccessfully to translate to herself -what this could mean. “Strange language,” she thought, “I’m <i>in</i>?... In -what?... What on earth does that mean?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_233">{233}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>We met in the interval. I grasped her hand in sincere congratulation. -She patted me absently as she smiled. Then she turned and spoke.</p> - -<p>“Look here,” she said, “could you translate for me, please, something -His Lordship just said to me as the curtain fell? Put it into English, I -mean?”</p> - -<p>It was my turn to be puzzled. “Madame” was, I thought, seated with Mayor -O’Dwyer. Had she wandered about, moved to another box?</p> - -<p>“His Lordship?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, of course. Your Lord Mayor, with whom I am sitting.”</p> - -<p>I hadn’t thought of O’Dwyer in terms of a peer.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes,” she continued, “as the applause, that very surprising -applause rang out at the end, the Lord Mayor turned to me and said, -‘Lady, you’re <i>in</i>!’ Just like that. Now will you please translate for -me what it is? Tell me, is that good or bad?”</p> - -<p>Laughingly I replied, “What do you think?”</p> - -<p>“I really don’t know” was her serious and sincere response.</p> - -<p>The simple fact was that Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E., D. Litt., to -whose untiring efforts Sadler’s Wells owes its success, its existence, -its very being, honestly thought the company was failing in New York.</p> - -<p>This most gala of gala nights was crowned by a large and extremely gay -supper party given by Mayor O’Dwyer, at Gracie Mansion, the official -residence of the Mayor of the City of New York. It was a warm and balmy -night, with an Indian Summer moon—one of those halcyon nights all too -rare. Because of this, it was possible to stage the supper in that most -idyllic of settings, on the spacious lawn overlooking the moon-drenched -East River, with the silhouettes of the great bridges etched in silver -lights against the glow from the hundreds of colored lights strung over -the lawn. Beneath all this gleamed the white linen of the many tables, -the sparkle of crystal, the gloss of the silver.</p> - -<p>Two orchestras provided continuous dance music, the food and the -champagne were ineffable. It was a party given by the Mayor: to honor -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet and to cement those cultural ties between the -two great world centers, London and New York. What better means are -there for mutual understanding and admiration?</p> - -<p>There was, however, a delay on the part of the company in leaving the -Metropolitan Opera House, a quite extended delay. Three<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_234">{234}</a></span> large buses -waited at the stage door, manned by Police Department Inspectors in -dress uniforms, with gold badges. But this was the first time the -company had worn the new evening creations I have mentioned. It took -longer to array themselves in these than it did for them to prepare for -the performance. As a matter of fact, Margot Fonteyn and Moira Shearer -were the last to be ready, each of them ravishing and stunning, the -dark, flashing brunette beauty of Fonteyn in striking contrast to the -soft, pinkish loveliness of Shearer.</p> - -<p>Then it was necessary for our staff and the police to form a flying -wedge to clear a path from the stage door to the waiting buses through -the tightly-packed crowd that waited in Fortieth Street for a glimpse of -the triumphant stars.</p> - -<p>Safe aboard at last, off the cavalcade started, headed by a Police -Department squad car, with siren tied down, red lights flashing, -together with two motorcycle police officers fifteen feet in advance and -the same complement, squad car and outriders, bringing up the rear of -the procession, through the red traffic lights, thus providing the -company with yet another American thrill.</p> - -<p>There was a tense instant as the procession left the Metropolitan and -the police sirens commenced their wail. The last time the company had -heard a siren was in the days of the blitz in London, when, no matter -how inured one became, the siren’s first tintinnabulation brought on -that sudden shock that no familiarity can entirely eradicate. It was -Constant Lambert’s dry wit that eased the situation. “It’s all right, -girls,” he called out, “that’s the ‘all clear.’<span class="lftspc">”</span>.</p> - -<p>Heading the receiving line at Gracie Mansion, as the company descended -the wide stairs into the festive garden, were the Mayor and Grover -Whalen, Sir Oliver and Lady Franks, Sir Alexander Cadogan, the Honorable -Trygve Lie, President Romulo. There was a twinkle in Mayor O’Dwyer’s -eye, as some of the <i>corps de ballet</i> girls curtsied with a -“Good-evening, your Lordship.”</p> - -<p>Toasts were drunk to the President of the United States, the King of -England, Dame Ninette de Valois, to the Mayor, to Margot Fonteyn, Moira -Shearer, and the other principals. The party waxed even gayer. Dancers -seem never to tire of dancing. It was three in the morning when the -Mayor made a short speech to say “good-night,” explaining that he was -under doctor’s orders to go to bed, but that the party was to continue -unabated, and all were to enjoy themselves.</p> - -<p>It was past four o’clock when it finally broke up, and the buses,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_235">{235}</a></span> with -their police escorts, started the journey back through a sleeping -Manhattan to deposit the company at their various hotels. Constant -Lambert, the lone wolf, lived apart from the rest at an East Side hotel. -All the rest of the company had been dropped, when three buses, six -inspectors, two squad cars, four motorcycle officers, halted before the -sedate hostelry after five in the morning, and Constant Lambert, the -sole passenger in the imposing cavalcade, slowly and with a grave, -seventeenth-century dignity, solemnly shook hands with drivers, motor -police, and all the inspectors, thanked them for the extremely -interesting, and, as he put it, “highly informative” journey, saluted -them with his sturdy blackthorn stick, and disappeared within the chaste -portals of the hotel, while the police stood at salute, and two -bewildered milk-men looked on in wonder.</p> - -<p>The New York season was limited only by the availability of the -Metropolitan Opera House. We could have played for months. Also, the -company was due back at Covent Garden to fulfil its obligations to the -British taxpayer. Following the Metropolitan engagement, there was a -brief tour, involving a special train of six baggage cars, diner, and -seven Pullmans, visiting, with equal success and greeted by capacity and -turn-away houses, Washington, Richmond, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, -Chicago, and Michigan State College at East Lansing; thence across the -border into Canada, for engagements at Toronto, Ottawa, and Montreal, to -honor the Commonwealth.</p> - -<p>Before David Webster returned to London, we discussed the matter of an -early return for a longer stay. I pointed out that, with such an evident -success, Sadler’s Wells could not afford to delay its return for still -further and greater triumphs. Now, I emphasized, was the time to take -advantage of the momentum of success; now, if ever, was the time, since -the promotion, the publicity, the press notices, all were cumulative in -effect.</p> - -<p>Webster, I knew, was impressed. I waited for his answer. But he shook -his head slowly.</p> - -<p>“Sol,” he said, “it’s doubtful. Frankly, I do not think it is possible.”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, I discussed the entire matter of the return with leading -members of the company. All were of a single opinion, all of one mind. -They were anxious and eager to return.</p> - -<p>Such are the workings of the Sadler’s Wells organization, however, that -it was necessary to delay a decision as to a return visit until at least -the 3rd or 4th of January, 1950, in order that the mat<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_236">{236}</a></span>ter could be -properly put before the British Arts Council and the British Council for -their final approval.</p> - -<p>It should not be difficult for the reader to understand the anxiety and -eagerness with which I anticipated that date.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>It seems to me that during this period of suspense it might be well for -me to sum up my impression of the repertoire that made up the initial -season.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells Ballet repertoire for the first American season -consisted of the following works: <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>; <i>Le Lac des -Cygnes</i> (<i>Swan Lake</i>) in full; <i>Cinderella</i>, in three acts; <i>Job</i>; -<i>Façade</i>; <i>Apparitions</i>; <i>The Rake’s Progress</i>; <i>Miracle in the -Gorbals</i>; <i>Hamlet</i>; <i>Symphonic Variations</i>; <i>A Wedding Bouquet</i>; and -<i>Checkmate</i>. The order is neither alphabetical nor necessarily in the -order of importance. Actually, irrespective of varying degrees of -success on this side of the Atlantic, they are all important, for they -represent, in a sense, a cross-section of the repertoire history of the -company.</p> - -<p><i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, in its Sadler’s Wells form, is a ballet in a -Prologue and three acts. The story is a collaboration by Marius Petipa -and I. A. Vsevolojsky, (the Director of the Russian Imperial Theatres at -the time of its creation), after the Charles Perrault fairy tale. The -music, of course, is Tchaikowsky’s immortal score. The scenery and -costumes are by Oliver Messel. The original Petipa choreography was -reproduced by Nicholas Serguëeff.</p> - -<p>It was the work which so brilliantly inaugurated the company’s -occupation of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, on 20th February, -1946. Sadler’s Wells had previously revived the work in 1939, on a -smaller scale, under the title <i>The Sleeping Princess</i>.</p> - -<p>My unforgettable memories of the present production are topped by the -inspired interpretation of the title role by Margot Fonteyn, who -alternated moods of subtlety and childlike simplicity with brilliant -fireworks, always within the ballet’s frame. There is the shining memory -of Beryl Grey’s magnificent Lilac Fairy, the memory of the alternating -casts, one headed by Moira Shearer, entirely different in its way. There -is, as a matter of fact, little difference between the casts. Always -there were such ensemble performances as the States had never before -seen. Over all shone the magnificence of Oliver Messel’s scenery and -costumes.</p> - -<p>The full-length <i>Swan Lake</i> (<i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i>), actually in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_237">{237}</a></span> four -acts, was a revelation to audiences for years accustomed to the -truncated second act version. Its libretto, or book, is a Russian -compilation by Begitschev and Geltser. It was first presented by -Sadler’s Wells in the present settings and costumes by Leslie Hurry, -with the original choreography by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, -reproduced by Nicholas Serguëeff, on 7th September, 1943.</p> - -<p>This production replaced an earlier one, first done at the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, on 20th November, 1934, with Alicia Markova as the Swan -Queen, and the scenery and costumes by Hugh Stevenson.</p> - -<p>On the 13th April, 1947, it came to Covent Garden, with an increased -<i>corps de ballet</i>, utilizing the entire Covent Garden stage, as it does -at the Metropolitan Opera House.</p> - -<p>As always, Margot Fonteyn is brilliant in the dual role of Odette-Odile. -In all my wide experience of Swan Queens, Fonteyn today is unequaled. -With the Sadler’s Wells company, there is no dearth of first-rate Swan -Queens: Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer, Beryl Grey, Violetta Elvin. -Altogether, in case the reader has not already suspected it, <i>Swan Lake</i> -is, I think, my favorite ballet. It is not only a classical ballet; it -is a classic. The haunting Tchaikowsky score, its sheer romanticism, its -dramatic impact, all these things individually and together, give it its -pride of place with the public of America as well as with myself. Here -my vote is with the majority.</p> - -<p>The third full-length work, so splendid in its settings and so bulky -that its performances had to be limited by its physical proportions only -to the largest stages, was <i>Cinderella</i>, which took up every inch on the -great stage of the Metropolitan Opera House. <i>Cinderella</i> was the first -full evening ballet in the modern repertoire of Sadler’s Wells. A -three-act work, with choreography by Frederick Ashton, to the score by -Serge Prokofieff, its scenery and costumes are by the French painter, -Jean-Denis Malclès.</p> - -<p>Here was an instance where the chief choreographer of Sadler’s Wells, -Frederick Ashton, had the courage to tackle a full-length fairy story, -the veritable stuff from which true ballets are made in the grand -tradition of classical ballet: a formidable task. The measure of his -success is that he managed to do it by telling a beautiful and -thrice-familiar fairy tale in a direct and straightforward manner, never -dragging in spectacle for the sake of spectacle. Moreover, he was -eminently successful in avoiding, on the one hand, those sterilities of -classicism that lead only to boredom, and the grotesqueries of -modernism, on the other.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_238">{238}</a></span></p> - -<p>For music, Ashton took the score Prokofieff composed for the Soviet -ballet of the same name, but created an entirely new work to the music. -The settings and costumes by Malclès could not have been more right, -filled as they are with the glamor of the fairy tale spirit and utterly -free from any trace of vulgarity.</p> - -<p>I shall always remember the Ugly Sisters of Ashton and Robert Helpmann, -in the best tradition of English pantomime. Moreover, the production was -blessed with three alternating Cinderellas, each individual in approach -and interpretation: Fonteyn, Shearer, and Elvin.</p> - -<p><i>Job</i>, the reader will remember, is not called a ballet but “A Masque -for Dancing.” The adaptation of the Biblical legend in the spirit of the -William Blake drawings is the work of a distinguished British surgeon -and Blake authority, Geoffrey Keynes. It was the first important -choreographic work of Ninette de Valois. Its scenery and costumes were -the product of John Piper; its music is one of the really great scores -of that dean of living British composers, Ralph Vaughan Williams.</p> - -<p>In the music, completely modern in idiom, Vaughan Williams has followed -the overall pattern of the sixteenth and seventeenth century “Masques,” -using period rhythms (but not melodies) such as the <i>Pavane</i>, the -<i>Minuet</i>, the <i>Saraband</i>, and the <i>Gaillard</i>.</p> - -<p>The production itself is on two levels, in which all the earthly, -material characters remain on the stage level, while the spiritual -characters are on a higher level, the two levels being joined by a large -flight of steps.</p> - -<p>One character stands out in domination of the work. That is Satan, -created by Anton Dolin, and danced here by Robert Helpmann. The climax -of <i>Job</i> occurs when Satan is hurled down from heaven. The whole thing -is a work of deep and moving beauty—a serious, thoughtful work that -ranks as one of Ninette de Valois’ masterpieces.</p> - -<p><i>Façade</i> represented the opposite extreme in the Sadler’s Wells -repertoire. There was considerable doubt on the part of the company’s -directorate that it would be acceptable on this side of the Atlantic, -because of its essential British humor; it was also feared that it might -be dated. As matters turned out, it was one of the most substantial -successes among the shorter works.</p> - -<p><i>Façade</i> was originally staged by Ashton for the Camargo Society in -1931, came to the Sadler’s Wells Ballet in 1935, was lost in the German -invasion of Holland, and was restored in the present settings<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_239">{239}</a></span> and -costumes of John Armstrong in 1940. It is, of course, freely adapted -from the Edith Sitwell poems, with the popular score by Sir William -Walton.</p> - -<p>Fresh, witty, and humorous throughout, there is no suggestion of either -provincialism or of being dated. Its highlights for me were the Tango, -superbly danced by Frederick Ashton and Moira Shearer, who alternated -with Pamela May, and the Yodelling Song with its bucolic milkmaid.</p> - -<p><i>Apparitions</i> perhaps bore too close a resemblance in plot to Massine’s -treatment of the Berlioz <i>Symphonie Fantastique</i>, although the former is -a much earlier work, having been staged by Ashton in 1933. Its story is -by Constant Lambert; its music, a Lambert selection of the later music -of Franz Liszt, re-orchestrated by Gordon Jacob. Cecil Beaton designed -the extremely effective scenery and costumes. It was taken into the -Sadler’s Wells repertoire in 1936.</p> - -<p>It provided immensely effective roles for Margot Fonteyn and Robert -Helpmann.</p> - -<p>Strikingly successful was Ninette de Valois’ <i>The Rake’s Progress</i>. This -is a six-scene work, based on William Hogarth’s famous series of -paintings of the same name. Its story, like its music, is by Gavin -Gordon. Its setting, a permanent closed box, subject to minor changes -during the action, scene to scene, with an act-drop of a London street, -is by the late Rex Whistler, as are the costumes, Hogarthian in style.</p> - -<p>It is a highly dramatic work, in reality a sort of morality play, -perhaps, more than it is a ballet in the accepted sense of the term, but -a tremendously important work in the evolution of the repertoire that is -so peculiarly Sadler’s Wells.</p> - -<p><i>Miracle in the Gorbals</i> is another of the theatre pieces in the -repertoire. The choreographic work of Robert Helpmann, it is based on a -story by Michael Benthall, to a specially commissioned score by Sir -Arthur Bliss. Its setting and costumes are by the British artist, Edward -Burra. It was a wartime addition to the repertoire in the fall of 1944.</p> - -<p>Like <i>The Rake’s Progress</i>, <i>Miracle in the Gorbals</i> is also a sort of -morality play, with strong overtones of a sociological tract. Bearing -plot and theme resemblances to Jerome K. Jerome’s <i>The Passing of the -Third Floor Back</i>, it puts the question: “What sort of treatment would -God receive if he returned to earth and visited the slums of a twentieth -century city?”</p> - -<p>A realistic work, it deals with low-life in a strictly <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_240">{240}</a></span>down-to-earth -manner. As a spectacle of crowded tenement life, it mingles such -theatrical elements as the raising of the dead, murder, suicide, -prostitution. The Bliss music splendidly underlines the action.</p> - -<p>With all of its drama and melodrama, it was not, nevertheless, one of my -favorite works.</p> - -<p>The other Helpmann creation was <i>Hamlet</i>, staged by him two years before -<i>Miracle in the Gorbals</i>, in 1942. Utilizing the Tchaikowsky -fantasy-overture, its tremendously effective scenery and costumes are by -Leslie Hurry.</p> - -<p><i>Hamlet</i> was not an attempt to tell the Shakespeare story in ballet -form. Rather is it a work that attempts to portray the dying thoughts of -Hamlet as his life passes before him in review. Drama rather than dance, -it is a spectacle, linked from picture to picture by dances, a work in -which mime plays an important part.</p> - -<p><i>Symphonic Variations</i>, set to César Franck’s work for piano and -orchestra of the same title, was Ashton’s first purely dance work in -abstract form.</p> - -<p>A work without plot, it employed only six dancers, three couples, on an -immense stage in an immensely effective setting of great simplicity by -Sophie Fedorovich. The six dancers were: Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer, -and Pamela May; Michael Somes, Henry Danton, and Brian Shaw. There is no -virtuoso role. It is a lyric work, calm, ordered, in which the classical -spirit is exalted in a mood of all for one, one for all.</p> - -<p><i>A Wedding Bouquet</i> is certainly the most genuinely witty work in all -modern ballet repertoire. The work of that genuine wit and gentleman of -impeccable taste in music, literature, and painting, the late Lord -Berners, it was staged by Ashton in 1937. Utilizing a text by Gertrude -Stein, spoken by a narrator seated at a table at the side of the stage, -its music, its scenery, its costumes, all are by Lord Berners. At the -Metropolitan Opera House, the narrator was the inimitable Constant -Lambert. In later performances, the role was taken over by Robert -Irving, the chief conductor.</p> - -<p>The work, a collaboration between Ashton, Berners, and Gertrude Stein, -is the most completely sophisticated ballet I know. The amazing thing -about it to me is that with its utterly integrated Stein text, it goes -as well in large theatres as it does in the smaller ones. The text is as -important as the dancing or the music.</p> - -<p>For me, aside from the hilarity of the work itself, was the pleasure I -derived from the performance of Moira Shearer as the thwarted<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_241">{241}</a></span> spinster -who loved her dog, and June Brae, who danced the role of Josephine, who -was certainly not fitted to go to a wedding, as Gertrude Stein averred. -As the Bridegroom, Robert Helpmann provided a comic masterpiece.</p> - -<p><i>Checkmate</i> was the first British ballet to have its <i>première</i> outside -the country, having been first presented as a part of the Dance Festival -at the International Exposition in Paris, in the summer of 1937. Both -music and book are by Sir Arthur Bliss, with scenery and costumes by the -Anglo-American artist, E. McKnight Kauffer.</p> - -<p>The concerns of the ballet are with a game of chess, with the dancers -pawns in the game. It appeals to me strongly, and I feel it is one of -Ninette de Valois’ finest choreographic achievements. It is highly -dramatic, leading to a grim tragedy. Its music is tremendously fine and -McKnight Kauffer’s settings and costumes are striking, effective, and -revolutionary. This is a work of first importance in all ballet -repertoire.</p> - -<p>I embarked upon a continuing bombardment of Ninette de Valois and David -Webster by cables and long-distance telephone calls. I never for a -instant let the matter out of my mind.</p> - -<p>As I counted off the days until a decision was due, the old year ran -out. It was on New Year’s Eve, while working in my office, that I was -taken ill. I had not been feeling entirely myself for several days, but -illness is something so foreign to me that I laughed it off as something -presumably due to some irregularity of living.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, late in the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, I found myself -doubled up with pain. I was rushed to hospital. A hasty blood-count -revealed the necessity for an immediate appendectomy. Before the old -year was greeted by the new, I had submitted to surgery. The doctors -said it was just in time—a case of “touch and go.” A good many things -in my life have been that.</p> - -<p>A minimum of a week’s hospitalization was imperative, the doctors said, -and after that another fortnight of quiet recuperation. I remained in -hospital the required week.</p> - -<p>Very soon after, against the united wishes of Mrs. Hurok and my office, -I was on a plane bound for London.</p> - -<p>At the London airport I was met by David Webster, who took me as quickly -and as smoothly as possible to my old stamping-ground, the Savoy Hotel, -where, on Webster’s firm insistence, I spent the next twelve hours in -bed. There followed extended consultations with Ninette de Valois and -Webster; but neither was able to give<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_242">{242}</a></span> a definite answer on the -all-important matter of the second American tour.</p> - -<p>I pointed out to them that, in order to protect all concerned, bookings -were already being made across the United States and Canada: bookings -involving in many instances, definite guarantees. As I waited for a -decision, my office was daily badgering me. I was at a loss what to -reply to them. There were daily inconclusive trans-Atlantic telephone -conversations with my office and daily inconclusive conversations with -the Sadler’s Wells directorate.</p> - -<p>At last there came a glimmer. Webster announced that he believed a final -decision could be reached at or about 16th February. He required, he -said, that much further time in order to be able to figure out the -precise costs of the venture and to determine what, if anything, might -be left after the payment of all the terrific costs. In other words, he -had to determine and calculate the precise nature of the risk.... -Figures, figures, and still more figures.... Cables backwards and -forwards across the Atlantic, with my New York office checking and -rechecking on the capacities of the auditoriums, theatres, opera houses, -and halls in which the bookings had been made.</p> - -<p>The 16th February passed and still no decision was forthcoming. On 19th -February, all that could be elicited from Webster was: “I simply can’t -say at this juncture.” He added that he appreciated my position and -regretted the daily disappointments to which I was being subjected.</p> - -<p>There came the 22nd of February, in the United States the anniversary of -the birth of George Washington. This year in London, the 22nd of -February was the eve of the General Election. Most of the afternoon I -spent with Webster at his flat, going over papers. We dined together -and, as we parted, Webster’s only remark was: “See you at the -performance.”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the pressure on me from New York increased.</p> - -<p>“What <i>is</i> going to happen?” became the reiterated burden of the daily -messages from my office.</p> - -<p>Other matters in New York were requiring my attention, and it had become -necessary to inform Webster that it would be impossible for me to remain -any longer in London and that I was sailing in the <i>Queen Mary</i> on -Friday.</p> - -<p>Election Eve I went to the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, to watch -another Sadler’s Wells performance. In the main foyer I ran into -Webster.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_243">{243}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Can you guarantee us our expenses <i>and</i> a profit?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“I can.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a deal.”</p> - -<p>It was eight-thirty in the evening of the 22nd February that the verbal -deal was made. Five hours difference in time made it three-thirty in the -afternoon in New York. I hurried back to the Savoy and called Mae -Frohman.</p> - -<p>“What’s going to happen?”</p> - -<p>“It’s all set,” I replied.</p> - -<p>Back to Covent Garden I went. In the Crush Bar, Webster and I toasted -our deal with a bottle of champagne.</p> - -<p>During Election Day, Webster, “Madame,” and I worked on repertoire and -final details; but, for the most part, we gave our attention to the -early returns from the General Election. After the performance that -night at the Garden, David Webster and his friend James Cleveland Belle, -joined me at the Savoy and remained until four in the morning, with one -eye and one ear on the returns.</p> - -<p>The next day I sailed in the good <i>Queen Mary</i> and had a lovely -crossing, with my good friend, Greer Garson, on board to make the trip -even more pleasant.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hurok, my daughter Ruth, Mae Frohman, and my office staff met me at -the Cunard pier; and I told the whole story, in all its intricate -detail, to them.</p> - -<p>But there were still loose ends to be caught up, and April found me -again back in London. The night following my arrival, I gave a big party -at the Savoy, with Ninette de Valois, Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer and -David Webster as the guests of honor. We toasted the success of the -first American season; drank another to the success of the forthcoming -and much more extended tour.</p> - -<p>While in London, we clarified and agreed upon many details, including -the final repertoire for the second American venture—which was to -reach, not only from coast to coast, but to dip into the far south as -well as far to the north.</p> - -<p>Back in New York for a brief stay and then, in June, Mrs. Hurok and I -left for our annual sojourn in Europe. This time we went direct to -London, where we revelled in the performances at Covent Garden.</p> - -<p>I have always loved London and always have been a great admirer of -London, the place, and of those things for which it stands as a symbol. -I love suddenly coming upon the fascinating little squares, with their -stately old houses, as often as not adorned with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_244">{244}</a></span> a fifteenth-century -church. Although modernism sometimes almost encroaches, they still -retain an old-fashioned dreaminess.</p> - -<p>About all is the atmosphere of history, tradition, and the aura of a -genuinely free people. The Royal Opera House itself has a particular -fascination for me. So far as I am concerned, there is not the slightest -incongruity in the fact that its façade looks out on a police station -and police court and that it is almost otherwise surrounded by a garden -market. A patina of associations seems to cover the fabric, both inside -and out—whether it is the bare boards and iron rails of the high -old-fashioned gallery, or the gilt and red plush and cream-painted -woodwork, the thin pillars of the boxes, the rather awkward staircases, -the “Crush” bar and the other bars, the red curtain bearing the coat of -arms of the reigning Monarch. Then, lights down, the great curtain -sweeps up, and once again, for the hundredth time, the tense magic holds -everyone in thrall.</p> - -<p>I love the true ballet lovers who are not to be found in the boxes alone -or in the stalls exclusively. Many of them sit in the lower-priced seats -in the upper circle, the amphitheatre, and in the gallery. The night -before an opening or an important revival or cast change, a long queue, -equipped with camp-chairs and sandwiches, waits patiently to be admitted -to the gallery seats the following evening.</p> - -<p>There is one figure I miss now at Covent Carden, one that seemed to me -to be a part of its very fabric. For years, going back stage to see Anna -Pavlova, Chaliapine, others of my artists, and in the days of the de -Basil Ballet, it was he who always had a cheery greeting. In 1948, Tom -Jackson closed his eyes in the sleep everlasting, to open them, one -hopes, at some Great Stage Door. He was the legendary stage door-keeper, -was Tom Jackson, and certainly one of the most important persons in -Covent Garden. He was a gentleman in the best sense of the word. Many -were the celebrated artists he saw come and go during his long regime. -Everybody spoke to him in their own tongue, although Jackson invariably -replied in English. He was, I remember, in charge of the artists’ mail, -and knew everyone, and remembered every name and every face. Jackson was -not only interested in his stage door, but took deep interest in the -artistic aspect of Covent Garden. Immediately after a performance of -either ballet or opera, he made up his mind whether it had been good or -bad.</p> - -<p>Sometimes it fell to Jackson’s lot to regulate matters outside<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_245">{245}</a></span> the -Garden. The gallery queues, as is the London custom, attract all sorts -of itinerant musicians and entertainers to the Floral Street side where -they display and reveal their art to the patiently waiting galleryites. -If the hurdy-gurdies and public acclamations grew so loud that they -might disturb any in the offices above, Jackson, with infallible tact, -stopped the disturbance without offending the queuers or the -entertainers by his interference.</p> - -<p>Jackson guarded the Garden inexorably and was relentless on questions of -admission. With unerring instinct, he distinguished between friend and -foe, and was renowned for his treatment of the yellow press and its -columnists, with its nose for gossip and scandal. He is said once to -have unceremoniously deposited an over-enthusiastic columnist in the -street, after having refused a considerable sum of money for permission -to photograph a fainting <i>ballerina</i>. He was once seen chasing a large -woman who was brandishing a heavy umbrella around the outside of the -building. The large woman, in turn, was chasing Leonide Massine running -at full tilt. The woman, obviously a crackpot, had accused Massine of -stealing her idea for a ballet. Jackson caught the woman and disarmed -her.</p> - -<p>The London stage doorkeeper is really a breed unto himself.</p> - -<p>I love opening nights at Covent Garden, when it becomes, quite apart -from the stage, a unique social function in the display of dresses and -jewels, despite the austerity. It is always a curious mixture of private -elegance and public excitement. The excitement extends to all streets of -the district, right down to the Strand, making a strange contrast with -the cabbage stalls, stray potatoes, and the odor of vegetables lingering -on from the early market. The impeccable and always polite London police -are in control of all approaches, directing the endless stream of cars -without delay as they draw up in the famous covered way under the -portico. Ceremoniously they take care of all arriving pedestrians, and -surprisingly hold up even the most pretentious and important traffic to -let the pedestrian seat-holder through. The richly uniformed porters -keep chattering socialites from impeding traffic with a stern ritual all -their own, and announcing waiting cars in stentorian tones.... Ever in -my mind Covent Garden is associated with that sacred hour back stage -before a ballet performance, the company in training-kits, practising -relentlessly. Only those who know this hour can form any idea of the -overwhelming cost of the dancers’ brief glamorous hour before the -public.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_246">{246}</a></span></p> - -<p>Particularizing from the general, from the very beginning, in all -contacts with the British and with Sadler’s Wells, the relations between -all concerned have been like those prevailing in a kind and -understanding family, and they remain so today.</p> - -<p>And now at the Savoy is the best smoked salmon in the world—Scottish -salmon. When I am there, a special large tray of it is always ready for -me. It is a passion I share with Ninette de Valois, who insists it is -her favorite dish. The question I am about to ask is purely rhetorical: -Is there anything finer than smoked Scottish salmon, with either a cold, -dry champagne or Scotch whiskey?</p> - -<p>The repertoire for the second American-Canadian tour of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet included, in addition to <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, the -four-act <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i> (<i>Swan Lake</i>), <i>Façade</i>, <i>A Wedding -Bouquet</i>, <i>The Rake’s Progress</i> and <i>Checkmate</i>, the following works new -to America: their own production of <i>Giselle</i>, <i>Les Patineurs</i>, <i>Don -Quixote</i>, and <i>Dante Sonata</i>.</p> - -<p><i>Giselle</i>, in the Sadler’s Wells version, with its Adam score, has -scenery and costumes by James Bailey, and was produced by Nicholas -Serguëeff, after the choreography of Coralli and Perrot.</p> - -<p>The original Wells production was at the Old Vic, in 1934, with Alicia -Markova in the title role. The production for Covent Garden dates from -1946, with Margot Fonteyn as Giselle.</p> - -<p>It requires no comment from me save to point out that Fonteyn is one of -the most interesting and effective interpreters of the role in my -experience, and I have seen a considerable number of Giselles.</p> - -<p><i>Les Patineurs</i> had been seen in America in a version danced by Ballet -Theatre. The Sadler’s Wells version is so much better that there is no -real basis for comparison. This version, by Frederick Ashton, dates back -to 1937. It has an interesting history. It is my understanding that the -original idea was that Ninette de Valois would stage it. The story has -it that, one night at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre, Ashton, whose -dressing-room adjoined that of Constant Lambert, heard the latter -working out dance rhythms from two Meyerbeer operas, <i>Star of the North</i> -and <i>The Prophet</i>. The story goes on that Ashton was moved by the -melodies and that because “Madame” was so occupied with executive and -administrative duties, the choreographic job was given to him. Ashton -states that he composed this ballet, which is exclusively concerned with -skating, without ever having seen an ice-rink.</p> - -<p>I find it one of the most charming ballets in the repertoire,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_247">{247}</a></span> with -something in it for everyone. In these days of so-called “ice-ballets,” -which have little or no relation to ballet, however much they may have -to do with ice, I find here an academic ballet, which is very close to -skating.</p> - -<p><i>Don Quixote</i> was seen in but a few cities. It was the most recent work, -at that time, to be shown. Choreographed by Ninette de Valois, it was a -ballet in five scenes with both its scenario and its music by Robert -Gerhard, with scenery and costumes by Edward Burra.</p> - -<p>The story, of course, was the Cervantes tale. It was not a “dancing” -ballet, in the sense that it had no virtuoso passages. But it told its -story, nevertheless, through the medium of dance rather than by mime and -acting. My outstanding impressions of it are the splendid score, Margot -Fonteyn’s outstanding characterization of a dual role, and the shrewdly -observed Sancho Panza of the young Alexander Grant.</p> - -<p><i>Dante Sonata</i> was, in a sense, a collaborative work by Frederick Ashton -and Constant Lambert. Its date is 1940. Its scenery and costumes are by -Sophie Fedorovich. The music is the long piano sonata by Franz Liszt, -<i>D’après une lecture de Dante</i>, utilizing the poem by Victor Hugo. The -orchestration of the piano work by Lambert, with its use of Chinese -tam-tam and gong, is singularly effective.</p> - -<p>At the time of its production, there was a story in general circulation -to the effect that Ashton found his inspiration for the work in the -sufferings of the Polish people at the hands of the Nazi invaders. This -appears not to have been the case. The truth of the matter seems to have -been that at about the time he was planning the work, Ashton was deeply -moved by the death of a close and dear relative. The chief influence -would, therefore, seem to be this, and thus to account for the -choreographer’s savagery against the inevitability and immutability of -death.</p> - -<p>It is not, in any sense, a classical work, for Ashton, in order to -portray the contorted and writhing spirits, went to the “free” or -“modern” dance for appropriate movements. While, in the wide open spaces -of America, it did not fulfil the provincial audiences’ ideas of what -they expected from ballet, nevertheless it had some twenty-nine -performances in the United States and Canada.</p> - -<p>The second American season opened at the Metropolitan Opera House, on -Sunday evening, 10th September, 1950. Again it was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_248">{248}</a></span> hot. The full-length -<i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i> (<i>Swan Lake</i>) was the opening programme. The evening -was a repetition of the previous year: capacity, cheering houses, with -special cheers for Fonteyn.</p> - -<p>The demand for seats on the part of the New York public was even greater -than the year before, with a larger number consequently disappointed and -unable to get into the Metropolitan at all.</p> - -<p>From the company’s point of view, aside from hard work—daily classes, -rehearsals, and eight performances a week—there was a round of -entertainment for them, the most outstanding, perhaps, being the day -they spent as the guests of J. Alden Talbot at Smoke Rise, his New -Jersey estate.</p> - -<p>The last night’s programme at the Metropolitan season was <i>The Sleeping -Beauty</i>. The final night’s reception matched that of the first. Ninette -de Valois’ charming curtain speech, in which she announced another visit -on the part of the company to New York—“but not for some -time”—couldn’t keep the curtain down, and the calls continued until it -was necessary to turn up the house lights.</p> - -<p>Following the New York engagement, Sadler’s Wells embarked on the -longest tour of its history, and the most successful tour in the history -of ballet.</p> - -<p>The New York season extended from 10th September to 1st October. The -company appeared in the following cities: Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, -Atlanta, Birmingham, New Orleans, Houston, Los Angeles, San Francisco, -Sacramento, Denver, Lincoln, Des Moines, Omaha, Tulsa, Dallas, Oklahoma -City, Memphis, St. Louis, Bloomington, Lafayette, Detroit, Cleveland, -Cincinnati, Chicago, Winnipeg, Boston, White Plains, Toronto, Ottawa, -Montreal, and Quebec.</p> - -<p>Starting on the 10th September, in New York, the tour closed in Quebec -City on 28th January, 1951.</p> - -<p>In thirty-two cities, during a period of five months, the people of this -continent had paid more than two million and one-half dollars to see the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet. On Election Eve in London, David Webster had -asked me if I could guarantee them their expenses and a profit.</p> - -<p>On the first tour the company covered some ten thousand miles. On the -second tour, this was extended to some twenty-one thousand.</p> - -<p>The box-office records that were broken by the company could only add to -the burden of statistics. Suffice it to say, they were<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_249">{249}</a></span> many. History -was made: the sort of history that can be made again only by the next -Sadler’s Wells tour.</p> - -<p>Some idea of the magnitude of the transportation and railroading -problems involved in an extended tour of this sort may be gathered from -the fact that the “Sadler’s Wells Special” consisted of six Pullman -sleeping cars, six baggage cars, and two dining cars, together with a -club-bar-lounge car on long journeys.</p> - -<p>I made it a point to be with the company at all the larger cities. I -left them at Philadelphia, and awaited their arrival in Los Angeles. -Neither I nor Los Angeles has ever seen anything like the opening night -of their engagement at the enormous Shrine Auditorium, or like the -entire engagement, as a matter of fact.</p> - -<p>Because of a company rule that, on opening nights and in the case of -parties of official or semi-official greeting nature, the entire -personnel of the company and staff should attend in a body, an -unfortunate situation arose in Los Angeles. A Beverly Hills group had -announced a large party to which some of the company had been invited, -without having cleared the matter in advance. The resultant situation -was such that the advertised and publicized party was cancelled.</p> - -<p>The sudden cancellation left the company without a party with which to -relieve the strain of the long trek to the Pacific Coast, and the tense -excitement of the first performance in the world’s film capital. As a -consequence, I arranged to give a large party to the entire company and -staff, in conjunction with Edwin Lester, the Director of the Los Angeles -Civic Light Opera Association, and the local sponsor of the engagement. -The party took place at the Ambassador Hotel, where the entire company -was housed during the engagement, with its city within a city, its -palm-shaded swimming-pool.</p> - -<p>As master of ceremonies and guest of honor, we invited Charles Chaplin, -distinguished artist and famous Briton. Among the distinguished guests -from the film world were, among many others, Ezio Pinza, Edward G. -Robinson, Greer Garson, Barry Fitzgerald, Gene Tierney, Cyd Charisse, -Joseph Cotton, Louis Hayward.</p> - -<p>Chaplin was a unique master of ceremonies, urbane, gentle, witty. As -judge of a ballroom dancing contest, Chaplin awarded the prize to -Herbert Hughes, non-dancer and the company’s general manager.</p> - -<p>At the end of this phenomenal engagement, the company bade<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_250">{250}</a></span> <i>au revoir</i> -to Los Angeles and the many friends they had made in the film colony, -and entrained for San Francisco for an engagement at that finest of all -American opera houses, the War Memorial. I have an especial fondness for -San Francisco, its atmosphere, its spirit, its people, its food. Yet a -curious fact remains: of all the larger American cities, it is coolest -in its outward reception of all forms of art. Even with Sadler’s Wells, -San Francisco followed its formal pattern. It was the more startling in -contrast with its sister city in the south. The demonstrations there -were such that they had to be cut off in order to permit the -performances to continue and thus end before the small hours; the Los -Angeles audiences seemed determined not to let the company go. By -contrast, the San Francisco audiences were perfunctorily polite in their -applause. I have never been able quite to understand it.</p> - -<p>In the case of the Sadler’s Wells <i>première</i> at the War Memorial Opera -House, San Francisco, the company was enchanted with the building: a -real opera house, a good stage, a place in which to work in comfort. The -opening night audience had been attracted not only by interest in the -company, but as charity contributors to a home for unmarried mothers. -The bulk of the stalls and boxes were socially minded. They arrived -late, from dinners and parties. <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> must start at the -advertised time because of its length. It cannot wait for late-comers. -There was an unconscionable confusion in the darkened opera house as the -audience rattled down the aisles, chattering, greeting friends, and -shattering the spell of the Prologue, disturbing those who had taken the -trouble to arrive on time as much as they did the artists on the stage. -My concern on this point is as much for the audience as for the dancers. -A ballet, being a work of art, is conceived as an entity, from beginning -to end, from the first notes of the overture, till the last one of the -coda. The whole is the sum of its parts. The noisy and inconsiderate -late-comers, by destroying parts, greatly damage the whole.</p> - -<p>The War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco, although a municipal -property, has a divided executive in that its physical control is in the -hands of the local chapter of the American Legion, which make the rules -and regulations for its operation. I do not know of any theatre with -more locked doors, more red tape and more annoying, hampering -regulations.</p> - -<p>There is, to be sure, a certain positive virtue in the rule that forbids -any unauthorized person to be permitted to pass from the auditorium to -the stage by ways of the pass-door between the two.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_251">{251}</a></span> But, like any rule, -it must be administered with discretion. The keeper of the pass-door at -the War Memorial Opera House is a gentleman known as the “Colonel,” to -whom, I feel, “orders is orders,” without the leavening of either -discretion or plain “horse sense.”</p> - -<p>On the opening night of Sadler’s Wells, a list of names of the persons -authorized to pass had been given to this functionary by checking the -names on the theatre programme. When Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E., D. -Litt., Director of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, attempted to go back stage -after the first act of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, she was stopped at the -pass-door by the guardian “Colonel.”</p> - -<p>Very simply she told him, “I am Ninette de Valois.”</p> - -<p>That meant nothing to the “Colonel.”</p> - -<p>“Madame’s” name, he pointed out, was not checked off. It was not even -printed on the “official” staff. In another part of the programme, there -it was in small type. But the “Colonel” was adamant. Horatio at the -bridge could not have been more formidable. He was a composite of St. -Peter at the gate and St. Michael with his flaming sword.</p> - -<p>While all this was going on, I was in the imposing, marble-sheathed -front lobby of the Opera House, in conversation with critics and San -Francisco friends, sharing their enthusiasm, when I suddenly felt my -coat tails being sharply pulled. The first tug I was sure was some -mistake, and I pretended not to notice it. Then my coat tails were -tugged at again, unmistakably yanked.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” I thought. “<i>Who</i> is it?”</p> - -<p>I turned quickly, and found a tense, white-faced “Madame” looking at me, -as she might transfix either a dancer who had fallen on his face, or a -Cabinet Minister with whom she had taken issue.</p> - -<p>“What’s wrong?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“The man,” she said, pointing in the direction of the pass-door, -“wouldn’t let me through.” Crisply she added, “He didn’t know who I was. -This is disgraceful, absolutely disgraceful. Unforgivable, I <i>must</i> -say.”</p> - -<p>She turned quickly on her heel and disappeared.</p> - -<p>I was greatly upset, and immediately took steps to have the oversight -corrected. I was miserable.</p> - -<p>I sent for “Bertie” Hughes, the able general manager of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet company, told him what had happened, explained how -distressed I was over the stupid incident.</p> - -<p>Hughes smiled his quiet smile.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_252">{252}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Come on, have a drink and forget it,” he said. “<span class="lftspc">‘</span>Madame’ will have -forgotten all about it within five minutes of watching the performance.”</p> - -<p>As we sipped our drink, I was filled with mortification that “Madame,” -of all people, should have run afoul of a too literal interpreter of the -regulations.</p> - -<p>“Look here,” said Hughes, “cheer up, don’t be disturbed.”</p> - -<p>But the evening had been spoiled for me.</p> - -<p>A really splendid party followed, given by H. M. Consul General in honor -of the company, at San Francisco’s Bohemian Club. The Bohemian Club is -one of San Francisco’s genuine landmarks, a famous organization of -artists, writers, professional and business men, whose “High Jinks” and -“Low Jinks” in midsummer are among the cultural highlights of the area.</p> - -<p>Dispirited, I went only from a sense of duty. It turned out to be one of -the fine parties of the entire tour; but I was fatigued, distraught, and -the de Valois contretemps still oppressed me. I helped myself to some -food, and hid away in a corner. I was, to put it bluntly, in a vile -mood.</p> - -<p>Again I felt my coat tails being tugged. “Who is it this time?” I -thought. It was not my favorite manner of being greeted, I decided, -there and then.</p> - -<p>Cautiously I turned. Again it was “Madame.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the trouble?” she asked, now all solicitude. “Why are you hiding -in a corner? You don’t look well. Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t need a doctor.”</p> - -<p>“Surely, something is wrong with you. You look pale, and it’s not the -very least bit like you to be off sulking in a corner. What’s the -trouble?”</p> - -<p>“The insult to you,” I said.</p> - -<p>I remembered what Hughes had said, when “Madame” replied: “Insult? -Insult?... What insult? Did you insult me?... What on earth <i>are</i> you -talking about?”</p> - -<p>There was no point, I felt, in reminding her of the incident.</p> - -<p>“When you want to speak to me,” I said, “must you pull my coat off my -back?”</p> - -<p>“The next time I shall do it harder,” she said with her very individual -little laugh. “Don’t you think we have been here long enough?... Come -along now, take us home.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_253">{253}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>This is Ninette de Valois.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>Following the San Francisco engagement, the company turned east to the -Rocky Mountain area, the South and Middle West, to arrive in Chicago for -Christmas.</p> - -<p>The Chicago engagement was but a repetition of every city where the -company appeared: sold-out houses, almost incredible enthusiasm. <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i> was the opening programme. Because of the magnitude of -the production, it was impossible to present it except in New York, Los -Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, and Boston. Both public and press were -loud in their praises of the company, the production, the music.</p> - -<p>Another delightful piece of hospitality was the party given at the -Racquet Club in Chicago, following the first performance by Ruth Page, -the well-known American dancer and choreographer, and her husband, -Thomas Hart Fisher. Not only was there a wonderful champagne supper in -the Club’s Refectory, at which the members of the company were the first -to be served; but this was followed by a cabaret, the climax of which -came when Margot, in a striking Dior gown of green, stepped down to -essay the intricate steps of a new and unknown (to her) South American -ball-room rhythm. She had never before seen or heard of the dance, but -it was a joy to watch the musicality she brought to it.</p> - -<p>It is not my custom to visit artists in the theatre before a -performance, unless there has been some complaint, some annoyance, some -trouble of some sort, something to straighten out. However, on this -opening night in Chicago, I happened to be back stage in the Opera House -on some errand. Since I was so close, I felt I wanted to wish the -artists good-luck for their first Chicago performance, and, passing, -knocked at Margot’s dressing-room door.</p> - -<p>No reply.</p> - -<p>I waited.</p> - -<p>I knocked again.</p> - -<p>No answer.</p> - -<p>Puzzled, I walked away to return ten minutes later.</p> - -<p>I knocked again.</p> - -<p>Again no answer.</p> - -<p>Worried, I opened the door.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you hear me, Margot?” I asked.</p> - -<p>Without glancing up, there came two words, no more. Two words, bitten -off, crisp and sharp:<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_254">{254}</a></span></p> - -<p>“G-e-t   O—u—t!”</p> - -<p>It was utterly unlike her. What had happened? I could not imagine. We -had dined together the night before, together with “Freddy” Ashton, -“Bobby” Helpmann and Moira Shearer. It had been a gay dinner, jolly. -Margot had been her witty, amusing self. She had, I knew, been eagerly -awaiting a letter from Paris, a letter from a particular friend. Perhaps -it had not come. Perhaps it had. Whatever it was, I reasoned, at least -it was not my fault. I was not to blame.</p> - -<p>We met after the performance at the party. I was puzzled.</p> - -<p>“Are you angry at me?” I asked her.</p> - -<p>“I?” She smiled an uncomprehending smile. “Why on earth should I be -angry at you?”</p> - -<p>“You didn’t answer when I knocked at your door several times, and then, -when I spoke, you told me, in no uncertain fashion, to get out.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you know that, before a performance, I won’t talk to anyone?” she -said sternly.</p> - -<p>Then she kissed me.</p> - -<p>“Don’t take me too seriously,” she smiled, patting me on the shoulder, -“but, remember, I don’t want to see <i>anyone</i> before I go on.”</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>MARGOT FONTEYN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>In Margot Fonteyn we have, in my opinion, the greatest <i>ballerina</i> of -the western world, the greatest <i>ballerina</i> of the world of ballet as we -know it. Born Margaret Hookham, in Surrey, in 1919, the daughter of an -English businessman father and a dark-skinned, dark-haired mother of -Irish and Brazilian ancestry, who is sometimes known as the Black Queen -in the company, a reference to one of the leading characters in -<i>Checkmate</i>. Margot was taken to China as a small child, where the -family home was in Shanghai. There was also an interim period when she -was a pupil in a school in such a characteristically American city as -Louisville, Kentucky.</p> - -<p>Margot tells a story to the effect that she was taken as a child to see -a performance by Pavlova, and that she was not particularly impressed. -It would be much better “copy,” infinitely better for publicity -purposes, to have her say that visit changed the whole course of her -life and that, from that moment, she determined not only to be a dancer, -but to become Pavlova’s successor. But Margot Fonteyn is an honest -person.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_255">{255}</a></span></p> - -<p>Her first dancing lessons came in Shanghai, at the hands of the Russian -dancer and teacher, Goncharov. Back in London, she studied with -Seraphina Astafieva, in the same Chelsea studio that had produced -Markova and Dolin. At the age of fourteen, her mother took her, -apparently not with too much willingness on Margot’s part, up to the -Wells in Islington, to the Sadler’s Wells School. Ninette de Valois is -said to have announced after her first class, in the decisive manner of -“Madame,” a manner which brooks no dissent: “That child has talent.”</p> - -<p>Fonteyn, in the early days, harbored no ideas of becoming a <i>ballerina</i>. -Her idealization of that remote peak of accomplishment was Karsavina, -the one-time bright, shining star of the Diaghileff Ballet. All of which -is not to say that Margot did not work hard, did not enjoy dancing. In -class, in rehearsal, in performance, Fonteyn developed her own -individuality, her own personality, without copying or imitating, -consciously or unconsciously, any other artist.</p> - -<p>It was after Markova left Sadler’s Wells to form her own company in -association with Dolin that Fonteyn began to come into her own. Ninette -de Valois had a plan, to which, like all her plans, she adhered. She had -been grooming Fonteyn to take Markova’s place. The fact that she has -done so is a matter of history, record, and fact. This is not the place -for a catalogue of Fonteyn’s roles, or a list of her individual -triumphs. Margot Fonteyn is very much with us, before us, among us, at -the height of her powers. She speaks for herself. I merely want to give -the reader enough background so that he may know the basic elements -which have gone into the making of Margot Fonteyn, <i>prima ballerina -assoluta</i>.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, I find her appeal to me is two-fold: first as a pure -classical dancer; second as an actress-dancer, by which I mean a dancer -with a fine ability to characterize. This is important, for it implies -few, if any, limitations. Pavlova, as I have pointed out, was free from -limitations in the same way and, I think, to a similar degree. Anna -Pavlova had a wide variety: she was a superb dramatic dancer in -<i>Giselle</i>; she was equally at home in the brittle, glamorous <i>Fairy -Doll</i>; as the light-hearted protagonist of the <i>Rondino</i>; as the -bright-colored flirt of the Tchaikowsky <i>Christmas</i>. Tamara Karsavina -ranged the gamut from <i>Carnaval</i>, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, and <i>Pavillon -d’Armide</i>, on the one hand, to <i>Schéhérazade</i>, <i>Thamar</i>, and the -Miller’s Wife in <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i>, on the other, doing all with -equal skill and artistry. In the same way, Fonteyn ranges, with equal<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_256">{256}</a></span> -perfection from the Princess Aurora of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, the title -role of <i>Cinderella</i>, and <i>Mam’zelle Angot</i>, the Millers wife in <i>The -Three-Cornered Hat</i>, the tragic Giselle, Swanilda in <i>Coppélia</i>, the -peasant Dulcinia in <i>Don Quixote</i>, on the one hand, to the pure, -abstract dancing appeal of her lyrical roles in ballets such as -<i>Symphonic Variations</i>, <i>Scènes de Ballet</i>, <i>Ballet Imperial</i>, and -<i>Dante Sonata</i>, on the other.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, Fonteyn is freer of mannerisms than any other <i>ballerina</i> I -have known, devoid of tricks and those stunts sometimes called -“showmanship” that are so often mere vulgar lapses from taste. About -everything she does there is a strange combination of purity of style -with a striking individuality that I can only identify and explain by -that overworked term, “personality.” She has a superb carriage, the taut -back of the perfect dancer, the faultless line and the ankles of the -true <i>ballerina</i>. Over all is a great suppleness: the sort of suppleness -that can make even an unexpected fall a thing of beauty. For -<i>ballerinas</i> sometimes fall, even as ordinary mortals. One such fall -occurred on Fonteyn’s first entrance in the nation’s capital, before a -gala audience at the Washington <i>première</i> of Sadler’s Wells, with an -audience that included President Truman, Sir Oliver Franks, and the -entire diplomatic corps.</p> - -<p>The cramped, ill-suited platform of Constitution Hall, was an -inadequate, makeshift excuse for a stage. As Fonteyn entered to the -resounding applause of thousands, she slipped on a loose board and fell, -but gracefully and with such beauty that those in the audience who did -not know might easily have thought it was a part of the choreographer’s -design.</p> - -<p>On the company’s return to London, at the close of the tour, the entire -personnel were the guests at a formal dinner tendered to them by H. M. -Government. The late Sir Stafford Cripps, then Chancellor of the -Exchequer, gave the first toast to Fonteyn. Turning to her, Sir -Stafford, in proposing the toast, said: “My dear lady, it has been -brought to my attention that, in making your first entry into the -American capital, you fell flat on your face.”</p> - -<p>The Chancellor paused for an instant as he eyed her in mock severity, -then added: “I beg you not to take it too much to heart. It is not the -first time, nor, I feel sure, will it be the last, when your countrymen -will be obliged to assume that same prostrate position on entering that -city.”</p> - -<p>To sum up my impressions of Fonteyn, the dancer, I should be</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_027" style="width: 484px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_01a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_01a.jpg" width="484" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Angus McBean</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Frederick Ashton, Ninette de Valois, Leonide -Massine</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_028" style="width: 449px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_01b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_01b.jpg" width="449" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Beryl Grey as the Princess -Aurora</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_029" style="width: 360px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_02a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_02a.jpg" width="360" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Nadia Nerina in <i>Façade</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_030" style="width: 341px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_02b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_02b.jpg" width="341" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Roland Petit</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Germaine Kanova</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_031" style="width: 416px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_03.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_03.jpg" width="416" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Roger Wood</i></p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Margot Fonteyn and Alexander Grant in -<i>Tiresias</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_032" style="width: 407px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_04.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_04.jpg" width="407" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Magnum</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: John Field and Violetta Elvin</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_033" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_05a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_05a.jpg" width="550" height="368" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i>—John Field and Beryl Grey</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_034" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_05b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_05b.jpg" width="550" height="376" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Last Act of <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i></p> -<p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_035" style="width: 416px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_06.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_06.jpg" width="416" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Magnum</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Giselle</i>—Robert Helpmann and Margot Fonteyn</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_036" style="width: 362px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_07a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_07a.jpg" width="362" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baron</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: Elaine Fifield as Swanilda in <i>Coppélia</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_037" style="width: 436px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_07b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_07b.jpg" width="436" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: David Blair and Svetlana -Beriosova in <i>Coppélia</i></p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Roger Wood</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_038" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_08a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_08a.jpg" width="550" height="382" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baron</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>A Wedding Bouquet</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_039" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_08b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_08b.jpg" width="550" height="368" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Act I. <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>—The -Princess falls beneath the spell of Carabosse</p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baron</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_040" style="width: 414px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_09.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_09.jpg" width="414" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Agnes de Mille</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_041" style="width: 497px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_10a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_10a.jpg" width="497" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>John Lanchbery, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet</p> -<p class="cpt"><i>Denis de Marney</i></p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_042" style="width: 428px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_10b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_10b.jpg" width="428" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>John Hollingsworth, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Ballet</p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Maurice Seymour</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_043" style="width: 485px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_10c.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_10c.jpg" width="485" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Robert Irving, Musical Director, Sadler’s Wells Ballet</p> -<p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_044" style="width: 382px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_11a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_11a.jpg" width="382" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>The Sadler’s Wells production of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>: -Puss-in-Boots</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_045" style="width: 418px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_11b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_11b.jpg" width="418" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Robert Helpmann as the Rake in <i>The Rake’s Progress</i></p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baron</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_046" style="width: 370px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_12a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_12a.jpg" width="370" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Rowena Jackson as Odile in <i>Le Lac -des Cygnes</i></p> -<p class="cpt"><i>Derek Allen</i> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_047" style="width: 532px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_12b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_12b.jpg" width="532" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Colette Marchand</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Lido</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_048" style="width: 342px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_13a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_13a.jpg" width="342" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p> - -<p>Moira Shearer</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_049" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_13b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_13b.jpg" width="550" height="423" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Moira Shearer and Daughter</p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Central Press Photo</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_050" style="width: 492px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_14a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_14a.jpg" width="492" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baron</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Symphonic Variations</i>—Moira Shearer, Margot -Fonteyn, Michael Somes, Pamela May</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_051" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_14b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_14b.jpg" width="550" height="343" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_052" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_15a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_15a.jpg" width="550" height="375" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: America is closer: loading at Port -of London</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_053" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_15b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_15b.jpg" width="550" height="367" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Scenery and costumes start the -trek for America</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Acme-PA</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_054" style="width: 393px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_16a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_16a.jpg" width="393" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Gyenes</i></p> - -<p>Antonio Spanish Ballet: Antonio</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_055" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_16b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_16b.jpg" width="550" height="424" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Antonio Spanish Ballet: <i>Serenada</i></p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Gyenes</i></p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_257">{257}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">doing her something less than justice if I failed to call attention to a -supreme quality in her work, viz., that quality of implied ease in all -she does, bringing unstrained pleasure to the onlooker; coupled as it is -with a spiritual quality with which her performances seem to shimmer. -All these things, so far as I am concerned, add up to a <i>ballerina</i> -absolutely unique in my experience.</p> - -<p>Margot Fonteyn is, to me, the true artist, because a great dancer must -be a human being before she is an artist; her art must, in the last -resort, be the expression of her personal attitude to life. She is -many-sided; and the wonder is that she is able to have this breadth of -cultural outlook when so much of her time has had to be spent in -acquiring technique, dealing with its problems and the means of -expression.</p> - -<p>No amount of technique, no amount of technical brilliance or recondite -knowledge will hide the paucity of emotion or intellect in an artist’s -make-up. Technique, after all, is no more than the alphabet and the -words of an art, and it is only the difficulty of acquiring a -superlative technique that has led so many astray. But along what a -fatal path they have been led! How often are we told that the true -artist must devote her whole energies to her art, without the -realization that art is the highest expression of mankind and has value -only in so far as it is enriched with the blood of life.</p> - -<p>As for Fonteyn, the person, whom I love and admire, I have no gossip to -offer, few anecdotes, no whisperings. About her there is not the -slightest trace of pose, pretentiousness, or pettiness. While she is -conscious she is a great <i>ballerina</i>, one of the top-ranking artists in -any art in the world today, she is equally conscious she is a human -being. Basically, she is shy and quite humble. Splendidly poised, -immaculately and impeccably groomed, chic in an international rather -than in a Parisian sense, she is definitely an elegant person. The -elegance of her private appearance she carries over into her appearance -as a <i>ballerina</i>. Anna Pavlova, of all other dancers I have known, had -this same quality.</p> - -<p>Usually Margot dresses in colors that are on the dark side, like her own -personal coloring. Small-featured, small-boned, her clothes, exquisite -in cut, are strikingly simple. She is not given to jewelry, save for -earrings without which I cannot remember ever having seen her. She is -remarkably beautiful, but not in the G.I. pin-up type sense. Again there -is the similarity to Anna Pavlova, who would look elegant and <i>chic</i> -today in any <i>salon</i> or drawing-room, because<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_258">{258}</a></span> her elegance was -timeless. By all this, I do not mean to suggest that Fonteyn’s Christian -Dior evening frocks and day dresses are not modish, but nothing she -wears suggests the “latest word.”</p> - -<p>One more word about her actions. I have mentioned her complete lack of -pretentiousness. I should like to emphasize her equal lack of apparent -awareness of her exalted position in her chosen calling. With the -company, she makes no demands, puts on no airs. There is no false -grandeur and none of the so-called “temperament” that many lesser -<i>ballerinas</i> feel called upon to display upon the slightest provocation, -and often upon no provocation at all. She is one who submits to the -discipline of a great and continuous and uninterrupted and secure -company. Fonteyn works as hard, with daily classes and rehearsals, -mayhap harder, as any other of the large personnel. Her relations with -the company are on the same plane. When the company travels in buses, -Margot piles into the buses with them, joins in with the company at all -times, is a member of it and an inspiration to it. The company, -individually and collectively, love her and have the highest respect for -her.</p> - -<p>Margot’s warning to me not to try to disturb her before a performance -had nothing to do with pose or “temperament.” It is simply that in order -to live up to her reputation she has a duty, exactly as she has a duty -to the role she is to enact, and because of these things, she has the -artist’s natural nervousness increased before the rise of the curtain. -She must be alone and silent with her thoughts in order to have herself -under complete control and be at her best.</p> - -<p>In all ballet I have never known a finer colleague, or one possessed of -a greater amount of genuine good-heartedness. The examples of this sort -of thing are endless, but one incident pointing it up stands out in my -mind.</p> - -<p>A certain American <i>ballerina</i> was on a visit to London. Margot invited -this American girl to go to Paris with her. “Freddy” Ashton was also -coming along, she said, and it would be fun.</p> - -<p>“I can’t go,” replied the American <i>ballerina</i>. “I’ve nothing to wear -that’s fit to be seen in Paris.”</p> - -<p>“Come, come, don’t be silly,” replied Margot. “Here, take this suit of -mine. I’ve never worn it.”</p> - -<p>And she handed over a new Christian Dior creation.</p> - -<p>Now Margot at that time was by no means too blessed with the world’s -goods, and could not afford a new Dior outfit too often.</p> - -<p>On their arrival in Paris, the group telephoned me at the Meur<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_259">{259}</a></span>ice and -came to see me. Turning to the American <i>ballerina</i>, a long-time friend -of mine, I could not help admiring her appearance.</p> - -<p>“Where <i>did</i> you get that beautiful suit?” I enquired.</p> - -<p>“Margot gave it to me, isn’t she sweet?” she replied, quite simply.</p> - -<p>This is Margot Fonteyn: always ready to share with others; always -thinking of others, least of all, of herself.</p> - -<p>The following incident sums up the Margot Fonteyn I know and love. On -the final night of the second American tour, after the last performance, -I gave a farewell supper for the entire company at the Chateau -Frontenac, in Quebec City. There were speeches, of which more later. -When they were over, a <i>corps de ballet</i> member spontaneously rose to -propose a toast to Margot Fonteyn, on her great personal triumph in -North America. The rounds of applause that followed the toast reminded -me of the opening night at the Metropolitan in New York. That applause -had come from an audience of paying customers, who had just witnessed a -new dancer scoring a triumph in an exciting performance. The applause -that went on for minutes and minutes, came from her own colleagues, many -of whom had grown up with her from the School. My eyes were moist. After -a long time, Fonteyn rose to thank them. In doing so, she reminded them -that a <i>ballerina</i> was only as good as her surroundings and that it was -impossible for a <i>ballerina</i> to exist without the perfect setting, which -they provided.</p> - -<p>Here was a great artist, the greatest living <i>ballerina</i> we of the -western world know, with all her triumphs, all her successes about her, -at the apex of her career; very much of the present, here was the true -artist, the loyal comrade, the humble, grateful human being.</p> - -<p>From Chicago, a long journey to Winnipeg for a four-day engagement to be -filled at the request of the British Council and David Webster, -following a suggestion from H. M. the King. Winnipeg had suffered -shocking damage from floods, and His Majesty had promised Winnipeg a -visit from the Ballet while it was in America as a gala to lift the -spirits of the people.</p> - -<p>Here the company had its first taste of real cold, for the thermometer -dropped to thirty-two degrees below zero. The result was that when it -came time to entrain for the journey half-way across the continent to -Boston, the next point on the itinerary, the baggage car doors were so -frozen that they had to be opened with blowtorches and charges of -explosives.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_260">{260}</a></span></p> - -<p>It was a four-day and three-night journey from Winnipeg to Boston, in -sub-zero, stormy weather. The intense cold slowed the locomotives and -froze the storage batteries, with the result that save for the -lounge-bar car, the cars were in complete darkness and were dimly -lighted at bed-time by a few spluttering candles. The severe cold had -also caused the steam lines in the train to freeze, so that the -temperature inside the cars was such that all made the journey wrapped -in overcoats and blankets, wearing the heterogeneous collection of -ear-lapped caps which they had purchased, even to North-west Canadian -wool and fur shakos that blossomed in Winnipeg. Somewhere east of -Chicago the “Sadler’s Wells Special” got itself behind the wreck of a -freight train which had blocked the tracks, necessitating a long detour -over the tracks of another railway, causing still further delays. Nine -hours late, the ice-covered train bearing a company that had gone -through the most gruelling train adventure of the tour, limped into -Boston’s South Station.</p> - -<p>There followed a tense period, for the minimum time required to set and -light <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> is twelve hours. It was another case of -“touch and go.” Two hours were required to get the train broken up and -all the scenery cars placed for unloading; then the procession of great -trucks from the cars to the Opera House commenced; there followed the -unloading, the taking-in, the hanging, the setting, the installation of -all the heavy and complicated lighting equipment, for the theatres of -America, for the most part, are either poorly equipped or not at all, -and the Boston Opera House is in the latter category. Hundreds of -costumes had to be unpacked, pressed, and distributed. But such is the -efficiency of the Sadler’s Wells organization, its general stage -director, the late Louis Yudkin, and our own American staff, together -with the valued assistance of the Boston local manager, Aaron Richmond, -that the curtain rose at the appointed minute.</p> - -<p>I had gone to Boston for the duration of the engagement there. Bearing -in mind the extensive travelling the company had had, climaxed by the -harrowing journey from Winnipeg, I was concerned about their fatigue and -also how it might affect the quality of the performance. My memory of -the Boston <i>première</i> of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> is that it was one of the -very best I had seen anywhere. Sir Oliver Franks, the British -Ambassador, and Lady Franks, together with Lord Wakehurst, head of the -English-Speaking Union, one of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_261">{261}</a></span> the Governors of the Covent Garden Opera -Trust, and now Governor-General of Northern Ireland, came to Boston for -the opening, and greeted the company at a delightful supper and -reception following the performance. Lord Wakehurst has been a veritable -tower of strength in the development of international cultural relations -during the Sadler’s Wells tours; together with Lady Wakehurst, he is a -charming host whose hospitality I have enjoyed in their London home.</p> - -<p>The interest of Sir Oliver Franks, Lord Wakehurst, and the British -Council as evidenced throughout the entire tour, together with the -splendid cooperation of the English-Speaking Union, all helped in one of -the main reasons for the tour, quite apart from any dollars the company -might be able to garner. That was the extension of cultural relations -between the two great English-speaking nations.</p> - -<p>Cultural relations are basically a matter of links between individuals -rather than links between governments, and such a tour as Sadler’s Wells -made, bringing the richness of British ballet to hundreds of thousands -of individuals, helps develop those private relationships; and the sum -of them presents a comprehensive picture of Britain to the world. In our -struggle for peace in the world, nothing is more essential than cultural -understanding. It should be pointed out that the British Council does -not send overseas companies primarily for financial gain, and its policy -in these matters is not dictated by financial considerations.</p> - -<p>The charter of UNESCO states that since wars begin in the minds of men, -it is in the minds of men that the defenses of peace must be -constructed. Personally, I am inclined to doubt if wars ever begin in -the minds of men, but I should be the last to dispute that it is in the -minds of men that the defenses of peace must be constructed.</p> - -<p>It was on the 28th January, 1951, that the greatest ballet tour in North -American history came to an end in Quebec City. It was a night of mixed -feelings. The company was, of course, eager to get home to London, and -also had a longing to continue here. There were the tugs of parting on -the part of our American staff. Our American Sadler’s Wells Orchestra, -forty-odd strong, the largest orchestra to tour with a ballet company in -America, adored the company and the curtain had to be held on the last -ballet on the programme, for the entire orchestra lined up to collect -autographed photographs of their favorites, and refused to heed the -orchestra personnel manager’s frantic pleas to enter the pit before each -musi<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_262">{262}</a></span>cian had his treasured picture. It was quite unusual, I assure you, -for musicians are not noted for their interest in a <i>ballerina</i>. A -sentimental, romantic interest between a musician and a dancer is -something quite different, and is not at all unusual.</p> - -<p>Although it was Sunday night, when the “blue laws” of Quebec frown upon -music, gaiety, and alcohol, we managed, nevertheless, to have a genuine -farewell celebration, which took the form of an after-performance dinner -at the Chateau Frontenac. The company got into their evening-clothes for -the last time on this side of the Atlantic, piled into buses at the -theatre and returned to the hotel, while the “Sadler’s Wells Special” -that was to take them back to Montreal, waited at the station. It waited -a long time, for the night’s celebration at the Chateau lasted until -four-thirty in the morning. It was a festive affair, with as fine a -dinner as could be prepared, and the wines and champagne were both -excellent and ample. We had set up a pre-dinner cocktail room in one of -the Chateau’s private rooms, and had taken the main restaurant, the -great hall of the Chateau, for the dinner. Before the dancing -commenced—yes, despite the long tour, despite the two days the company -had spent skiing and tobogganing in Quebec, with three performances in -an inadequate theatre, they danced—the dessert was served. I should -like to list the entire menu, but the dessert will give an indication of -its nature. The lights in the great dining room were extinguished, the -orchestra struck a chord, and a long line of waiters entered each -bearing flaming platters of <i>Omelette Norvegienne Flambée des -Mignardires</i>.</p> - -<p>The guests included the Premier of Quebec and officials of the Quebec -Government. The only note that dimmed the gaiety of the occasion was the -absence of Dame Ninette de Valois and David Webster, both in London -preparing for the new season. It was not an occasion for long speeches; -our hearts and our stomachs were too full. However, I expressed my -sincere thanks to the entire organization and, in the absence of -“Madame” and Webster, Herbert Hughes, the general manager of the Ballet, -replied, and announced to the company the figures for the tour, amidst -cheers. Then followed the touching incident of the toast to Fonteyn I -have mentioned.</p> - -<p>Before the dancing began, a sudden mania for autographs started, with -everybody collecting every other person’s autograph on the large, -specially printed menus, which I had previously autographed. Apparently -all wanted a menu as a souvenir of a venture that had gone down in the -annals of ballet and entertainment as the greatest success of all time.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_263">{263}</a></span></p> - -<p>From then on the dancing was general, the gaiety waxed higher. I was -doing a <i>schottische</i> with the two-hundred-fifty pound Cockney Chief -Carpenter, Horace Fox, when one of my staff who was responsible for -transportation slid up to the orchestra leader and whispered “The King!” -We all stood silently at attention for the last time. It was well past -four in the morning, and it was to be yet another case of “touch and go” -if the “Sadler’s Wells Special” could make Montreal in time for the -departure of the special BOAC planes which were to take the company back -to London.</p> - -<p>The company changed into traveling clothes as quickly as possible, and -buses slithered down the steep slopes of Quebec to the Station, where -harried railroad officials were holding the train. There was yet another -delay for one person who was left behind on urgent business, finally to -be seen coming, with two porters carrying his open bags and yet another -bellboy with unpacked clothes and toilet articles. As the last of the -retinue was pushed aboard, the train started. But it was long before -sleep came, and for another two hours the party continued up and down -the length of the train, in compartments, bedrooms, washrooms, as staff, -orchestra, stage-hands broke all unwritten laws of fraternization.</p> - -<p>All were asleep, however, when the train swayed violently and with -groaning and bumping came to a sudden stop. It was the last journey and -it, of course, simply had to happen. The flanges on the wheels of two of -the baggage cars that had made the 21,000-mile journey gave way just as -the train started the long crossing of the Three Rivers Bridge between -Quebec and Montreal. Fortunately, we were moving slowly at the approach -to the bridge, slowing down for the crossing, or else—I shudder to -think what might have occurred if we had been trying to make up -time—the greatest tour of history would have ended in a ghastly -tragedy.</p> - -<p>As a result of the derailment taking place on the bridge, we were hours -late arriving in Montreal. But the tour was over!</p> - -<p>Here was a tour where every record of every sort had been broken. It had -reached the point where, if there was a pair of unoccupied seats in any -auditorium from coast to coast and back again, we were all likely to -feel as if the end of the world was at hand. I have mentioned the -mundane matter of the financial returns. From a critical point of view, -I cannot attempt to summarize the spate of eulogy that greeted the -company in every city. Cynics may have something to say about this, to -the effect that the critics had been<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_264">{264}</a></span> overpowered by size and glamor. -But a careful consideration of it all, a sober analysis, disproves any -suggestion that this was the result of any uncritical rush of blood to -the head. On the contrary, it reveals that the critical faculty was -carefully exercised and that the collective testimony to the excellence -of Sadler’s Wells was based on sound appreciation.</p> - -<p>It is impossible for me to bring to a close this phase of the concise -history of the association in ballet of which I am the proudest in my -life without sketching an outline of the quartet that makes Sadler’s -Wells the great institution it is, together with a few of the -outstanding personalities that give it color and are such an important -part of it.</p> - -<p>The list is long, and lack of space limits my consideration to a few. -First of all, let me pay tribute to that directorial triumvirate to -whom, collectively and individually, Sadler’s Wells owes its existence -and its superior place in the world of ballet in our time: Ninette de -Valois, Frederick Ashton, and Constant Lambert. Lamentably, the -triumvirate is now a duo, owing to the recent untimely passing of the -third member.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>NINETTE DE VALOIS</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>I have more than once indicated my own deep admiration for Ninette de -Valois and have sketched, as best I can, her tremendous contribution. In -all my experience of artists, I have never known a harder worker, a more -single-purposed practical idealist, a more concentrated and devoted -human being. In addition to being the chief executive of Sadler’s Wells, -burdened with the responsibility for two ballet companies and a school, -she is a striking creator.</p> - -<p>Living with her husband-physician down in Surrey, she does her marketing -before she leaves home in the morning for the Garden; travels up on the -suburban train; spends long hours at her work; goes back to Surrey, -often late at night, sometimes to prepare dinner, since the servant -problem in Britain is acute; and has been known to tidy up her husband’s -surgery for the next morning, before herself calling it a day. All this, -day in and day out, is done with zest and vigor.</p> - -<p>An idealist she is and yet, at the same time, completely realistic. -Without wishing to cast the remotest reflection on the feminine sex, I -would say that Ninette de Valois has a masculine mind in her approach to -problems artistic or business, and to life itself. She feels<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_265">{265}</a></span> things -passionately, and these qualities are apparent in everything she does. -When her mind is made up, there is no budging her. In a less intelligent -person this might be labelled stubbornness.</p> - -<p>Like the majority of English dancers, prior to her establishment of a -British national ballet, she was brought up in the traditions of Russian -ballet. But it should be remembered that she was the first one to break -up the foundation of the Russian tradition, utilizing its richness to -create an English national school. At Sadler’s Wells, in collaboration -with Constant Lambert, she has devoted a great deal of attention to the -music of our time, although this has never taken the form of any denial -or repudiation of the tradition of the old Russian school—on the -contrary, her work at Sadler’s Wells has been a continuation and -development of that school, using the new to enrich the old.</p> - -<p>As a person with whom to work, I find her completely fascinating. I have -never known any one even faintly like her. Her magnificent sense of -organization is but one aspect of what I have called her “masculinity” -of mind. Figures as well as <i>fouettés</i> are a part of her life. She is -adept at handling both situations and individuals. Her dancers obey the -slightest lifting of her eyebrows, for she is a masterful person, -although quite impersonal in her mastery. She possesses the art of the -single withering sentence. Her superb organizing ability has enabled her -to surround herself with a highly able staff; but the sycophantic -“yes-man” is something for which she has no time. Hers is a -rapid-working mind, often being several leaps ahead of all others in a -conference. Sincere, honest criticism she welcomes; anything other, she -detests. I remember an occasion when a certain critic made a comment -based on nothing more than personal bias and a twisted, highly personal -approach. Her response was acid, biting, withering, and I was glad I was -not on the receiving end.</p> - -<p>I am sure that Ninette de Valois was convinced of her mission early in -her career. That mission—to found a truly national British ballet—she -has richly fulfilled. Much of the work involved in this fulfilment has -been the exercise of great organizing and executive ability: in the -formulation of policy and plans as well as carrying them out; in the -employment of a large number of talented and efficient people; in -determining the scale on which the venture should be conducted.</p> - -<p>I have spoken of “Madame’s” ability to handle people. This has earned -her, in some quarters, an undeserved reputation for being a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_266">{266}</a></span> forbidding -and austere person. The fact that she is, as she must be, a strict -disciplinarian with her company, does not mean that she cannot be a -genuinely gay and amusing person. In certain respects, despite her Irish -birth as Edris Stannus, she is a veritable English lady, in the best -sense of the term, with an English lady’s virtues (and they are -numerous). These virtues include, among others, a very definite, -forceful, but quiet efficiency; more than average common sense; a -passion for being fair; the inbred necessity for being economical. -Against all this is set that quality of idealism that turned a dancing -school into a great national ballet. Idealism dreamed it, practicality -brought it to fruition.</p> - -<p>In those far-off days before the second world war, when I used to visit -the ballet in Russia, it was one of my delights to go to the classes of -the late Agrippina Vaganova, one of the greatest of ballet teachers of -all time, and to watch this wise and highly talented ballet-mistress at -work.</p> - -<p>I noted that it was Vaganova’s invariable custom to open her classes -with a two or three minute talk, in which she would compliment the -company, and individuals in particular, on their work in the ballet -performance the night before, closing with:</p> - -<p>“I am proud of you. Thank you very much.”</p> - -<p>Then they would go to work in the class, subjected to the strictest -discipline, and, sometimes, to the sharpest and most caustic sort of -criticism imaginable. Then, at the end of the class, again came -individual approbation and encouragement.</p> - -<p>This is the sort of little thing I have never observed at Sadler’s -Wells. It may, of course, be there; and again, it may not.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells personnel love “Madame”; regard it as a high -privilege to be a part of the Wells organization; do not look on their -association merely as a “job.”</p> - -<p>It might be that “Madame” could advantageously employ Vaganova’s method -in this regard, use her example in her own relations with her company. -Certainly, it could do no harm, as I see it. It may well be that she -does. The point is that I have never seen it in practice.</p> - -<p>In the better part of a lifetime spent in the midst of the dance, I can -remember no one with a greater devotion to ballet, or one willing to -make more sacrifices for it, and for the spreading of its gospel.</p> - -<p>Let me cite just one example of this devotion. It was during<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_267">{267}</a></span> the second -North American tour of the Sadler’s Wells company that, despite all the -demands made upon her time and energy, she was impelled to undertake a -long lecture tour of Canada and the Northwest to spread the gospel of -ballet and the British Council.</p> - -<p>Herbert Hughes, the general manager, came to me to point out that since -“Madame” had to do this, he felt we should send some one to accompany -her, because she was unfamiliar with the country, and with the train and -air schedules.</p> - -<p>I fully concurred, in view of all he had said, and the possibility of -inclement weather at that time of the year.</p> - -<p>Together we approached “Madame” with the idea. It did not meet with her -approval. It was quite unnecessary. She was quite able to take care of -herself. She did not want any one “making a fuss” over her.</p> - -<p>Of course, she would require funds for her expenses. Hughes prevailed -upon her to accept $300 as petty cash. “Madame” stuffed the money into -her capacious reticule.</p> - -<p>When “Madame” rejoined the company, she brought back $137 of the $300. -“This is the balance,” she said to Hughes, “I didn’t spend it.”</p> - -<p>This entire lecture tour, in which she covered thousands of miles, was -but another example of her tirelessness and Ninette de Valois’ -single-track mind.</p> - -<p>She was due to rejoin the company at the Ambassador Hotel, in Los -Angeles, on the morning of the Los Angeles <i>première</i> of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet, at which time we had arranged a large breakfast -press-conference, over which “Madame” was to preside.</p> - -<p>“Madame” was due by airplane from Vancouver early the previous evening. -Hughes suggested that he should go to the airport to greet her, or that -some one should be sent; but I vetoed the idea, remembering that -“Madame” did not want a “fuss” made over her. Although the plane was due -round about nine o’clock in the evening, midnight had produced no -“Madame.” A telephonic check with the Terminal assured us the plane had -arrived safely and on time. Hughes and I sat up until three-thirty in -the morning waiting, but in vain.</p> - -<p>I was greatly disturbed and exercised when, at nine the next morning, -she had not put in an appearance. The press-conference was set for ten -o’clock, and “Madame” was its most important feature. Moreover, I was -concerned for her safety.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_268">{268}</a></span></p> - -<p>A few minutes before the start of the breakfast conference, unperturbed, -unruffled, neat and calm as always, “Madame” entered the Ambassador -foyer with her customary spirit and swift, sure gait.</p> - -<p>We gathered round her. What had happened? Was she all right? Had -anything gone wrong?</p> - -<p>“Don’t be silly. What <i>could</i> go wrong?”</p> - -<p>But what had happened? We pressed for an explanation.</p> - -<p>“The strangest thing, my dears,” she said. “When I arrived last night, I -looked in my bag for the piece of paper on which I had noted the name of -this hotel. I couldn’t find it; nor could I, for the life of me, -remember it.”</p> - -<p>“What did you do?”</p> - -<p>“Do? I went to sleep at the airport.”</p> - -<p>“And—?”</p> - -<p>“And this morning I said to myself, ‘Come, pull yourself together.’ I -tried an old law of association of ideas. I managed to remember the name -of this hotel had something to do with diplomacy. -‘Diplomacy—Diplomacy,’ I said to myself.... ‘Embassy?... No, that’s not -it.’ I tried again.... ‘Ambassador?’ ... There, you have it. And here I -am.... Let us go, or we shall be late. Where is this press conference?”</p> - -<p>That is Ninette de Valois.</p> - -<p>Ninette de Valois’ work as a choreographer speaks for itself. Her -approach to any work is always professional, always intellectual, never -amateur, never sentimental. Some of her works may be more successful -than others, whether they are academic or highly original, but each -bears the imprint of one of the most distinctive, able, and agile minds -in the history of ballet.</p> - -<p>So far as I have been able to observe, Ninette de Valois <i>is</i> Sadler’s -Wells. Sadler’s Wells <i>is</i> the national ballet of Britain. In looking -objectively at the organization, with its two fine companies, its -splendid school, I pray that Ninette de Valois may long be spared, for, -with all its splendid organization, Sadler’s Wells and British national -ballet are synonyms, and unless the dear lady has someone up her sleeve, -I cannot, for the life of me, see a successor in the offing.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>FREDERICK ASHTON</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Frederick Ashton, the chief choreographer of the company, is the -complete antithesis of his colleague. Where de Valois is realistic,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_269">{269}</a></span> -“Freddy” is sentimental. Where “Madame” may sometimes be rigid, Ashton -is adaptable. Some of his work is “slick” and smooth. He is a romantic, -but by that I do not necessarily mean a “neo-romantic.”</p> - -<p>Ashton was born in Ecuador, in 1909, which does not make him Ecuadorian, -any more than the fact that he spent his childhood in Peru, makes him -Peruvian. His British parents happened to be living there at the time. -It is said that his interest in dance was first aroused upon seeing Anna -Pavlova dance in far-off Peru.</p> - -<p>Moving to London with his parents, “Freddy” had the privilege of being -exposed to performances of the Diaghileff Company, and he had his first -ballet lessons from Leonide Massine. Massine turned him over to Marie -Rambert when he left London. It was for Rambert that he staged his first -work, <i>The Tragedy of Fashion</i>, for the Nigel Playfair revue, -<i>Hammersmith Nights</i>, in 1926. An interim in Paris with Ida Rubenstein, -Nijinska, and Massine, was followed by a long time with Marie Rambert -and her Ballet Club. The Paris interlude with Nijinska and Massine -affected him profoundly. He was a moving figure in the life of the -Camargo Society, and in 1935 he joined the Vic-Wells (later to be known -as the Sadler’s Wells Ballet), as resident choreographer.</p> - -<p>During the years between, Ashton has become England’s great creator. He -is also a character dancer of wide variety, as witness his Carabosse in -<i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, his shy and wistful Ugly Sister in <i>Cinderella</i>. -His contribution to ballet in England is tremendous. Nigh on to a dozen -ballets for the Ballet Rambert; something between twenty-five and thirty -for the Sadler’s Wells organization; <i>Devil’s Holiday</i> for the Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo, a work which, because of the outbreak of the war, -he was unable to complete, and which was never seen in this country with -its creator’s full intentions; two works in New York for the New York -City Ballet; and the original production of the Gertrude Stein-Virgil -Thomson <i>Four Saints in Three Acts</i>, in New York.</p> - -<p>It is interesting to note the wide variety of his creative work by -listing some of his many works, which, in addition to those mentioned -above, include, among others, the following: For the Ballet Club of -Marie Rambert: <i>Les Petits Riens</i>, <i>Leda and the Swan</i>, <i>Capriol Suite</i>, -<i>The Lady of Shalott</i>, <i>La Peri</i>, <i>Foyer de Danse</i>, <i>Les Masques</i>, -<i>Mephisto Valse</i>, and several others.</p> - -<p>For that founding society of contemporary British ballet, which I have -mentioned before, the Camargo Society: <i>Pomona</i>, <i>Façade</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_270">{270}</a></span> <i>The Lord of -Burleigh</i>, <i>Rio Grande</i> (originally known as <i>A Day In a Southern -Port</i>), and other works.</p> - -<p>I have already mentioned some of his outstanding works for the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet. Others include <i>Nocturne</i>, to Delius’s <i>Paris</i>; -<i>Apparitions</i>, to a Liszt-Lambert score; <i>Les Rendez-vous</i>, to a -Constant Lambert score based on melodies by Auber, seen in America in -the repertoire of the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet; the delicious <i>A -Wedding Bouquet</i>, to an original score by Lord Berners and a Gertrude -Stein text; <i>Les Patineurs</i>, to melodies by Meyerbeer; Constant -Lambert’s <i>Horoscope</i>; <i>Dante Sonata</i>, to Liszt works arranged by -Lambert; <i>The Wise Virgins</i>, to Bach arranged by Sir William Walton; -<i>The Wanderer</i>, to Schubert; Walton’s <i>The Quest</i>; <i>Les Sirènes</i>, by -Lord Berners; the César Franck <i>Symphonic Variations</i>; the Coronation -ballet of 1953—<i>Homage to the Queen</i>; and, in a sense, most -importantly, the full length <i>Cinderella</i>, utilizing the Prokofieff -score; and the full length production of Delibes’ <i>Sylvia</i>.</p> - -<p>Actually, I like to think of Ashton as a dance-composer, moving freely -with dramatic or symbolic characters.</p> - -<p>In all my experience of ballet and of choreographers, I do not believe -there is any one more conscientious, more hard-working, more painstaking -at rehearsals. While his eye misses nothing, he never raises his voice, -never loses his temper. Corrections are made firmly, but quietly, almost -in seeming confidence. Always he has a good word for something well -done. On occasion, I have noticed something to be adjusted and have -mentioned it to him.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, I know,” he would say.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you going to tell them?”</p> - -<p>“You tell them,” Ashton would smile. “I can’t tell them. Go on, you tell -them.”</p> - -<p>This was in connection with a musical matter. The conductor in question -was taking a portion of the work at a too rapid tempo. It involved -“Freddy” telling the conductor the passage was being played too fast.</p> - -<p>“No,” repeated “Freddy,” “it will work out. He will see it and feel it -for himself. I don’t want to upset him.”</p> - -<p>An extraordinarily conscientious worker, he is equally self-deprecating. -Some of this self-deprecation can be found in his work, for there is -almost always a high degree of subtlety about all of it. Among all the -choreographers I know, there is none his superior or his equal in -designing sheer poetry of movement. Ashton is able, in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_271">{271}</a></span> my opinion, to -bring to ballet some of that quality of enchantment that, in the old -days, we found only with the Russians.</p> - -<p>This self-deprecating quality of “Freddy’s” is at its strongest on -opening nights of his works. It is very real and sincere.</p> - -<p>“Everything I do is always a flop here in England, you know,” he will -say. “They don’t like me.... I’ve done the best I can.... There you -are.”</p> - -<p>Despite this self-deprecation, Ashton, once his imagination is stirred, -his inspiration stimulated, throws off a certain indolence that is one -of his characteristics, knows exactly what he wants, how to get it, and -goes about it. Like all creative artists, during the actual period of -creation, he can be alternately confident and despairing, determined and -resigned. Despite the reluctance to exercise his authority, he can, if -occasion demands, put his foot down firmly, and does.</p> - -<p>Yet, in doing so, I am certain that never in his life has he hurt any -one, for “Freddy” Ashton is essentially a kind person.</p> - -<p>Three British <i>ballerinas</i> owe Ashton an immense debt: Margot Fonteyn, -Moira Shearer, and Alicia Markova. It is due in large measure to -Ashton’s tuition, his help, his sound advice, and his plastic sense that -these fine artists have matured.</p> - -<p>Every choreographer worthy of the name stamps his works with his own -personality. Ashton’s signature is always apparent in his work. No -matter how characteristic of him his works may be choreographically, -they are equally dissimilar and varied in mood.</p> - -<p>One of my great pleasures is to watch him at rehearsal, giving, giving, -giving of himself to dancers. Before the curtain rises, that final -expectant moment before the screen between dancer and audience is -withdrawn, Ashton is always on the stage, moving from dancer to dancer: -“Cheer up”.... “Back straight, duckie”.... “Present yourself”.... “Chin -up, always chin up, darling.” ...</p> - -<p>Personally, “Freddy” is an unending delight. Shy, shy, always shy, shy -like the shy sister he plays in <i>Cinderella</i>, he is always the good -colleague, evincing the same painstaking interest in the ballets of -others as he does in his own, something which I assure the reader is -rare. I have yet to see “Freddy” ruffled, yet to see him outwardly -upset. In his personal appearance he is always neat, carefully dressed. -Even in the midst of hectic dress-rehearsals and their attendant -excitements and alarums, I have never seen him anything but cool, neat, -and well-groomed. There is never a fantastic “rehearsal costume” with -“Freddy.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_272">{272}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>The picture of “Freddy” that is uppermost in my mind is of him standing -in the “Crush Bar” at Covent Garden, relaxed, at ease, listening more -than talking, laughing in his self-deprecatory way, always alert, always -amusing.</p> - -<p>Ashton lives in London in a house in a little street quaintly called -Yeoman’s Row, on the edge of Knightsbridge and Kensington. Here he often -does his own cooking and here he works out his ideas. It is a tiny -house, the work-center being a second-floor study, crowded with -gramophone records, books, photographs and statuettes, all of which -nearly obscure the red wall-paper. The statuettes are three in number: -Anna Pavlova, Fanny Ellsler, and Marie Taglioni. The photographs range -from good Queen Alexandra, through bull-fighters, to dancers.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells hierarchy seems to travel in groups. One such group -that seemed inseparable included Ashton, “Bobby” Helpmann, Margot -Fonteyn, and Pamela May. Occasionally Constant Lambert would join in, to -eat, to drink, to have fun. For “Freddy” is by no means averse to the -good things of life.</p> - -<p>“Freddy” Ashton is another of those figures of the dance who should -never regard the calendar as a measure for determining his age. I -believe the youthful spirit of Ashton is such that he will live to be a -hundred-and-fifty; that, in 2075, he will be the last survivor of the -founding of Sadler’s Wells, and will then be the recipient of a grand -gala benefit at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, where, that night, -he will share the Royal Box with the then reigning monarch.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>CONSTANT LAMBERT</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>It is difficult for me to write without emotion of the third of the -trio, Constant Lambert, whose loss is deeply mourned by all who knew -him, and by many who did not.</p> - -<p>A picturesque figure, Lambert was a great conductor, a great musician, a -composer of superior talents, a critic of perception, a writer of -brilliance and incisiveness, a life-long student of the ballet. -Lambert’s contribution to the making of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet has, I -suspect, been given less credit than it deserves. I have said that, in -my three decades-and-more of ballet management, I have never known a -ballet company with such high musical standards. These standards were -imposed by Constant Lambert. Not only did<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_273">{273}</a></span> he compose ballets for the -company, but when music of other composers was used, it was Lambert who -provided the strikingly brilliant orchestral arrangements—witness, as a -few examples: <i>Les Patineurs</i>, <i>Dante Sonata</i>, <i>The Faery Queen</i>, -<i>Comus</i>, <i>Apparitions</i>, <i>Les Rendez-vous</i>, <i>Balabile</i>, in which he made -alive for ballet purposes the assorted music of Meyerbeer, Liszt, -Purcell, Auber, Chabrier, respectively.</p> - -<p>Born in London, in 1905, the son of a painter, brother of a well-known -sculptor, he spent a substantial part of his childhood in Russia, where -his grandfather supplied the Trans-Siberian Railway with its -locomotives. He was a living proof of the fact that it was possible for -an Englishman to be a musician without being suspected of not being a -gentleman. His was an incisive mind, capable of quick reactions, with a -widely ranging emotional experience.</p> - -<p>With the Camargo Society, Constant Lambert established himself not only -as a conductor, but as the musical mind behind British ballet. However, -it was not an Englishman who discovered him as a composer. That honor -goes to a Russian, Serge Diaghileff, who, when Lambert was bordering on -twenty-one, commissioned him to write a ballet for his company. No other -English composer shared that honor before Diaghileff died, although -Diaghileff did produce, but did not commission, Lord Berners’ <i>The -Triumph of Neptune</i>. And so Lambert stands isolated, with his <i>Romeo and -Juliet</i>, which was first produced at Monte Carlo, in 1926, with Lifar -and Karsavina as the protagonists; and his second ballet, <i>Pomona</i>, -which Bronislava Nijinska staged at the Colon Theatre, Buenos Aires, in -1927.</p> - -<p>Constant Lambert’s English education was at Christ’s Hospital. Early in -his school days he underwent a leg operation that compelled him always -to walk with a stick. All his life he was never entirely free from pain. -At the Royal College of Music he was a pupil of Ralph Vaughan Williams. -Ballet came into his life at an early date, and remained there until his -untimely passing. To it he gave the best years of his life in acting as -a sort of hair-spring to Ninette de Valois’ mainspring in the -development of Sadler’s Wells. On his sound musical foundation Sadler’s -Wells rests.</p> - -<p>It is not within my province to discuss Lambert as a composer; but his -accomplishments and achievements in this field were considerable. It is, -of course, as a musician he will be remembered. But I could not regard -Lambert as a musician pure and simple. He had a wide variety of -interests, not the least of which was painting. Both<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_274">{274}</a></span> painting and -sculpture were in his family, and, from conversations with him I -frequently got the notion that, had his technical accomplishments been -other than they were, he would have preferred to have been a painter to -a musician. Much of his music had a pictorial quality, witness his -ballets, <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, <i>Pomona</i>, <i>Horoscope</i>, and <i>Tiresias</i>; -observe his <i>Piano Concerto</i>, <i>Rio Grande</i> (“By the Rio Grande, they -dance no Sarabande”), <i>Music for the Orchestra</i>, <i>Elegiac Blues</i> (a -tribute to the American Florence Mills), the <i>Merchant Navy Suite</i>, -<i>Summer’s Last Will and Testament</i>, Hogarthian in color and treatment; -and the work I shall always remember him conducting as a musical -interlude in the first season in New York, the <i>Aubade Heroique</i>, the -reproduction in sound of a Dutch landscape, a remembrance of that dawn -in Holland when Lambert, a visiting conductor with Sadler’s Wells, -witnessed the invasion of The Hague by Nazi paratroopers.</p> - -<p>It was as a conductor of Tchaikowsky that I feel he excelled. He was a -masterly Tchaikowsky interpreter. I should have loved to hear him play -the symphonies. I content myself, however, with his <i>Swan Lake</i> and <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, and the realization of how much these two Sadler’s -Wells productions owe to him. Never was the music for an instant dull, -for Lambert always conducted it with a fine ear for contrasts of brisk -with languid, happiness with <i>toska</i>.</p> - -<p>Composer that he was, he devoted a large part of his life to conducting. -His recordings are to be treasured. Conducting to him was not merely a -source of livelihood, but a very definite form of self-expression, an -important part of him. In my experience, I have found that composers -are, as a rule, bad conductors, and conductors bad composers. Two -exceptions I can name. Both British. Lambert was well nigh unique in his -superlative capacity in both directions, as is Benjamin Britten today. -Lambert, I feel, was not only one of the most gifted composers of his -time, but also one of its finest interpretative artists. He had the -unique quality of being able to enter wholeheartedly into the innermost -essence of forms of art diametrically opposed to his own, even -positively unsympathetic to him personally, and giving superlative -performances of them.</p> - -<p>Lambert was no calm liver, no philosophic hermit; a good deal of a -hedonist, he met life considerably more than half way, and went out to -explore life’s possibilities to the fullest. Moreover, he richly -succeeded in doing so. He was a brilliant wit, both in writing and in -conversation. His book, <i>Music, Ho!</i>, remains one of the most<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_275">{275}</a></span> -stimulating books of musical commentary and criticism of our time. He -was the collector and creator of an innumerable number of magnificent -but unprintable limericks, in the creation of which he was a distinct -poet. He had composed a series of fifty on one subject—double bishops, -i.e., bishops having more than one diocese, like Bath and Wells. A -friend of mine who has heard Lambert recite them with that gusto of -which only he was capable, tells me that they are, without doubt, one of -the most brilliant achievements in this popular form.</p> - -<p>Wit is one thing; stout-hearted, robust humor is another. Lambert had -both. There was also a shyness of an odd kind, when a roaring laugh -would give way to a fit of wanting to be by himself, wrapped in -melancholy. His was a delicately poised combination of the introvert and -the extravert, the latter expressing itself in the love of male company -over pots of ale and even headier beverages. He had a keen appreciation -of the good things of life.</p> - -<p>This duality of personality was apparent in his physical make-up. There -was something about his appearance that, in a sense, fitted in with the -conventional portrait of John Bull. A figure of a good deal of masculine -strength, he was big, inclined to be burly; his complexion was pink. He -exhibited in himself a disconcerting blend of the most opposite extremes -imaginable. On the one hand, a certain morbidity; on the other, a bluff -and hearty roast-beef-and-Yorkshire Britishness. I have said that he -resembled, physically, the typical drawing of John Bull. As a matter of -fact, he bore an uncanny physical resemblance to Winston Churchill, and -had elements in common with G. K. Chesterton. And a Hollywood casting -director might have engaged him to play the role of the Emperor Nero, on -strict type casting. He had an alert face on which humor often played -good tunes, but on which, now and then, there used to settle a kind of -stern gloom, not to be dispersed by any insensitive back-slapping.</p> - -<p>He was as much at home in France as he was in England. His late -adolescence and early manhood were spent in the hectic, feverish, -restless ’twenties, with the Diaghileff Ballet and the French school of -musical composition as the preponderant influences. As he grew older, -his Englishness, if I may call it that, grew as well. The amazing thing -to me was his ability to maintain such an even balance between the two.</p> - -<p>Lambert had a passion for enigmas. He adored cats, and had a strange -attraction to aquariums, zoos, and their fascinatingly enig<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_276">{276}</a></span>matic -inhabitants. He was President of the Kensington Kittens’ and Neuter -Cats’ Club, Incorporated. An important club, a club with a President who -knew quite a lot about cats. There is a story to the effect that there -was once a most handsome cat at London’s Albert Hall who was a close -friend of Lambert’s, a cat called Tiddleywinks, a discriminating cat, -and a cat with a certain amount of musical taste. Lambert, the -President, would never proceed with the job he had to do at the Albert -Hall without a preliminary chat with Tiddleywinks. And all would be -well.</p> - -<p>Constant Lambert was working on, among other things, an autobiography, -concerning which he one day inquired about completely inaccessible -places left in our shrinking world, particularly since the last war and -James Norman Hall have pretty well exposed the South Pacific islands. -What he actually wanted to know was an inaccessible place to which to -hie after its publication, “because,” he said, “I’m telling the truth -about everyone I know, including myself, and I shall have to flee the -wrath of my ‘friends,’ and find a safe place where the laws of libel -cannot reach me. You know, in my country at least, ‘the greater the -truth, the greater the libel.’<span class="lftspc">”</span></p> - -<p>There was an infinite variety in his “drive.” He conducted ballet at -Covent Garden; radio concerts at the British Broadcasting Corporation; -symphony concerts, with special emphasis on Liszt and Sibelius, with the -London Philharmonic Orchestra; made magnificent, definitive recordings; -recited the Sitwell poems in <i>Façade</i> at every opportunity; composed -fresh, vital works; made striking musical arrangements. He was at once -composer, conductor, critic, journalist, an authority on railroad -systems, trains, and locomotives, a student of the atom bomb, and a -talker. There are those who insist he was not easy to get to know. It -could be. He was, as I have said, shy. He was a highly concentrated -individual, living a lot on his nerves. Despite this, to those who knew -him, he was the friendliest of good companions, a perpetual stimulus to -those who delighted in knowing him.</p> - -<p>One had to be prepared, to be sure, to discover, in the middle of one of -one’s own sentences (and, frequently, one of his own) that he was—gone. -He would tilt his chin in the air, stare suddenly into far distant -spaces, turn on his heel with the help of his stick, as swiftly as a -ballet-dancer in a <i>pirouette</i>, and silently vanish. He was a good -listener—if one had anything to say. He did not suffer fools gladly, -and to bores—that increasing affliction of our times—he presented an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_277">{277}</a></span> -inflexible deafness akin to the switching-off of a hearing-aid, and a -truly magnificent cast-iron rigidity of inattention. The bore fled. So -did Lambert.</p> - -<p>I have given some indication of the width of his interests. It was -amazing. His gusto for life was unquenchable, and with it was a wise, -shrewd appraisement of the human comedy—and tragedy. He was able to get -through an enormous amount of work without ever seeming to do anything. -Best of all, perhaps, he was able to enjoy a joke against himself. In -this world of the arts and artists, where morbid egotisms and too -exposed nerves victimize and vitiate the artist, it was a boon to him -and an extraordinarily attractive characteristic.</p> - -<p>Above all, he had an undying belief in British Ballet.</p> - -<p>The last performance I saw Lambert conduct was the first performance of -his last ballet, <i>Tiresias</i>, which was the occasion of a Gala in aid of -the Ballet Benevolent Fund in the presence of H.M. the Queen and -Princess Elizabeth, on the 9th July, 1951. <i>Tiresias</i> was a work on -which Lambert had gone back to his collaboration with Frederick Ashton. -The story he had made himself; it was a sort of composite of the myths -about Tiresias; reduced to as much of a capsule as I can, it deals with -the duality of Tiresias—as man and woman—and how he was struck blind -by Hera, when Tiresias proves her wrong when she argues with Zeus that -man’s lot is happier than woman’s. It was, this ballet, a sort of family -affair in a sense; for Lambert’s wife, Isabel, designed scenery and -costumes, setting the three-scened work on the Island of Crete.</p> - -<p>After the first performance, we met at a large party to which I had gone -with David Webster. Lambert and his wife, along with Ninette de Valois -and Lady Keynes (Lydia Lopokova), joined us at supper. The ballet had -been a long one, running quite a bit more than an hour, and there was -general agreement among us that the work would benefit from judicious -cutting. Lambert thoughtfully considered all the suggestions that were -proffered; agreed that, conceivably, a cut or two might improve it, but -the question was where and how, without damaging what he felt was the -basic structure of the whole.</p> - -<p>Not long after this, Lambert and I met at the door of Covent Garden, -having arrived simultaneously. We had a brief chat, and he was his usual -vastly courteous and amusing self.</p> - -<p>A few days later, at the Savoy, my telephone rang quite early in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_278">{278}</a></span> the -morning. “Madame’s” secretary, Jane Edgeworth, at the other end, -informed me Constant Lambert had just died. I was stunned.</p> - -<p>It appeared that Lambert had been taken ill while at a party and had -been rushed to London Clinic, one of London’s most exclusive and finest -nursing-homes, on Sunday evening, the 19th August. It was on Tuesday -morning, the 21st August, that I received the news of his death. The -funeral was quite private, since the entire Sadler’s Wells company was -away from London performing at the Edinburgh Festival. Lambert was -buried from the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, at Smithfield, in -the City of London. So private was the service that almost no one was -there, and there were no Pallbearers.</p> - -<p>I was present at the Memorial Service, held at the famous Church of St. -Martin’s-in-the-Fields, at Charing Cross, overlooking the National -Gallery. There were gathered his sorrowing company, now returned from -Edinburgh, headed by Ninette de Valois, Frederick Ashton, and David -Webster. The address was given by the Reverend C. B. Mortlock. Robert -Helpmann, an old colleague, read the Lesson. The chorus of the Royal -Opera House, Covent Garden, sang Bach’s <i>Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring</i>. -At the close, John Churchill, one of Britain’s greatest organists and an -old friend of Lambert’s, played on the organ that elegiac work Lambert -had composed at the rape of Holland, and which he had conducted so -magnificently at the Metropolitan Opera House—his <i>Aubade Heroique</i>.</p> - -<p>Here at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields his colleagues paid him honor. I was -deeply moved. At the little funeral, I had been equally stirred. Here -before me was all that remained of the great man who never took his -greatness seriously; the man who would go to any trouble on behalf of -those who tried, but who, for those who were lazy, or cynical, or -thought themselves superior, and without justification, he had no use -whatever. Here was a man about whom there was nothing of the academic -recluse, but a man who loved life as he loved music, ballet, fully, -strongly, with ever-growing zest and with ever-deepening understanding; -the man who had done so much for ballet, its music, its standards; who -had been of such vital importance in the fashioning of Sadler’s Wells. -My thoughts went back to his creations, his arrangements. I was actually -conscious of his imprint on all ballet. Memories of his wit, his -brilliance, crowded into my mind.</p> - -<p>I expected, I think, that with the sudden passing of a man of such fame, -there would be an outpouring of thousands for his fu<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_279">{279}</a></span>neral, to pay their -last, grateful respects. I was surprised. This was not the case, as I -have explained. A few close distinguished friends and colleagues -gathered beside the coffin in the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, -in the City: Sir William Walton, Osbert and Sacheverell Sitwell, Sir -Arthur Bliss, Edmund Rubbra, Alan Rawsthorne, Ninette de Valois, -Frederick Ashton, and Robert Helpmann who had hurried down from -Edinburgh.</p> - -<p>The service was brief and hushed. I was indeed very sad, and my thoughts -traveled out to the little chapel in Golder’s Green, not so far as an -angel flies, where lay all that was mortal of another genius of the -dance and another friend, in the urn marked: “East Wall—No. 3711—Anna -Pavlova.”</p> - -<p>As Lambert’s body was borne from St. Bartholomew the Great’s gothic -pile, I bowed my head low as a great man passed, a very lovable man.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>DAVID WEBSTER</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>I have dwelt at some length on my impressions of the artistic -directorate of Sadler’s Wells. Beyond and apart from the artistic -direction of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, but very much responsible for -its financial well-being, is David Lumsden Webster, the General -Administrator of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden.</p> - -<p>David Webster is not a head-line hunter. He is certainly not the -press-agent’s delight. He does not court publicity. He permits his work -to speak for itself.</p> - -<p>On more than one occasion I have been appropriately chilled by a reading -of the impersonal factual coldness of the entries in that otherwise -useful volume, <i>Who’s Who</i>. The following quotation from it is no -exception:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Webster, David Lumsden, B.A.—General Administrator Royal Opera -House 1946—Born 3rd July, 1903—Educated Holt School, Liverpool -University, Oxford University—President Liverpool Guild of -Undergraduates, 1924-25—General Manager Bon Marché, Liverpool, -Ltd., 1932-40—General Manager Lewis’s Ltd., Liverpool, -1940-41—Ministry of Supply Ordnance Factories, engaged on special -methods of developing production, 1942-44—Chairman Liverpool -Philharmonic Society, June 1940-October 1945.</i></p></div> - -<p>To be sure, the facts are there. Not only is it possible to elaborate on -these facts, but to add some which may be implicit in the above<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_280">{280}</a></span> -summary, but not apparent. For example, I can add that David Webster is -a cultured gentleman of taste, courage, and splendid business -perspicacity. His early background of business administration, as may be -gathered, was acquired in the fields of textiles and wearing apparel, -and was continued, during the war, in the highly important field of -expediting ordnance production.</p> - -<p>Things that are not implicit or even suggested in <i>Who’s Who</i> are the -depth and breadth of his culture, his knowledge of literature and drama -and poetry and music—his love for the last making him a genuine musical -amateur in the best sense of the term. It was the last that was of -immense value to him as Chairman of the Liverpool Philharmonic Society -in building it into one of Britain’s outstanding symphonic bodies. It is -understandable that there was a certain amount of pardonable pride in -the accomplishment, since Webster is himself a Liverpudlian.</p> - -<p>At the end of the war, in a shell-shocked, bomb-blasted London, Webster -was invited to take over the post of General Administrator at Covent -Garden when the Covent Garden Opera Trust was formed at the time of the -Boosey and Hawkes leasehold. Since 1946, David Webster has been -responsible for the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden: for the Opera -entirely, and for the Ballet, in conjunction with Ninette de Valois.</p> - -<p>During this time, he has restored the historic house to its rightful -place among the leading lyric theatres of the world; where private -enterprise and the private Maecenas failed, Webster has succeeded. By -his policies, the famous house has been saved from the ignominy of a -public dance-hall in off-seasons, for now there are no longer any -“off-seasons.”</p> - -<p>David Webster is uniquely responsible for a number of things at Covent -Garden. Let me try to enumerate them. He has succeeded in establishing -and maintaining the Royal Opera House, Covent Carden, as a truly -national opera house, restoring this great theatre and reclaiming it as -a national center for ballet and opera, on a year-round basis. He has -succeeded in shaking off many of the hidebound traditions and -conventions of opera production. While the great standard works of opera -are an essential part of the operatic repertoire, he initiated a broad -policy of experimentation both in the production of standard works and -in new, untried operas. He has succeeded, through his invitation to the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, in making ballet an integral and important part -of the Opera House and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_281">{281}</a></span> has helped it to become a truly national ballet. -In addition to striking national operas by Bliss and Vaughan Williams, -it was Webster’s courage that has provided a home for three unique -operas, <i>Peter Grimes</i>, <i>Billy Budd</i> and <i>Gloriana</i>, great works by that -brilliant young British composer, Benjamin Britten. While it is true the -original commission for the former work came from the Natalie -Koussevitsky Foundation in America, it was Webster who had the vision -and courage to mount both great modern operas grandly. It was Webster -who had the courage to mount the latter, based on Herman Melville’s -immortal story, with Britten as conductor; and a magnificent one he -turned out to be.</p> - -<p>Britten is indisputably at the very top among the figures of -contemporary music. He is a young man of exceptional gifts, and it is -Webster and the permanent Covent Garden organization that have provided -the composer with exceptional opportunities for the expression of them. -This is only possible through the existence of a national opera house -with a permanent roof over its head.</p> - -<p>As is the case with all innovators, it has not been all clear sailing -for Webster; there were sections of the press that railed against his -policy. But Webster won, because at the root of the policy was a very -genuine desire to break away from stale conventions, to combat some of -the stock objections and prejudices that keep many people away from -opera. For Webster’s aim is to create a steady audience and to appeal to -groups that have not hitherto attended opera and ballet, or have -attended only when the most brilliant stars were appearing.</p> - -<p>In London, as in every center, every country, there are critics and -critics. Some are captious; others are not. One of the latter variety in -London once tackled me, pointing out his dislike for most of the things -that were going on at Covent Garden, his disagreement with others. I -listened for a time, until he asked me if I agreed with him.</p> - -<p>My answer was simple and short.</p> - -<p>“Look here,” I said. “A few years ago this beautiful house had what? -Shilling dances. Who peopled it? Drunken sailors, among others. Bow -Street and the streets adjoining were places you either avoided like the -plague; or else you worried and hurried through them, if you must.</p> - -<p>“Today, you have a great opera house restored to its proper uses. Now -you have something to criticize. Before you didn’t.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_282">{282}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>It has been thanks to David Webster’s sympathetic guidance that ballet -has grown in popularity until its audiences are larger than are those -for opera.</p> - -<p>A man of firm purpose, few words, eclectic taste, and great personal -charm, David Webster is a master of diplomatic skill. I can honestly say -that some of the happiest days of my life have been spent working -closely with him. Had it not been for his warm cooperation, his -unquenchable enthusiasm, America might easily have been denied the -pleasure and profit of Sadler’s Wells, and our lives would have been the -poorer.</p> - -<p>The last time I was in Webster’s office, I remarked, “We must prepare -the papers for the next tour.”</p> - -<p>Webster looked up quickly.</p> - -<p>“No papers are necessary,” he said.</p> - -<p>For the reader who has come this far, it should not be necessary for me -to underline the difference between negotiations with the British and -the years of wrangling through the intrigues and dissimulations of the -Russo-Caucasian-Eastern European-New England mazes of indecision.</p> - -<p>My respect for and my confidence in David Webster are unlimited. He is a -credit to his country; and to him, also, must go much of the credit for -the creation of a genuine national opera and for the solid position of -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ROBERT HELPMANN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>It was towards the end of the San Francisco engagement of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet that there occurred a performance, gala so far as the -audience was concerned, but which was not without its sadness to the -company, to me, and to all those who had watched the growth and -development, the rise to a position of pre-eminence on the part of -British ballet. The public was, of course, completely unaware of the -event. It is not the sort of thing one publicizes.</p> - -<p>Robert Helpmann, long the principal male dancer, a co-builder, and an -important choreographer of the company, resigned. His last performance -as a regular member of the organization took place in the War Memorial -Opera House. The vehicle for his last appearance was the grand -<i>pas-de-deux</i> from the third act of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, with Margot -Fonteyn. It was eminently fitting that Helpmann’s final appearance as a -regular member of the company was with Margot.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_283">{283}</a></span> Their association, as -first artists with the company, encompassed the major portion of its -history, some fifteen years.</p> - -<p>During this period, Helpmann had served in two capacities -simultaneously: as principal dancer and as choreographer. An Australian -by birth in 1909, his first ballet training came from the Anna Pavlova -company when Pavlova was on one of her Australian tours. For four years -he danced “down under,” and came to Britain in 1933, studying with the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet School, while dancing in the <i>corps de ballet</i>. -His first important role was in succession to Anton Dolin as Satan, in -the de Valois-Vaughan Williams <i>Job</i>. From 1934, he was the first male -dancer of the Sadler’s Wells organization. Helpmann often took leaves of -absence to appear in various plays and films, for he is an actor of -ability and distinction. As a choreographer, his <i>Hamlet</i> and <i>Miracle -in the Gorbals</i> are distinctive additions to any repertoire.</p> - -<p>“Bobby” Helpmann has not given up ballet entirely. When he can spare the -time from his theatrical and film commitments, he is bound to turn up as -a guest artist, and I hope to see him again partnering great -<i>ballerinas</i>. Always a good colleague, he has been blessed by the gods -with a delicious sense of humor. This serves him admirably in such roles -as one of the Ugly Sisters in <i>Cinderella</i>—I never can distinguish -which one by name, and only know “Bobby” was the sister which “Freddy” -Ashton was not. Both <i>Hamlet</i> and <i>Miracle in the Gorbals</i> revealed his -serious acting qualities.</p> - -<p>Man of the theatre, he is resourceful. On the first night of <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, at the Metropolitan Opera House, there were a few -ticklish moments at the beginning of the Transformation Scene, due to -technical difficulties. The orchestra under Lambert went straight on. -But the stage wait was covered by Helpmann’s entrance, his sure hand, -his manner, his style, his “line,” his graciousness.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned some of Helpmann’s warm personal qualities. He is one -of those associated with Sadler’s Wells who has helped to number my -Sadler’s Wells’ associations among my happiest experiences. Helpmann is -one of those who, like the others when I am with them, compel me to -forget my business interests and concerns and all their associated -problems: just another proof that, with people of this sort, there is -something else in life besides business.</p> - -<p>There has been, perhaps, undue emphasis placed upon Helpmann, the actor, -with a corresponding tendency to overlook his dancing abilities. From -the point of view of sheer technical virtu<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_284">{284}</a></span>osity, there are others who -surpass him. But technical virtuosity is not by any means all of a -dancer’s story. I happen to know of dancers who, in my opinion, have -excelled Nijinsky and Pavlova in these departments, but they were much -lesser artists. It is the overall quality in a dancer that matters. -Helpmann, I feel, is a dancer of really exceptional fluency, superb -lightness, genuine musicality, and admirable control. He is one of the -rare examples among male dancers to be seen about us today of what is -known in ballet terminology as the <i>danseur noble</i>. It is the <i>danseur -noble</i> who is the hero, the prince, of classical ballet. As a mime and -an actor in ballet he may be compared with Leonide Massine, but the -quality I have mentioned Helpmann as having is something that has been -denied Massine, who is best in modern character ballets.</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur Bliss, one of Britain’s most distinguished composers, and the -creator of the scores to, among others, <i>Checkmate</i> and <i>Miracle in the -Gorbals</i>, has said: “Robert Helpmann breathes the dust of the theatre -like hydrogen. His quickness to seize on the dramatic possibilities of -music is mercurial. I was not at all surprised to hear him sing in <i>Les -Sirènes</i>. It would seem quite natural to see him walk on to the Albert -Hall platform one day to play a violin concerto.”</p> - -<p>It is always a pleasure to me to observe him in his varied roles and to -watch him prepare for them. He leaves absolutely nothing to chance. His -approach is always the product of his fine intelligence. He experiments -with expression, with gesture, with make-up, coupling his reading, his -study of paintings, with his own keen sense of observation.</p> - -<p>“Bobby” Helpmann and I have one great bond in common: our mutual -adoration of Pavlova. Pavlova has, I know, strongly influenced him, and -this influence is apparent in the genuine aristocracy of his bearing and -his movement, in the purity of his style.</p> - -<p>There is a pretty well authenticated story about the first meeting -between Helpmann and Ninette de Valois, after the former had arrived in -London from Australia, and was looking for work at Sadler’s Wells. It -was an audition. The choreographer at such times is personally concerned -with the body of the aspirant, the extremities, the quality of movement, -the technical equipment of the applicant, some revelation of his -training and his style, if any. It is characteristic of Ninette de -Valois’ tendency to do the unexpected that, in Helpmann’s case, she -found herself regarding the “wrong end” of her subject. Her comment on -this occasion has become historic.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_285">{285}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I can do something with that face,” she said.</p> - -<p>She did.</p> - -<p>It has been a source of regret to me that on the 1953 American visit of -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, “Bobby” Helpmann is not a regular member of -the company. It is not the same without him.</p> - -<p>I have said that perhaps undue emphasis has been put on Helpmann, the -actor. If this is true, it is only because of “Bobby’s” amazing -versatility: as dancer, as choreographer, as actor, as stage-director. -He can turn at will from one medium to the other. As actor, it should -not be forgotten that he has appeared with equal success in revues (as a -mimic); in Shakespeare (both on stage and screen); in plays ranging from -Webster and Bernard Shaw to the Russian Andreyev.</p> - -<p>Most recently, he has acted with the American Katherine Hepburn, and has -scored perhaps his most outstanding directorial success to date in his -superlatively fine mounting of T. S. Eliot’s <i>Murder in the Cathedral</i>, -at the Old Vic.</p> - -<p>I am looking forward to bringing “Bobby” to America in the not too far -distant future in a great production of a Shakespeare work which I am -confident will make theatrical history.</p> - -<p>“Bobby” Helpmann, as I have pointed out, is more than a dancer: he is a -splendid actor, a fine creator, a distinguished choreographer, an -intelligent human being.</p> - -<p>His is a friendship I value; he is alive and eager, keen and shrewd, -with a ready smile and a glint in his eye. For “Bobby” has a happy way -with him, and whether you are having a meal with him or discussing a -point, you cannot help reacting to his boyish enthusiasm, his zeal for -his job, his flair for doing it. My memories of dinners and suppers with -the “inseparables,” to which I have often been invited, are treasured. -The “inseparables” were that closely-linked little group: Fonteyn, -Ashton, Helpmann, with de Valois along, when she was in town and free. -The bond between the members of the group is very close.</p> - -<p>It was in Chicago. It was mid-tour, with rehearsals and conferences and -meetings for future planning. We were at breakfast. “Madame” suddenly -turned to Helpmann.</p> - -<p>“Bobby,” she said, with that crisp tone that immediately commands -attention. “Bobby, I want you to be sure to be at the Drake Hotel to -give a talk to the ladies at one o’clock <i>sharp</i>. Now, be sure to come, -and be sure to be there on time.”</p> - -<p>“How, in heaven’s name,” replied Helpmann, “can I possibly be<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_286">{286}</a></span> in two -places at one time? You told me I shall have to be at the Public Library -at one sharp.”</p> - -<p>De Valois regarded him for a long moment.</p> - -<p>“You astound me, Bobby,” she finally said. “Did I tell you that? Very -well, then, let it be the Public Library. I shall take the Drake Hotel. -But watch out, make sure you are there on time.”</p> - -<p>Ninette de Valois not only did something with “that face.” She also made -good use of that intelligence.</p> - -<p>I last saw “Bobby” Helpmann dance at the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden, on Coronation Night, when he returned as a guest artist with the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, to appear with Margot Fonteyn in <i>Le Lac des -Cygnes</i>, Act Two.</p> - -<p>What a pleasure it was to see him dancing once more, the true cavalier, -with his perfect style and the same submerging of technique in the ebb -and flow of the dance. I am looking forward to seeing him again, and, I -hope, again and again.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ARNOLD L. HASKELL</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Among my cherished associations with this fine organization, I cannot -fail to acknowledge the contribution to ballet and the popularity of it, -made through the media of books, articles, lectures, by the one-time -ballet critic and now Director and Principal of the Sadler’s Wells -School, Arnold L. Haskell.</p> - -<p>Haskell, the complete <i>balletomane</i> himself, has done as much, if not -more, to develop the cult of the <i>balletomane</i> in the western -Anglo-Saxon world as any one else I know. Devoted to the cause of the -dance, for years he gave unsparingly of his time and means to spread the -gospel of ballet.</p> - -<p>In the early days of the renaissance of ballet, Haskell came to the -United States on the first visit of the de Basil company and was of -immense assistance in helping to create an interest in and a desire to -find out about ballet on the part of the American people. He helped to -organize an audience. Later, he toured Australia with the de Basil -company, preaching “down under” the gospel of the true art with the zeal -of a passionate, proselyting, non-conformist missionary.</p> - -<p>From his untiring pen has come a long procession of books and articles -on ballet appreciation in general, and on certain phases of ballet in -particular—books of illumination to the lay public, of sound advice to -dancers.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_287">{287}</a></span></p> - -<p>Arnold Haskell’s balletic activities can be divided into five -departments: organizer, author, lecturer, critic, and educator. In the -first category, he, with Philip J. S. Richardson, long-time editor and -publisher of the <i>Dancing Times</i> (London), was instrumental in forming -and founding the Camargo Society, after the death of Diaghileff. As -lecturer, he delivered more than fifteen hundred lectures on ballet for -the British Ministry of Information, the Arts Council, the Council for -the Education of His Majesty’s Forces. As critic, he has written -innumerable critical articles for magazines and periodicals, and, from -1934 to 1938, was the ballet critic of the <i>Daily Telegraph</i> (London).</p> - -<p>As critic, Haskell has rendered a valuable service to ballet. His -approach is invariably intelligent. He has a sound knowledge of the -dancer as dancer and, so far as dancers and dancing are concerned, he -has exhibited a fine intuition and a good deal of prophetic insight.</p> - -<p>The fifth department of Arnold Haskell’s activities, educator, is the -one on which he is today most successfully and conspicuously engaged. As -the active head of the Sadler’s Wells School, established in its own -building in Colet Gardens, Kensington, Arnold Haskell is in his element, -continuing his sound advice directly; he is acting as wise and -discerning mentor to a rising generation of dancers, who live together -in the same atmosphere for at least eight years.</p> - -<p>I have a feeling of warm friendship for Arnold Haskell, an infinite -respect for him as a person, and for his knowledge.</p> - -<p>The School of which he is the head, like all other Sadler’s Wells -activities, is carried on in association with the British Arts Council, -thus carrying forward the Council’s avowed axiom that the art of a -people is one of its signs of good health. So it has always been in the -world’s history from Ancient Greece to France at the time of the -Crusades, to Renaissance Italy and Elizabethan England. Each one of -those earlier manifestations, whatever its excellence, was confined to a -limited number of people, to the privileged and the elect. The new -renaissance will inevitably be the emergence of the common man into the -audience of art. He has always been a part of that audience when he has -had the opportunity. Now the opportunity must come in such a way that -none is overlooked and the result will be fresh vigour and -self-confidence in the people as a whole.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells School is, of course, under the direct supervision of -Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E. Its Board of Governors, which is active -and not merely a list of names, numbers<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_288">{288}</a></span> distinguished figures from the -world of art, music and letters.</p> - -<p>The School was founded by the Governors of the Sadler’s Wells -Foundation, in association with the Arts Council, in 1947, to train -dancers who will be fitted to carry on the high tradition of Sadler’s -Wells and generally to maintain and enhance the prestige of British -Ballet. Over eighty-five per cent of the members of the ballet companies -at both the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, and at the Sadler’s Wells -Theatre are graduates of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School. The School -combines a full secondary education and a highly specialized vocational -training. Boys and girls are taken from the age of nine. Pupils are -prepared for what is the equivalent on this side of the Atlantic of a -complete High School education; in Britain, the General Certificate of -Education, and the curriculum includes the usual school subjects of -English language and literature, French, Latin (for boys only), history, -geography, Scripture, mathematics, science, handicraft, music, and art -work. The dance training consists of classical ballet, character dances, -mime. Importance is attached to character formation and to the -self-discipline essential for success on the stage.</p> - -<p>There is also an Upper School, which is open to boys and girls above -school-leaving age. After taking the General Certificate of Education, -the American equivalent of graduation from high school, students from -the Lower School pass into the Upper School if they have reached a -standard which qualifies them for further training in the senior ballet -classes. The Upper School is also open to students from other schools. -Entry is by interview, and applicants are judged on general -intelligence, physical aptitude, and standard attained. Entrants are -accepted on one term’s trial. Here the curriculum includes, in -post-education: classes in English and French language and literature, -history, art, music, lecture courses, and Dalcroze Eurhythmics. In -ballet—the classical ballet, character dances, mime, tuition in the -roles of the classical ballets and modern works in the repertoire of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet Companies. It is important to note that all ballet -classes for boys are taken by male teachers.</p> - -<p>The School is inspected by Her Majesty’s Inspectors of Schools, and is -licensed as a first-class educational institution. The pupils number -about one hundred ten in the Lower School, with about thirty in the -Upper School.</p> - -<p>So splendidly has the School developed that now a substantial<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_289">{289}</a></span> physical -addition is being made to the premises in Colet Gardens, in the form of -a new building, to provide dormitories and living quarters so that it -may become a full-time boarding school, as well as a day-school; and -thus obviate the necessity for many students to live outside the school, -either at home or, as so often the case if the students come from -distant places, in the proverbial London “digs.”</p> - -<p>One of the most interesting and significant things about the School to -me is the number of boys enrolled and their backgrounds. Such is the -feeling about male dancing in our Anglo-Saxon civilization that many of -the boys have had to be offered scholarship inducements to enroll. The -bulk of the boys come out of working-class families in the North of -England and the Midlands. They are tough and manly. It is from boys such -as these that the prejudice against male dancing will gradually die out, -and the effeminate dancer will become, as he should, a thing of the -past.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>MOIRA SHEARER</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Although, to my regret, due to personal, family, and artistic reasons, -Moira Shearer is not present with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet on its -1953-1954 North American tour, I know her devotion to the Sadler’s Wells -institution remains unchanged.</p> - -<p>The simple fact is that Moira Shearer is preparing to enter a new and -different aspect of the theatre, a development with which I hope I shall -have something to do in the near future.</p> - -<p>Among the personalities of the company during the first two Sadler’s -Wells tours, American interest and curiosity were at their highest, for -obvious reasons, in Moira Shearer. The film, <i>Red Shoes</i>, had stimulated -an interest in ballet on the part of yet another new public, and its -<i>ballerina</i> star had acquired the questionable halo of a movie star. -This was something that was anything but pleasing to the gentle, -intelligent Moira Shearer; and was, moreover, something she deplored.</p> - -<p>Born in Dunfermline, Fifeshire, Scotland, in 1926, Moira Shearer came to -ballet at an early age, having had dance lessons in Rhodesia as a child -at the hands of a former Diaghileff dancer. It was on her return to -England, when she was about eleven, that her serious studies began with -Madame Nadine Nicolaeva-Legat. In 1940 she joined the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet School, remaining briefly, however,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_290">{290}</a></span> because of the blitz. But, -early in 1941, she turned up with the International Ballet, another -British ballet organization, dancing leading roles at the age of -fourteen, another example of the “baby” <i>ballerina</i>. In 1942, she left -that company to rejoin Sadler’s Wells School.</p> - -<p>In 1943, Shearer became a member of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, achieving -an almost instant success and a marked popularity with audiences. What -impresses me most about Moira Shearer, the dancer, is a fluidity of -movement that has about it a definite Russian quality; she has a fine -polish in her style, coupled with great spontaneity and a gentle, easy -grace.</p> - -<p>Distinctive not only for her Titian-coloring and her famed auburn-haired -beauty and her slender grace, Shearer is equally noteworthy for her -poise and an almost incredible lightness; for her assurance and -classical dignity; for her ability to dominate the stage. The “Russian” -quality about her dancing I have mentioned, I suspect stems from her -early indoctrination and her training at the hands of Madame Legat; -there is something Russian about her entrances, when she immediately -commands the stage and becomes the focus of all eyes. All of these -qualities are particularly apparent in <i>Cinderella</i>.</p> - -<p>Moira Shearer’s reputation had preceded her across the United States and -Canada, as I have pointed out, because of the exhibition of spontaneity, -beauty and charm that had been revealed to thousands in the motion -picture, <i>Red Shoes</i>. There is no denying this film was highly -successful. I suppose it can be argued successfully that <i>Red Shoes</i> -brought ballet to a new audience, and thus, in that sense, was good for -ballet. Whatever it may have been, it was not a true, or good, or honest -picture of ballet. I happen to know how Moira Shearer feels about it, -and I share her feelings. Although she dislikes to talk or hear very -much about <i>Red Shoes</i>, and was not very happy with it or about it, she -was, I fancy, less disturbed by her role in <i>The Tales of Hoffman</i>, with -“Freddy” Ashton, “Bobby” Helpmann, and Leonide Massine. Best of all her -film excursions, Moira feels, was her sequence in <i>My Three Loves</i>, -which Ashton directed for her in Hollywood.</p> - -<p>Once, on introducing her to one of those characteristic, monumental -California salads, her comment was: “My, but it’s delicious; yet it -looks like that Technicolor mess I should like to forget.” Shearer feels -<i>Red Shoes</i> was rather a sad mess, a complete travesty<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_291">{291}</a></span> of the ballet -life which it posed as portraying; that it was false and phoney -throughout, and that, perhaps, the phoniest thing about it was its -alleged glamor. On the other hand, she does not regard the time she -spent making it wasted, for, as she says, she was able to sit at the -feet of Leonide Massine and watch and learn and observe the -concentration with which he worked, the intelligence he brought to every -gesture, and the vast ingenuity and originality he applied to everything -he did.</p> - -<p>I happen to know Shearer has no illusions about the film publicity -campaign that made her a movie star overnight. She was amused by it, but -never taken in, and was hurt only when the crowds mobbed for autographs -and Americans hailed her as “<i>the</i> star” of Sadler’s Wells.</p> - -<p>Cultured and highly intelligent, Moira Shearer is intensely musical, -both in life and in the dance. This musicality is particularly apparent -in her portrayal of the Princess Aurora in <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, and in -the dual role of Odette-Odile in <i>Swan Lake</i>. Again it is markedly -noticeable in a quite non-classical work, for of all the dancers I have -seen dance the Tango in <i>Façade</i>, she is by far the most satiric and -brilliant. She is well-nigh indispensable to <i>Wedding Bouquet</i>.</p> - -<p>Aside from the qualities I have mentioned, there is also a fine -romanticism about her work. Intelligence in a dancer is something that -is rare. There are those who argue that it is not necessarily a virtue -in a dancer. They could not be more wrong. It is, I think, Moira -Shearer’s superior intelligence that gives her, among other things, that -power of pitiless self-criticism that is the hallmark of the first-class -artist.</p> - -<p>Moira Shearer has been as fortunate in her private life as in her -professional activities. She lives happily in a lovely London home with -her attractive and talented writer-husband, Ludovic Kennedy. During the -second Sadler’s Wells American tour, her husband drove across the -continent from New York to Los Angeles to join Moira for the California -engagement, discovering, by means of a tiny Austin, that there were -still a great many of the wide-open spaces left in the land Columbus -discovered.</p> - -<p>In her charming London flat, with her husband, her books, her pictures, -and her music, she carries out one of her most serious ambitions: to be -a good mother; for the center of the household is her young daughter, -born in midsummer, 1952.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_292">{292}</a></span></p> - -<p>The depth of Moira Shearer’s sincerity I happen to know not only from -others, but from personal experience. It is a genuine and real sincerity -that applies to every aspect of her life, and not only in art and the -theatre.</p> - -<p>A loyal colleague, she has a highly developed sense of honor. As Ninette -de Valois once remarked to me: “Anything that Moira has ever said or -promised is a bond with her, and nothing of a confirming nature in -writing is required.”</p> - -<p>A splendid artist, <i>ballerina</i>, and film star, it is my profound hope -that Moira may meet with the same degree of success in her new venture -into the legitimate theatre.</p> - -<p>There seems little doubt of this, since I am persuaded that she will -make good in anything she undertakes.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>BERYL GREY</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Another full-fledged <i>ballerina</i> of the company, is Beryl Grey, who -alternates all <i>ballerina</i> roles today with Fonteyn, Violetta Elvin, -Nadia Nerina and Rowena Jackson. Beryl Grey’s American success was -assured on the opening night of the first season at the Metropolitan -Opera House, with her gracious and commandingly sympathetic performance -of the Lilac Fairy in <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>.</p> - -<p>In a sense, Grey’s and Shearer’s careers have followed a similar -pattern, in that they were both “baby ballerinas.” Born Beryl Groom, at -Muswell Hill, in London’s Highgate section, in 1927, the daughter of a -government technical expert and his wife, Beryl Grey’s dancing studies -began very early in life in Manchester, and at the age of nine, she won -a scholarship at the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School. In 1941, she joined -the company, and so rapid was her growth as an artist that she danced -leading roles in some half-dozen of the one-act ballets in the -repertoire, in place of Margot Fonteyn who had been taken ill. Even more -remarkable is the fact that she danced the full-length <i>Swan Lake</i> in -London on her fifteenth birthday.</p> - -<p>The term, “baby ballerina,” has become a part of ballet’s language, due -to its association with the careers of Baronova and Toumanova in the -early ’thirties. In Grey’s case, however, she was privileged to have a -much wider experience in classical ballets than her <i>émigré</i> Russian -predecessors. She was only seventeen when she danced the greatest of all -classical roles in the repertoire of the true <i>ballerina</i>, Giselle.</p> - -<p>My feeling about Beryl Grey, the dancer, is that she possesses<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_293">{293}</a></span> -strikingly individual qualities, both of style and technique. She has -been greatly helped along the path to stardom by Frederick Ashton who, -as I have pointed out, likes nothing better than to discover and exploit -a dancer’s talents. It was he who gave Grey her first big dramatic -parts.</p> - -<p>Beryl Grey is married to a distinguished Swedish osteopath, Dr. Sven -Svenson, and they live in a charming Mayfair flat in London. Here again -one finds that characteristic of fine intelligence coupled with an -intense musicality. Also rare among dancers, Grey is an omnivorous -reader of history, biography, and the arts. She feels, I know, that, -apart from “Madame” and Ashton, who have been so keenly instrumental in -shaping her career, a sense of deep gratitude to Constant Lambert for -his kindness and help to her from her very early days; for his readiness -to discuss with her any aspect of music; and she gratefully remembers -how nothing was too inconsequential for his interest, his advice and -help; how no conductor understood what the dancer required from music -more than he did. She is also mindful of the inspiration she had from -Leonide Massine, of his limitless energy, his indefatigable enthusiasm, -his creative fire; she learned that no detail was too small to be -corrected and worked over and over. As she says: “He was so swift and -light, able to draw with immediate ease a complete and clear picture.” -Also, she points out, “He was quiet and of few words, but had a fine -sense of humor which was often reflected in his penetrating brown eyes. -His rare praise meant a great deal.”</p> - -<p>Beryl Grey is the star in the first three-dimensional ballet film ever -to be made, based on the famous Black Swan <i>pas de deux</i> from <i>Le Lac -des Cygnes</i>.</p> - -<p>From the point of view of a dancer, Beryl Grey had one misfortune over -which she had to triumph: she is above average height. This she has been -able to turn into a thing of beauty, with a beautifully flowing length -of “line.” Personally, she is a gentle person, with a genuine humility -and a simple unaffected kindliness, and a fresh, completely unspoiled -charm. Her success in all the great roles has been such as to make her -one of the most popular figures with the public.</p> - -<p>I find great pleasure in her precision and strength as a dancer, in her -poised, statuesque grace, in her clean technique; and in her special -sort of technical accomplishment, wherein nothing ever seems to present -her any problems.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_294">{294}</a></span></p> - -<p>During the American tours of Sadler’s Wells, she is almost invariably -greeted with flowers at the station. She seems to have friends in every -city. How she manages to do this, I am not sure; but I feel it must be a -tribute to her genuine warmth and friendliness.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>VIOLETTA ELVIN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Violetta Elvin, another of the talented <i>ballerinas</i> of the “fabulous” -Sadler’s Wells company, is in the direct line of Russian ballet, for she -is a product of the contemporary ballet of Russia.</p> - -<p>The daughter of a pioneer of Russian aviation, Vassili Prokhoroff, and -his wife, Irina Grimousinkaya, a Polish artist and an early experimenter -with action photography, Violetta Prokhorova became a pupil at the -Bolshoi Theatre, Moscow, at the age of nine. It is interesting to note -that she was one of a class of fifty accepted out of five hundred -applicants; it is still more interesting, and an example of the rigorous -Russian training, that, when she finished the course nine years later, -out of the original fifty there were only nine left: three girls and six -boys. Of the three girls, Prokhorova was the only one who attained -ballet’s coveted rank of <i>etoile</i>.</p> - -<p>Violetta finished her training at the time Moscow was being evacuated -against the Nazi invasion, and was sent on a three-thousand mile journey -to be a <i>ballerina</i> at the ballet at Tashkent, Russian Turkestan. Here, -at the age of eighteen, she danced the leading roles in two works, <i>The -Fountain of Bakchissarai</i>, based on Pushkin’s famous poem, and <i>Don -Quixote</i>, the Minkus work of which contemporary American balletgoers -know only the famous <i>pas de deux</i>, but which I presented in America, -during the season 1925-1926, staged by Laurent Novikoff, with settings -and costumes by the great Russian painter, Korovin.</p> - -<p>Another point of interest about Elvin is that she was never a member of -the <i>corps de ballet</i>, for she was transferred from Tashkent to the -Bolshoi Ballet, which had been moved, for safety reasons, to Kuibyshev, -some five hundred miles from Moscow. In the early autumn of 1943, when -the Nazi horde had been driven back in defeat, the Ballet returned to -the Bolshoi, and Prokhorova danced important roles there.</p> - -<p>It was in Moscow, in 1945, that Violetta Prokhorova married Harold -Elvin, an architect associated with the British Embassy, and came with -him to London. On her arrival in London she be<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_295">{295}</a></span>came a member of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, first as a soloist, and later as <i>ballerina</i>.</p> - -<p>My own impressions are of a vibrant personality and a great beauty. Her -feet are extraordinarily beautiful, and, if I am any judge of the female -figure, I would say her body approximates the perfect classical -proportions. In her dancing, her Russian training is at all times -evident, for there is a charm of manner, a broad lyricism, coupled with -a splendid poise that are not the common heritage of all western -dancers.</p> - -<p>It begins to sound like an overworked cliché, but again we have that -rare quality in a dancer: intelligence. Once again, intelligence coupled -with striking beauty. Elvin’s interests include all the classics in -literature, the history of art, philosophy, museums, and good Russian -food.</p> - -<p>Already Elvin has had a film career, two motion pictures to date: <i>Twice -Upon a Time</i>, by the makers of <i>Red Shoes</i>, and the latest, the story of -the great British soprano, Nellie Melba, the title role of which is -played by Patrice Munsel.</p> - -<p>While engaged on the second American tour of the Sadler’s Wells company, -Violetta met an American, whom she has recently married.</p> - -<p>Talented far beyond average measure, Elvin is a true <i>ballerina</i> in the -tradition of the Russian school and is ever alert to improve her art and -to give audiences something better than her best.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>NADIA NERINA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>I cannot fail to pay my respects to the young Nadia Nerina, today -another of the alternating <i>ballerinas</i> of the company, with full -<i>ballerina</i> standing, whom I particularly remember as one of the most -delightful and ebullient soloists of the company on its two American -visits.</p> - -<p>An example of the wide British Commonwealth base of the personnel of the -Sadler’s Wells company, Nadia Nerina is from South Africa, where she was -born in 1927. It was in Cape Town that she commenced her ballet studies -and had her early career; for she was a winner of the <i>South African -Dancing Times</i> Gold Medal and, when she was fifteen, was awarded the -Avril Kentridge Shield in the Dance Festival at Durban. Moreover, she -toured the Union of South Africa and, when nineteen, went to London to -study<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_296">{296}</a></span> at the Sadler’s Wells School. Very soon after her arrival, she -was dancing leading roles and was one of the <i>ballerinas</i> of the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet.</p> - -<p>Such was her success in Rosebery Avenue, and such the wisdom of Ninette -de Valois, that, within the year, Nerina was transferred to Covent -Carden. Today, as I have pointed out, she has been promoted to full -<i>ballerina</i> status.</p> - -<p>It is a well-deserved promotion, for Nerina’s development has been as -sure as it has been steady. I have seen her in <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i> since -her ascendancy to full <i>ballerina</i> rank, and have rejoiced in her fine -technical performance, as I have in the quality of her miming—something -that is equally true in Delibes’ <i>Sylvia</i>.</p> - -<p>It is characteristic of Ninette de Valois that she gives all her -<i>ballerinas</i> great freedom within the organization. One is permitted to -go to Denmark, Norway, Sweden. Another to La Scala, Milan. Yet another -to films. An example of this desire on “Madame’s” part to encourage her -leading personnel to extend their experience and to prevent any spirit -of isolation, is the tour Nerina recently made through her native South -Africa, in company with her Sadler’s Wells partner, Alexis Rassine, -himself a South African.</p> - -<p>The outstanding quality in Nerina’s dancing for me is the sheer joy she -brings to it, a sort of love for dancing for its own sake. In everything -she does, there is the imprint of her own strong personality, her -vitality, and the genuine elegance she brings to the use of her sound -technique.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ROWENA JACKSON</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>During the first two American tours of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, a -young dancer who attracted an unusual amount of attention, particularly -in the Ashton-Lambert <i>Les Patineurs</i>, for her remarkable virtuosic -performance and her multiple turns, was Rowena Jackson.</p> - -<p>Today, Rowena Jackson is the newest addition to the Sadler’s Wells list -of <i>ballerinas</i>.</p> - -<p>Rowena Jackson is still another example of the width of the British -Commonwealth base of the Sadler’s Wells organization, having been born -in Invercargil, New Zealand, on the 24th March, 1926, where her father -was postmaster. Her first ballet training was at the Lawson-Powell -School, in New Zealand. It was in 1947 that the young dancer joined the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_297">{297}</a></span></p> - -<p>This rise of the British dancer more than fulfils the prophecy of The -Swan. It was thirty years ago that Pavlova said: “English women have -fine faces, graceful figures, and a real sense of poetry of dancing. -They only lack training to provide the best dancers of the world.” She -went on: “If only more real encouragement were given in England to -ballet dancers the day would not be far distant when the English dancer -would prove a formidable rival to the Russians.”</p> - -<p>Now that the British dancer has been given the encouragement, the truth -of Anna Pavlova’s prophecy is the more striking.</p> - -<p>As I have said, Rowena Jackson attracted attention throughout North -America in <i>Les Patineurs</i>, gaining a reputation for a surpassing -technical brilliance in turns. These turns, known as <i>fouetées</i>, I have -mentioned more than once. Legend has it that Jackson can do in excess of -one hundred-fifty of them, non-stop. It is quite incredible.</p> - -<p>Brilliance is one thing. Interpretation is another. When I saw Jackson -in <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i>, my admiration for her and for Ninette de Valois -soared. Jackson’s Swan Queen proved to me that at Sadler’s Wells another -<i>ballerina</i> had been born. (I nearly wrote “created”; but <i>ballerinas</i> -are born, not made). As the Swan Queen she was all pathos and softness -and tenderness and protectiveness; to the evil Black Swan, Odile, she -brought the hard brittleness the role demands.</p> - -<p>Rowena Jackson’s future among the illustrious of the world of ballet -seems assured, and I shall watch her with interest, as I am sure will -audiences.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>SADLER’S WELLS THEATRE BALLET</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>While I was in London after the close of the first American tour of the -Sadler’s Wells Covent Garden Ballet, I paid a visit to the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, the cradle of the organization.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells Theatre is in Rosebery Avenue, in the Borough of -Islington, now a middle-class residential section of London, but once a -county borough. For nearly three hundred years, the site of the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre has been used for entertainment purposes. Several theatres -have stood on the site, and while the dance has always been prominent in -its history, everything from tight-rope and wire-walking exhibitions to -performing dogs and dance troupes has been seen there.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_298">{298}</a></span></p> - -<p>It was in 1683 that a certain Thomas Sadler, who was, apparently, a -Highway Surveyor, lived there in what was then Clerkenwell, and found a -well, actually a spring, having medicinal properties, in his garden. It -soon was regarded as a holy well, with healing powers attributed to it. -Hither came the halt, the blind and the sick to be cured, and Mr. Sadler -determined to commercialize his property. On his lawn he built his Musik -House, a long room with a stage, orchestra and seats for those partakers -of the waters who desired refreshments as well during their -imbibing—and he also provided entertainment. The well is still there -today, preserved under the present theatre, but is no longer used, and -the theatre’s water supply is from the municipal mains.</p> - -<p>Rebuilt, largely by public subscription, the present theatre was opened -in 1931, alternating opera and Shakespeare with the Old Vic, but -eventually it became the exclusive home and base of the Sadler’s Wells -Opera Company and the Sadler’s Wells Ballet Company. In 1946, when -Ninette de Valois accepted the invitation of the Covent Garden Opera -Trust to move the Sadler’s Wells Ballet company to the Royal Opera -House, Covent Garden, another company (actually the revival of another -idea, the Sadler’s Wells Opera Ballet) was established at the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, and called the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet.</p> - -<p>Here, in a fine, comfortable, modern theatre, I saw a fresh young -company, with seasoned artists, first-class productions, and some -first-rate dancing: a company I felt America should know.</p> - -<p>There was an extensive repertoire of modern works by Frederick Ashton, -Ninette de Valois, and the rising young John Cranko, and others. The -Ashton works include <i>Façade</i>, the Ravel <i>Valses Nobles et -Sentimentales</i>; <i>Les Rendez-Vous</i>, to Auber music arranged by Constant -Lambert; and the charming <i>Capriol Suite</i>, to the music by Philip -Heseltine (Peter Warlock), inspired by Arbeau’s <i>Orchesographie</i>. There -were three works by Andrée Howard: <i>Assembly Ball</i>, to the Bizet -Symphony in C; <i>Mardi Gras</i>; and <i>La Fête Etrange</i>. Celia Franka had an -interesting work, <i>Khadra</i>, to a Sibelius score, with charming Persian -miniature setting and costumes by Honor Frost. The young South African -John Cranko, who had been a member of the Covent Garden company in the -first New York season, had a number of extremely interesting works, -including <i>Sea Change</i>; and Ninette de Valois had revived her <i>The -Haunted Ballroom</i>, to a Geoffrey Toye score, and the Lambert-Boyce <i>The -Prospect Before<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_299">{299}</a></span> Us</i>. There were also sound classics, including <i>Swan -Lake</i>, in the second act version.</p> - -<p>The company, under the direction of Ninette de Valois, had a fine -dancer, Peggy van Praagh, as ballet mistress.</p> - -<p>It occurred to me that, by adding new elements and reviving full length -works, it would be an excellent thing to bring the company to the United -States and Canada for a tour following upon that of the Covent Garden -company.</p> - -<p>I discussed the matter with Ninette de Valois and David Webster, both of -whom were favorable to the idea; and, since it was impossible for the -Covent Garden company to come over for a third tour at that time, they -urged me to give further consideration to the possibility.</p> - -<p>On my next visit to London, I went over matters in detail with George -Chamberlain, Clerk to the Governors of Sadler’s Wells, and himself the -opposite number at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre to David Webster at Covent -Garden. I found Chamberlain equally cooperative and helpful, despite the -fact he has a wide variety of interests and responsibilities, including -the Sadler’s Wells Opera Company, the Old Vic, and the Sadler’s Wells -School. We have become close friends. Following our initial conferences, -we went into a series of them, in conjunction with Ursula Moreton, at -the time “Madame’s” assistant at Sadler’s Wells, and Peggy van Praagh, -the company’s ballet mistress.</p> - -<p>As a result of these discussions, it was agreed to increase the size of -the dancing personnel of the company from thirty-two to thirty-six, and -to bring to North America a repertoire of fourteen ballets, including -one full-length work, and to add to the roster one or two more principal -dancers.</p> - -<p>Handshakes all round sealed the bargain, and a contract was signed for a -twenty-two week season for 1951-52.</p> - -<p>It was on my return to London, in March, 1951, that I saw the <i>première</i> -of the first of their new productions, <i>Pineapple Poll</i>, a ballet freely -adapted from the Bab Ballad, “The Bumbeat Woman’s Story,” by W. S. -Gilbert, with music by Arthur Sullivan, arranged by a young Australian, -Charles Mackerras, a conductor at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre. The -scenery and costumes were by Osbert Lancaster, noted architectural -historian and cartoonist, and the choreography by John Cranko, who had -worked in collaboration with Lancaster and Mackerras.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_300">{300}</a></span></p> - -<p>The work had its first performance at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre on the -13th March, 1951. The entire programme I saw that night was made up of -Cranko works, and I found myself seated before a quartet of works, -highly varied in content and style, all of which interested me, some, to -be sure, more than others. The evening commenced with Cranko’s <i>Sea -Change</i>. A tragic work in a free style, a character ballet whose story -was moving, but a ballet in which I never felt music and movement quite -came together. The score was the orchestral piece, <i>En Saga</i>, by Jan -Sibelius.</p> - -<p>The new work, <i>Pineapple Poll</i>, was the second ballet of the evening. I -was enchanted with it. I had always been a Sullivan admirer, and here -were pieces from nigh on to a dozen of the Sullivan operas, woven -together with great skill and brilliant orchestration into a marvelous -integral whole by Charles Mackerras, a complete score in itself, as if -it might have been directly composed for the ballet. I watched the -dancers closely, and it was impossible for me to imagine a finer -interpretation. Elaine Fifield, in the title role, was something more -than piquant; she was a genuine <i>ballerina</i>, with a fascinating sense of -character, her whole performance highly intelligent. There was no -“mugging,” no “cuteness”; on the contrary, there were both humor and -wit, and I noted she was a beautifully “clean” dancer. David Blair was a -compelling officer, and his “hornpipe” almost on points literally -brought the house down. Three other dancers impressed me: Sheillah -O’Reilly, Stella Claire and David Poole. Osbert Lancaster’s sets were -masterful, both as sets and as architecture. This, I decided, was a -Cranko masterpiece, and it impressed me in much the same way as some of -Massine’s gay ballets.</p> - -<p><i>Pineapple Poll</i> was followed by a delicate fantasy by Cranko, <i>Beauty -and the Beast</i>, an extended <i>pas de deux</i>, set to some of Ravel’s -<i>Mother Goose Suite</i>, and beautifully danced by Patricia Miller and -David Poole, who were, I learned, a pair of South Africans from the -Sadler’s Wells School.</p> - -<p>The closing piece on the programme was another new ballet by Cranko, -<i>Pastorale</i>, which had been given its first performance earlier in the -season, just before Christmas. It was the complete antithesis of the -Sullivan ballet. This was a Mozart work, his <i>Divertimento No. 2</i>, and -choreography was Mozartian in feeling. It was a work of genuine charm, -delicacy and real humor that revealed to me the excellence of a -half-dozen of the principals of the company: Elaine Fifield and Patricia -Miller, whom I have already mentioned, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_301">{301}</a></span> young Svetlana Beriosova, -the daughter of Nicholas Beriosoff, a former member of the Ballet Russe -de Monte Carlo. Svetlana was born in Lithuania in 1932, and had been -brought to America by her parents in 1940, when, off and on, she toured -with them in the days of my management of the Massine company, and -frequently appeared as the little child, Clara, in <i>The Nutcracker</i>. Now -rapidly maturing, she had been seen by Ninette de Valois in a small -English ballet company, and had been taken into the Sadler’s Wells -organization. The three ballerinas had an equal number of impressive -partners in <i>Pastorale</i>: Pirmin Trecu, David Poole and David Blair.</p> - -<p>I decided that <i>Pineapple Poll</i>, <i>Pastorale</i> and <i>Beauty and the Beast</i> -must be included in the repertoire for America, and that the first of -these could be a tremendous American success, a sort of British <i>Gaîté -Parisienne</i>.</p> - -<p>In further conversations and conferences, I pressed the matter of a -full-length, full-evening ballet. The work I wanted was Delibes’ -<i>Sylvia</i>. This is the famous ballet first given in Paris in 1876. I -recognised there would be problems to be solved over the story, but the -Delibes score is enchanting, delicate, essentially French; and is it not -the score which Tchaikowsky himself both admired and appreciated? -Moreover, a lot of the music is very well-known and loved.</p> - -<p>We agreed upon <i>Sylvia</i> in principle, but “Freddy” Ashton, who was to -stage it, was too occupied with other work, and it was at last agreed to -substitute a new production of Delibes’ <i>Coppélia</i>, in a full-length, -uncut version, never seen in North America except in a truncated form. -It was, however, difficult indeed to achieve any progress, since every -one was occupied with work of one kind or another, and continuously -busy. Moreover, Dame Ninette was away from London in Turkey and -Jugoslavia, lecturing, teaching, and checking on the national ballet -schools she has organized in each of those countries, at the request of -their respective governments, with the cooperation of the British -Council.</p> - -<p>It was not until three o’clock one morning several weeks later that we -all managed to get together at one time and place to have a conference -on repertoire. The following day I saw another performance at the Wells, -and was a bit distressed. It was clear to me that it was going to be -necessary to increase the size of the company still further, and also to -be more selective in the choice and arrangement of the repertoire.</p> - -<p>There followed a period of intense preparation on the part of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_302">{302}</a></span> the -entire organization, with all of its attendant helter-skelter, and with -day and night rehearsals. Meanwhile, I discussed and arranged for the -production of a two-act production or version of <i>The Nutcracker</i>. The -opening scene of this Tchaikowsky classic has always bothered me, -chiefly because I felt it was dull and felt that, during its course, -nothing really happened. There is, if the reader remembers, a rather -banal Christmas party at which little Clara receives a nutcracker as a -present, goes to bed without it, comes downstairs to retrieve it, and is -forthwith transported to fairyland. I felt we would be better off to -start with fairyland, and to omit the trying prologue. Moreover, I felt -certain the inclusion of the work in this form would give added weight -to the repertoire for the North American tour, since <i>The Nutcracker</i> -and Tchaikowsky are always well-liked and popular, as the box-office -returns have proven.</p> - -<p>On this visit I spent three weeks in London, flying back to New York -only to return to London three weeks later, to watch the company and to -do what I could to speed up the preparations so that the company might -be ready for the Canadian opening of the tour, the date of which was -coming closer and closer with that inevitability such matters display.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet and its entire organization showed -really tremendous energy and application, and did everything possible to -prepare themselves to follow the great American success of their sister -company, something that was, admittedly, a very difficult thing to do.</p> - -<p>Just before the company’s departure for the North American continent, it -gave a four-week “American Festival Season” at Sadler’s Wells, -consisting of the entire repertoire to be seen on this side of the -Atlantic. This season included another Cranko work I have not before -mentioned. It is <i>Harlequin in April</i>, a ballet commissioned for the -Festival of Britain by the Arts Council. While I cannot say that it is -the sort of piece that appeals to audiences by reason of its clarity, -there is no gainsaying that it is a major creation and a greatly to be -commended experiment, and, withal, a successful one. The choreographic -work of John Cranko, in collaboration with the composer, Richard Arnell, -and the artist-designer, John Piper, it was that much desired thing in -ballet: a genuine collaboration between those individuals responsible -for each aspect of it.</p> - -<p>Although there was no attempt to use it as a plot idea, for it is in no -sense a “literary” work, the idea for <i>Harlequin in April</i> pre<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_303">{303}</a></span>sumably -stemmed from the following lines from T. S. Eliot’s <i>The Waste Land</i>:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">April is the cruellest month, breeding<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Memory and desire, stirring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dull roots with spring rain....<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>I could not attempt to explain the work which, to me, consists solely of -atmosphere. I liked Richard Arnell’s score; but the ballet, as a ballet, -is one I found myself unable to watch very many times. Perhaps the -simplest answer is that it is not my favorite type of ballet. -Nevertheless, the fact remains it is a work of genuine distinction and -was warmly praised by discriminating critics.</p> - -<p>The first nights of the two classical works came a week apart. -<i>Coppélia</i> was the first, on the night of the 4th September. It was, -indeed, a fine addition to the repertoire. There were, in the Sadler’s -Wells tradition, several casts; the first performance had Elaine -Fifield, as Swanilda; David Blair, as Frantz; and David Poole, as -Coppelius.</p> - -<p>I was not too happy with the three settings designed by Loudon -Sainthill, the Australian designer who had a great success at the -Shakespeare Festival Theatre, always feeling they were not sufficiently -strong either in color or design. However, as the first full-length, -uncut version of the Delibes classic, it was notable, as it also was -notable for the liveliness of its entire production and the zest and joy -the entire company brought to it. Elaine Fifield was miraculously right -as Swanilda, in her own special piquant style; David Blair was a most -attractive Frantz; and David Poole was the first dignified Coppelius I -had ever seen, with a highly original approach to the character. -Alternate casts for <i>Coppélia</i> included Svetlana Beriosova as a quite -different and very effective Swanilda, and Maryon Lane, another South -African dancer of fine talent, with a personality quite different from -the other two, as were Donald Britton’s Frantz and Stanley Holden’s -Coppelius.</p> - -<p>The 11th of September revealed the new <i>Nutcracker</i> I have mentioned. -Actually, without the Prologue, it became a series of Tchaikowsky -<i>divertissements</i>, staged with skill and taste under, as it happened, -great pressure, by Frederick Ashton. It was a two-scene work, utilizing -the Snow Flake and the Kingdom of Sweets scenes. Outstanding, to my way -of thinking, were Beriosova as the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_304">{304}</a></span> Snow Queen; Fifield and Blair in the -grand <i>pas de deux</i>; Maryon Lane in the Waltz of the Flowers. The most -original divertissement was the <i>Danse Arabe</i>.</p> - -<p>Following the first performance of <i>The Nutcracker</i>, I gave a large -party in honor of both companies: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden -Company and that from the Sadler’s Wells Theatre, at Victory Hall.</p> - -<p>In this godspeed to the sister company, Margot Fonteyn was, as usual, -very much on the job, always the good colleague, wishing Fifield and -Beriosova the same success in the States and Canada as she and her -colleagues of the Covent Garden company had enjoyed. From Covent Garden -also came David Webster, Louis Yudkin, and Herbert Hughes, “Freddy” -Ashton, and Robert Irving, the genial and able musical director of the -Ballet at Covent Garden, all to speed the sister company on its way, to -give them tips on what to see, what to do, and also on what <i>not</i> to do.</p> - -<p>The reader will, I am sure, realize what a difficult thing it was for -the sister company to follow in the footsteps and the triumphant -successes of the company from Covent Garden. A standard of excellence -and grandeur had been set by them eclipsing any previously established -standards that had existed for ballet on the North American continent.</p> - -<p>It is a moot question just what the public and the press of America -expected from the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. For more than a year, -in all publicity and promotion, with all the means at our command, we -emphasized the differences between the two companies: in personnel, in -principal artists, in repertoire. We also carefully pointed out the -likenesses between them: the same base of operations, the same school, -the same direction, the same moving spirit, the same ideals, the same -purpose.</p> - -<p>The success of the company throughout the entire breadth of the United -States and Canada magnificently proved the wisdom of their coming. The -list of cities played is formidable: Quebec, Ottawa, Montreal, Toronto, -Buffalo, Rochester, Cleveland, Detroit, East Lansing, Grand Rapids, -Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Omaha, Des Moines, Denver, Salt Lake City, -Seattle, Portland, Vancouver, B.C., San Francisco, San José, Sacramento, -Fresno, Bakersfield, Los Angeles, San Antonio, Waco, Houston, Dallas, -Shreveport, Little Rock, Springfield, Mo., Kansas City, Chicago, St. -Louis, Nashville, Knoxville, Atlanta, Birmingham, Montgomery, New -Orleans, Day<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_305">{305}</a></span>tona Beach, Orlando, Miami, and Miami Beach, Columbia, -Greensboro, Durham, Raleigh, Norfolk, Richmond, Washington—where for -the first time ballet played in a proper theatre—Philadelphia, -Pittsburgh, Columbus, Toledo, Cincinnati, Indianapolis, Syracuse, Troy, -White Plains, Providence, Hartford, Boston, and New York City. Perhaps -the most characteristic tribute to the company came from Alfred -Frankenstein, the distinguished critic of the <i>San Francisco Chronicle</i>, -who wrote: “This may not be the largest ballet company in the world, but -it is certainly the most endearing.” There is no question that the -mounting demand for the quick return of the company on the part of local -managers and sponsoring organizations and groups throughout the country -is another proof of the warmth of their welcome when they next come.</p> - -<p>The musical side of the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet revealed the same -high standards of the organization, under the direction of that splendid -young British conductor, John Lanchbery. Lanchbery, a thorough and -distinguished musician, not only was a fine conductor, but an extremely -sensitive ballet conductor, which is not necessarily the same thing. So -admired was he by the orchestra that, in San Francisco, the players -presented him with a lovely gift in a token of appreciation.</p> - -<p>During the entire association with the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet -there was always the warm cooperation of George Chamberlain, and the -fine executive ability and personal charm of their tour manager, Douglas -Morris.</p> - -<p>It is my sincere hope that, following the season 1953-54, they will be -able to make an even more extended tour of this continent. By that time, -some of the company’s younger members will have become more mature, and -the repertoire will have been strengthened and increased by the -accretion of two years.</p> - -<p>There is the seemingly eternal charge against ballet dancers. They are -either “too young” or else “too old.” The question I am forced to ask in -this connection is: What is the appropriate age for the personnel of a -ballet company, for a dancer? My answer is one the reader may anticipate -from previous references to the subject in this book: Artistry knows and -recognizes no age on the stage. Spiritually the same is true in life -itself.</p> - -<p>It is, of course, possible that, by that time, there may be some who -will refrain from referring to the members of the company as “juniors,” -and will realize that they are aware of the facts of life.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_306">{306}</a></span> Three years -will have elapsed since their first visit. During all this time they -will have been dancing regularly five or six times a week; will have -behind them not only London successes, but their Edinburgh Festival and -African triumphs as well.</p> - -<p>At the close of the American Festival Season in Rosebery Avenue, the -company entrained for Liverpool, there to embark in the <i>Empress of -France</i>. It was a gay crossing, but less gay than had been anticipated. -Originally, the <i>Empress</i> was to have carried H.R.H. Princess Elizabeth, -and her husband, the Duke of Edinburgh, on their Royal Visit to the -Dominion of Canada. The ship’s owners, the Canadian Pacific Steamship -Company, had constructed a specially equipped theatre on the top deck, -where the company was to have given two performances for the Royal -couple. H.R.H., Princess Margaret is the Honorary President of the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet, and there is considerable royal interest -in ballet. Unfortunately, the serious illness of the King, and his -operation, necessitated a last moment change of plans on the part of -Princess Elizabeth and her husband, who made their crossing by plane. At -the last moment before sailing, the theatre was dismantled and removed.</p> - -<p>Two members of my staff made a long journey down the St. Lawrence, to -clamber aboard the <i>Empress</i> at daybreak and to travel up the river with -the company to Quebec, the opening point of the tour. I had gone on to -Quebec to greet them, as had our American staff and orchestra from New -York. This was the same orchestra, the “American Sadler’s Wells -Orchestra,” that had constituted the splendid musical side of the Covent -Garden company’s two American seasons. There was no cutting of corners, -no sparing of expense to maintain the same high standards of production. -For those with an interest in figures, it might be noted that the -orchestra alone cost in excess of $10,000 weekly.</p> - -<p>Heading the company, and remaining with it until it was well on its way, -were Dame Ninette de Valois and George Chamberlain, with Peggy van -Praagh as “Madame’s” assistant, and ballet-mistress for the entire tour.</p> - -<p>There were three days of concentrated rehearsal and preparation before -the first performance in Quebec. Some difficulties had to be overcome, -for Quebec City is not the ideal place for ballet production. Lacking a -real theatre or opera house, a cinema had to be utilized, a house with a -stage far from adequate for a theatre spec<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_307">{307}</a></span>tacle, an orchestra pit far -too small for an orchestra the size of ours, and cramped quarters all -around. Nevertheless, a genuine success was scored.</p> - -<p>Following the Quebec engagement, the company moved to Ottawa by special -train—this time the “Sadler’s Wells Theatre Special.” The night journey -to Ottawa provided many of the company with their first experience of -sleeping-car travel of the American-type Pullman. Passing through one of -the cars on the way to my drawing-room before the train pulled out, I -overheard one of the <i>corps de ballet</i> girls behind her green curtains, -obviously snuggling down for the night, sigh and say: “Oh, isn’t it just -lovely!... Just like in the films!”</p> - -<p>Ottawa was in its gayest attire, preparing for the Royal visit. The -atmosphere was festive. The Governor General and the Viscountess -Alexander of Tunis entertained the entire company at a reception at -Government House, flew afterwards to Montreal officially to welcome the -Royal couple, and flew back to attend the opening performance, as the -official representative of H.M. the King. Hundreds were turned away from -the Ottawa performances, and a particularly gay supper was given the -company after the final performance by the High Commissioner to Canada -for Great Britain, Sir Hugh and Lady Clutterbuck.</p> - -<p>Montreal, with its mixed French and English population, gave the company -a wholehearted acceptance and warm enthusiasm, by no means second to -that accorded the sister company.</p> - -<p>So the tour went, breaking box-office records for ballet in many cities, -including Buffalo, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Seattle, Portland, Vancouver -(where, for the eight performances, there was not a seat to be had four -weeks before the company’s arrival), Los Angeles, the entire state of -Florida, and Washington, where, as I have said, I had been successful in -securing a genuine theatre, Loew’s Capitol, and where, for the first -time ballet was seen by the inhabitants of our national capital with all -the theatrical appurtenances that ballet requires: scenery, lights, -atmosphere, instead of the mausoleum-like Constitution Hall, with its -bare platform backed only by a tapestry of the Founding Fathers.</p> - -<p>So the tour went for twenty-two weeks in a long, transcontinental -procession of cumulative success, with the finale in New York City. -Here, because of the unavailability of the Metropolitan Opera House, -since the current opera season had not been completed, it<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_308">{308}</a></span> was necessary -to go to a film house, the Warner Theatre, the former Strand, where -Fokine and Anatole Bourman had, in the early days of movie house -“presentations,” staged weekly ballet performances, sowing the seeds for -present-day ballet appreciation.</p> - -<p>The Warner Theatre was far from ideal for ballet presentation, being -much too long for its width, giving from the rear the effect of looking -at the stage through reversed opera glasses or binoculars. Also, from an -acoustical point of view, the house left something to be desired as it -affected the sound of the exceptionally large orchestra. But it was the -only nearly suitable house available, and Ninette de Valois, who had -returned to the States for the Boston engagement, and had remained -through the early New York performances, found no fault with the house.</p> - -<p>Among the many problems in connection with the presentation of ballet, -none is more ticklish than that of determining on an opening night -programme in any metropolitan center, particularly New York. Many -elements have to be weighed one against the other. Should the choice be -one of a selection of one-act ballets, there is the necessity for -balancing classical and modern and the order in which they should be -given, after they have actually been decided on. In the case of the -Sadler’s Wells companies, featuring, as they do, full-length works -occupying an entire evening in performance, there is the eternal -question: which one?</p> - -<p>The importance of the first impression created cannot be overrated. More -often than not, in arriving at a decision of this kind, we listen to the -advice of everyone in the organization. All suggestions are carefully -considered, and hours are spent in discussion and the exchange of ideas, -and the reasons supporting those ideas.</p> - -<p>What was good in London may quite well be fatal in New York. What New -York would find an ideal opening programme might be utterly wrong for -Chicago. San Francisco’s highly successful and popular opening night -programme well might turn out to be Los Angeles’ poison.</p> - -<p>Whatever the decision may be, it is always arrived at after long and -careful thought; and, when reached, it is the best product of many -minds. It usually turns out to be wrong.</p> - -<p>If, as is often the case, the second night’s programme turns out to be -another story, there is the almost inevitable query on the part of the -critics: “Why didn’t you do this last night?” Many of them seem to be -certain that there must have been personal reasons in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_309">{309}</a></span>volved in the -decision, some sort of private and individually colored favoritism being -exercised....</p> - -<p>I smile and agree.</p> - -<p>The only possible answer is: “You’re right.... I’m wrong.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_310">{310}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a id="c_13">Epilogue: Unborn Tomorrow<br /></a> -</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span><b>N</b> the minds of many I am almost always associated with ballet more -frequently than I am with any other activity in the world of -entertainment.</p> - -<p>This simply is not true.</p> - -<p>While it is true that more than thirty years of my life have been -intensely occupied with the presentation of dance on the North American -continent, these thirty-odd years of preoccupation with the dance have -neither narrowed my horizon nor limited my interests. I have -simultaneously carried on my avowed determination, arrived at and -clarified soon after I landed as an immigrant lad from Pogar: to bring -music to the masses. As an impresario I am devoted to my concert -artists.</p> - -<p>The greatest spiritual satisfaction I have had has always sprung from -great music, and it has been and is my joy to present great violinists, -pianists, vocalists; to extend the careers of conductors; to give -artists of the theatre a wider public. All these have been and are -leaders in their various fields. My eyes and ears are ever open to -discover fresh new talents in this garden for nurturing and development. -At no time in the history of so-called civilization and civilized man -have they been more necessary.</p> - -<p>Throughout my career my interests have embraced the lyric and -“legitimate” theatres: witness the Russian Opera Company, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_311">{311}</a></span> German -Opera Company, American operetta seasons, <i>revues</i> such as the Spanish -<i>Cablagata</i>, and Katherine Dunham’s Caribbean compilations, as but two -of many; the Habima Theatre, in 1926, the Moscow Art Players, under -Michael Tchekhoff, in 1935, as representative of the latter.</p> - -<p>These activities have been extended, with increasing interest towards a -widening of cultural exchanges with the rest of the world: witness the -most recent highly successful season of the Madeleine Renault-Jean Louis -Barrault repertory company from Paris. For two seasons, the -distinguished British actor, director, and playwright, Emlyn Williams, -under my management, has brought to life, from coast to coast, the -incomparable prose of Charles Dickens in theatrical presentations that -have fascinated both ear and eye, performances that stemmed from a rare -combination of talent, dexterity, love, and intelligence.</p> - -<p>I am able to say, very frankly, that I am one impresario who has managed -artists in all fields.</p> - -<p>All these things, and more, have been done. For what they are worth, -they have been written in the pages of the history of the arts in our -time. They have become a part of the record.</p> - -<p>So it will be seen that only one part of my life has been concerned with -ballet. To list all the fine concert artists and companies I have -managed and manage would take up too much space.</p> - -<p>It is quite within the bounds of possibility that I shall do a third -book, devoted to life among the concert artists I have managed. It -could, I am sure, make interesting reading.</p> - -<p>If art is to grow and prosper, if the eternal verities are to be -preserved in these our times and into that unborn tomorrow which springs -eternally from dead yesterdays, there must be no cessation of effort, no -diminution of our energies. Thirty-odd years of dead yesterdays have -served only to whet my appetite, to stimulate my eagerness for what lies -round the corner and my desire to increase my contribution to those -things that matter in the cultural and spiritual life of that unborn -tomorrow wherein lies our future.</p> - -<p>I shall try to outline some of the plans and hopes I have in mind. -Before I do so, however, I should like to make what must be, however -heartfelt, inadequate acknowledgement to those who have so generously -helped along the way. If I were to list all of them, this chapter would -become a catalogue of names. To all of those who are not mentioned, my -gratitude is none the less sincere and genuine.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_312">{312}</a></span> Above all, no slight is -intended. Space permits only the singling out of a few.</p> - -<p>The year in which these lines are written has been singularly rich, -rewarding, and happy: climaxed as it was by the production and release -of the motion-picture film, <i>Tonight We Sing</i>, based on some experiences -and aspects of my life. If the film does nothing else, I hope it -succeeds in underlining the difference, in explaining the vast gulf that -separates the mere booker or agent from what, for want of a better term, -must be called an impresario, since it is a word that has been fully -embraced into the English language. Impresario stems from the Italian -<i>impresa</i>: an undertaking; indirectly it gave birth to that now archaic -English word “emprise,” literally a chivalrous enterprise. I can only -regard the discovery, promotion, presentation of talent, the financing -of it, the risk-taking, as the “emprise” of an “impresario.”</p> - -<p>The presentation of this film has been accompanied by tributes and -honors for which I am deeply and humbly grateful and which I cherish and -respect beyond my ability to express.</p> - -<p>None of these heights could have been scaled, none of these successes -attained, without the help, encouragement, and personal sacrifice of my -beloved wife, Emma. Her wise counsel in music, literature, theatre, and -the dance all stem from her deep knowledge as a lady of culture, an -artist and a musician, and from her studies at the Leningrad -Conservatory, her rich experience in the world’s cultural activities. -Her sacrifices are those great ones of the patient, understanding wife, -who, through the years, has had to endure, and has endured without -complaint, the loneliness of days and nights on end alone, when my -activities have taken me on frequent long trips about the world at a -moment’s notice, to the complete disruption of any normal family life.</p> - -<p>To my wife also goes my grateful thanks for restraining me from -undertakings doomed in advance to failure, as well as for encouraging me -in my determination to venture into pastures new and untried.</p> - -<p>At the head of that staff of loyal associates which carries on the -multifarious details of the organization on which depends the -fulfillment of much of what has been recited in these pages, is one to -whom my deepest thanks are due. She is that faithful and indispensable -companion of failures and successes, Mae Frohman.</p> - -<p>She is known intimately to all in this world of music and dance.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_313">{313}</a></span> -Without her aid I could not have been what I am today. It is impossible -for me to give the reader any real idea of the sacrifices she has made -for the success of the enterprises this book records: the sleepless -nights and days; the readiness, at an instant’s notice, to depart for -any part of the world to “trouble-shoot,” to make arrangements, to -settle disputes, to keep the wheels in motion when matters have come to -a dead center.</p> - -<p>The devoted staff I have mentioned, and on whom I rely much more than -they realize, receives, as is its due, my deep gratitude and -appreciation. I cannot fail to thank my daughter Ruth for her -understanding, her sympathy, her spiritual support. With all the changes -in her personal life and with her own problems, there has never been a -word of complaint. Never has she added her hardships to mine. It has -been her invariable custom to present her happiest side to me: to -comfort, to understand. In her and my two lovely grandchildren, I find a -comfort not awarded every traveller through this tortuous vale, and I -want to extend my sincere gratitude to her.</p> - -<p>It would not be possible for any one to have attained these successes -without the very great help of others. In rendering my gratitude to my -staff, I must point out that this applies not only to those who are a -part of my organization as these lines are written, but to those who -have been associated with me in the past, in the long, upward struggle. -We are still friends, and my gratitude to them and my admiration for -them is unbounded.</p> - -<p>During the many years covered in this account, my old friend and -colleague, Marks Levine, and I have shared one roof businesswise, and -one world spiritually and artistically. Without his warm friendship, his -subtle understanding, his wholehearted cooperation, and his rare sense -of humor, together with the help of his colleagues, and that of O. O. -Bottorf and his colleagues, many of the successes of a lifetime might -not have been accomplished.</p> - -<p>At this point in my life, I look with amazement at the record of an -immigrant lad from Pogar, arriving here practically penniless, and ask -myself: where in the world could this have happened save here? My -profoundest thanks go to this adopted country which has done so much for -me. Daily I breathe the prayer: “God bless this country!”</p> - -<p>In all that has been done and accomplished, and with special reference -to all of these wide-flung ballet tours, none of it could have been done -singlehanded. In nearly every country and in nearly<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_314">{314}</a></span> every important -city there is a person who is materially responsible for the success of -the local engagement. Local engagements cumulatively make or break a -tour.</p> - -<p>This person is the local manager: that local resident who is often the -cultural mentor of the community of which he is an important member. It -is he who makes it possible for the members of his community to hear the -leading concert artists and musical organizations and to see and enjoy -ballet at its best. In these days of increasing encroachment on the part -of mechanical, push-button entertainment, it is the local manager to -whom the public must look for the preservation of the “live” culture: -the singer, the instrumentalist, the actor, the dancer, the painter, the -orchestra.</p> - -<p>In the early days of my managerial activities, when I did not have an -office of my own, merely desk space in the corner of a room in the -Chandler Building, in West Forty-Second Street, I shall never forget the -“daddy” of all the local managers, the late L. H. Behymer, of Los -Angeles, who traveled three thousand miles just to see what sort of -creature it was, this youngster who was bringing music to the masses at -the old New York Hippodrome. A life-long bond was formed between us, and -“Bee” and his hard-working wife, throughout their long and honorable -careers as purveyors of the finest in musical and dance art to the -Southwest, remained my loyal and devoted friends.</p> - -<p>This applies equally to all those workers in the vineyard, from East to -West, from North to South, in Europe and South America. It is the -friendly, personal cooperation of the local managers that helps make it -possible to present so successfully artists and companies across the -continent and the world we know. It is my very great pleasure each year, -at the close of their annual meetings in New York, to meet them, rub -shoulders, clasp hands, and discuss mutual problems.</p> - -<p>The music and ballet lovers of the United States and Canada owe these -people a debt; and when readers across the breadth of this great -continent watch these folk—men and women, often helped out by their -wives, their husbands, their children, striving to provide the finest -available in the music and dance arts for their respective -communities—do not imagine that they are necessarily accumulating -wealth by their activities. More often than not, they work late and long -for an idea and an ideal for very little material gain.</p> - -<p>Remember, if you will, that it is the industrious and enlightened<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_315">{315}</a></span> local -manager, the college dean, the theatre manager, the public-spirited -women’s clubs and philanthropic organizations that make your music and -dance possible.</p> - -<p>In the arts as in life, amidst the blaze of noon there are watchers for -the dawn, awaiting the unborn tomorrow. I am of them. This book may, -conceivably, have something of historical value in portraying events and -persons, things and colleagues who have been, at one and the same time, -motivating factors in the development and growth and appreciation of the -dance in our sector of the western world. Though it has dealt, for the -most part, with an era that is receding, I have tried not to look back -either with nostalgia or regret. At the same time, I have tried not to -view the era through rosy spectacles. As for tomorrow, I am optimistic. -Without an ingrained and deeply rooted optimism much of what this book -records could not have come to pass. Despite the lucubrations of certain -Cassandras, I find myself unable to share their pessimism for the fate -of culture in our troubled times. We shall have our ups and downs, as we -have had throughout the history of man.</p> - -<p>I hold stubbornly to the tenet that man cannot live by bread alone, and -that those things of the spirit, those joys that delight the heart and -mind and soul of man, are indestructible. On the other hand, it is by no -means an easy trick to preserve them. While I agree with Ecclesiastes -that “the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart -of fools is in the house of mirth,” I nevertheless insist that it is the -supreme task of those who would profess or attain unto wisdom to exert -their last ounce of strength to foster, preserve, and encourage the -widest possible dissemination of the cultural heritage we possess.</p> - -<p>As these closing pages are written, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet from the -Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, is poised on the threshold of its -third North American visit, with a larger company and a more varied -repertoire than ever before. The latter, in addition to works I have -noted in these pages, includes the new Coronation ballet, <i>Homage to the -Queen</i>, staged by Frederick Ashton, to a specially commissioned score by -the young English composer, Malcolm Arnold, with setting and costumes by -Oliver Messel; <i>The Shadow</i>, with choreography by John Cranko, scenery -and costumes by John Piper, and the music is Erno von Dohnanyi’s <i>Suite -in F Sharp Minor</i>, which had its first performance at the Royal Opera -House, Covent Garden, on 3rd March, 1953. Included, of course, is<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_316">{316}</a></span> the -new full-length production of <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i>, with an entirely new -production by Leslie Hurry; <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>; <i>Sylvia</i>; <i>Giselle</i>, -in an entirely new setting by James Bailey; <i>Les Patineurs</i>; a revival -of Ashton’s <i>Don Juan</i>; and Ravel’s <i>Daphnis and Chloe</i>, staged by -Ashton, making use of the full choral score for the first time in ballet -in America.</p> - -<p>Yet another impending dance venture and yet an additional aspect of -dance pioneering will be the first trans-continental tour of the Agnes -de Mille Dance Theatre. This is a project that has been in my mind for -more than a decade: the creation of an American dance theatre, with this -country’s most outstanding dance director at its head. For years I have -been an admirer of Agnes de Mille and the work she has done for ballet -in America, and for the native dance and dancer. In this, as in all my -activities, I have not solicited funds nor sought investors.</p> - -<p>It is the first major organization to be established completely under my -aegis, for which I have taken sole responsibility, financially and -productionwise. It has long been my dream to form a veritable American -dance company, one which could exhibit the qualities which make our -native dancers unique: joy in sheer movement, wit, exuberance, a sharp -sense of drama.</p> - -<p>It was in 1948 that Agnes and I began the long series of discussions -directed toward the creation of a completely new and “different” -company, one that would place equal accents on “Dance” and “Theatre.”</p> - -<p>For the new company Agnes has devised a repertoire ranging from the -story of an Eighteenth-Century philanderer through Degas-inspired -comments on the Romantic Era, to scenes from <i>Paint Your Wagon</i>, and -<i>Brigadoon</i>. Utilizing spoken dialogue and song, the whole venture moves -towards something new under the sun—both in Dance and in Theatre.</p> - -<p>The settings and costumes have been designed and created by Peggy Clark -and Motley; with the orchestrations and musical arrangements by Trudi -Rittman.</p> - -<p>With the new organization, Agnes will have freedom to experiment in what -may well turn out to be a new form of dance entertainment, setting a -group of theatre dances both balletic and otherwise, with her own -personalized type of dance movement, and a group of ballad singers, all -in a distinctly native idiom.</p> - -<p>In New York City, on the 15th January, 1954, I plan to inaugu<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_317">{317}</a></span>rate a -trans-continental tour of the Roland Petit Ballet Company, from Paris, -with new creations, and the quite extraordinary Colette Marchand, as his -chief <i>ballerina</i>.</p> - -<p>In February, 1954, I shall extend my international dance activities to -Japan, when I shall bring that nation’s leading dance organization, the -Japanese Dancers and Musicians, for their first American tour. With this -fine group of artists, I shall be able to present America for the first -time with a native art product of the late Seventeenth century that is -the theatre of the commoner, stemming from Kabuki, meaning -“song-dance-skill.”</p> - -<p>The autumn of 1954 will see a still further extension of my activities, -with the introduction of the first full Spanish ballet to be seen on the -North American continent.</p> - -<p>We have long been accustomed to the Spanish dancer and the dance -concerts of distinguished Iberian artists; but never before have -Americans been exposed to Spanish ballet in its full panoply, with a -large and numerous company, complete with scenery, costumes, and a large -orchestra. It has long been my dream to present such an organization.</p> - -<p>At last it has been realized, when I shall send from coast to coast the -Antonio Ballet Espagnol, which I saw and greatly admired on my visit to -Granada in the summer of 1953.</p> - -<p>On the purely musical side, there is a truly remarkable chamber ensemble -from Italy, which will also highlight the season of 1954. It is I -Musici, an ensemble of twelve players, ranging through the string -family, including the ancient <i>viola di gamba</i>, and sustained by the -<i>cymbalon</i>; and specializing in early Italian music, for the greater -part. This organization has the high and warm recommendation of Arturo -Toscanini, who vastly admires them and their work.</p> - -<p>I have reserved, in the manner of the host holding back the most -delectable items of a feast until the last, two announcements as -climactic.</p> - -<p>I have concluded arrangements with England’s Old Vic to present on the -North American continent their superlative new production of -Shakespeare’s <i>A Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>, staged by Michael Benthall, -with really magnificent settings and costumes by James Bailey.</p> - -<p>The cast will include Robert Helpmann, as Oberon, and Moira Shearer, as -Titania, with outstanding and distinguished British actors in the other -roles; and, utilizing the full Mendelssohn score, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_318">{318}</a></span> production will -have a ballet of forty, choreographed by Robert Helpmann.</p> - -<p>The production will be seen at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, -in mid-September, 1954, for a season, to be followed by a short tour of -the leading cities of the United States and Canada.</p> - -<p>This will, I feel, be one of the most significant artistic productions -to be revealed across the continent since the days of Max Reinhardt’s -<i>The Miracle</i>. It gives me great personal satisfaction to be able to -offer this first of the new productions of London’s famous Old Vic.</p> - -<p>The other choice tid-bit to which I feel American dance lovers will look -forward with keen anticipation is the coast-to-coast tour of London’s -Festival Ballet with Toumanova as guest star.</p> - -<p>The Festival Ballet was founded by Anton Dolin for the British Festival, -under the immediate patronage of H.H. Princess Marie Louise. Dr. Julian -Braunsweg is its managing director.</p> - -<p>It has grown steadily in stature and is today one of Europe’s best known -ballet companies. Under the artistic direction of Anton Dolin it has -appeared with marked success for several seasons at the Royal Festival -Hall, London; has toured Britain, all western Europe; and, in the spring -of 1953, gave a highly successful two weeks’ season in Montreal and -Toronto, where it received as high critical approval as ever accorded -any ballet company in Canada.</p> - -<p>There is a company of eighty, and a repertoire of evenly balanced -classics and modern creations, including, among others, the following: a -full-length <i>Nutcracker</i>, <i>Giselle</i>, <i>Petrouchka</i>, <i>Swan Lake</i>, (<i>Act -I</i>), <i>Le Beau Danube</i>, <i>Schéhérazade</i>, <i>Symphonic Impressions</i>, <i>Pas de -Quatre</i>, <i>Bolero</i>, <i>Black Swan</i>, <i>Vision of Marguerite</i>, <i>Symphony for -Fun</i>, <i>Pantomime Harlequinade</i>, <i>Don Quixote</i>, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Le -Spectre de la Rose</i>, <i>Prince Igor</i>, <i>Concerto Grosso</i>.</p> - -<p>This international exchange of ballet companies is one of the bulwarks -of mutual understanding and sympathy. It is a source of deep -gratification to me that I have been instrumental in bringing the -companies of the Sadler’s Wells organization, the Ballet of the Paris -Opera, and others to North America, as it is that I have been able to be -of service in arranging for the two visits of the New York City Ballet -to London. It is through the medium of such exchanges, presenting no -language barriers, but offering beauty as a common bond, that we are -able to bridge those hideous chasms so often<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_319">{319}</a></span> caused by misunderstood -and, too often, unwise and thoughtlessly chosen words.</p> - -<p>In unborn tomorrows I hope to extend these exchanges to include not only -Europe, but our sister republics to the South, and the Far East, with -whom now, more than ever, cultural rapport is necessary. We are now -reaching a time in America when artistic achievement has become -something more than casual entertainment, although, in my opinion, -artistic endeavor must never lose sight of the fact that entertainment -there must be if that public so necessary to the well-being of any art -is not to be alienated. The role of art and the artist is, through -entertainment, to stimulate and, through the creative spirit, to help -the audience renew its faith and courage in beauty, in universal ideals, -in love, in a richer and fuller imaginative life. Then, and only then, -can the audience rise above the mundane, the mediocre, the monotonous.</p> - -<p>During the thirty-odd years I have labored on the American musical and -balletic scene, I have seen a growth of interest and appreciation that -has been little short of phenomenal. Yet I note, with deep regret, that -today the insecurities of living for art and the artist have by no means -lessened. Truth hinges solely on the harvest, and how may that harvest -be garnered with no security and no roof?</p> - -<p>More than once in the pages of this book I have underlined and lamented -the passing of the great, generous Maecenas, the disappearance, through -causes that require no reiteration, of such figures as Otto H. Kahn, -whose open-hearted and open-pursed generosity contributed so inestimably -to the lyric and balletic art of dead yesterday. I have detailed at some -length the government support provided for the arts by our financially -less fortunate cousins of Great Britain, South America, and Europe. The -list of European countries favoring the arts could be extended into a -lengthy catalogue of nations ranging from Scandinavia to the -Mediterranean, on both sides of that unhappy screen, the “Iron Curtain.”</p> - -<p>Here in the United States, the situation becomes steadily grimmer. -Almost every artistic enterprise worth its salt and scene painter, its -bread and choreographer, its meat and conductor, is in the perpetual -necessity of sitting on the pavement against the wall, hat in hand, -chanting the pitiful wail: “Alms, for the love of Art.” Vast quantities -of words are uttered, copious tears of regret are shed about and over -this condition at art forums, expensive cocktail parties,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_320">{320}</a></span> and on the -high stools of soda fountains. A great deal is said, but very little is -done.</p> - -<p>The answer, in my opinion, will not be found until the little voices of -the soda fountain, the forums, the cocktail parties, unite into one -superbly unanimous chorus and demand a government subsidy for the arts. -I am not so foolish as to insist that government subsidy is the complete -and final cure for all the ills to which the delicate body is heir; but -it can provide, in a great national theatre, a roof for the creative and -performing artists of ballet, opera, theatre, and music. More than -anything else, the American ballet artist needs a roof, under which to -live, to create, and hold his being in security. Such a step would be -the only positive one in the right direction.</p> - -<p>It is only through governmentally subsidized theatres, or one type of -subsidy or another, that ballet, opera, music, the legitimate theatre -may become a living and vital force in the everyday life of the American -people, may belong to the masses, instead of being merely a place of -entertainment for a relatively small section of our population. We have -before us the example of the success of government subsidy in the -British Arts Council and in the subsidized theatres of other European -countries. How can we profit by these examples?</p> - -<p>A national opera house is the first step. Such a house should not, in my -opinion, be in New York. It should, because of the size of the country, -be much more centrally situated than in our Eastern metropolis. Since -the area of Great Britain is so much smaller than the United States, our -planning of government subsidy would, of necessity, be on a much larger -scale. In many of the countries where ballet and music have the benefit -of government subsidy, government ownership of industry is an accepted -practice. Yet the government theatre subsidy is managed without stifling -private enterprise.</p> - -<p>I am quite aware that securing a national subsidy for the arts in this -country will be a long, difficult and painful process. It will require, -before all else, a campaign of education. We must have an increasing -world-consciousness, a better understanding of our fellow humans. We -must develop a nation of well-educated and, above all, thinking people, -who will do everything in their power to make a full-rounded life -available to every man and woman in the nation.</p> - -<p>Only during the days of the WPA, in the ’30’s, has the United States -government ever evinced any particular interest in the arts. I cannot -hope that the present materialistic attitude of our law<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_321">{321}</a></span>makers will -cause them to look with much favor on things of the spirit. The attitude -of our government towards the arts is noteworthy only for its complete -lack of interest in them or care for them. In the arts, and notably in -the ballet, it has the most formidable means and potential material for -cultural propaganda. The stubbornness with which it insists upon -ignoring the only aspect of American cultural life that would really -impress and influence Europe is something that is, to me, incredible. It -is a rather sad picture. How long will it take us in our educational -process to understand that in the unborn tomorrow we, as a nation, will -be remembered only through our art rather than through our materialism -and our gadgets?</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, excellent and highly valuable assistance is being given by -such Foundations as the Ford Foundation and the Rockefeller Foundation. -The latter’s contribution to the New York City Center has been of -inestimable help to that organization.</p> - -<p>Certain municipalities, through such groups as the San Francisco Art -Commission, financed on the basis of four mills on the dollar from the -city tax revenues, the Art Commission of the County of Los Angeles, the -City of Philadelphia, among others, are making generous and valuable -contributions to the musical and artistic life of their communities.</p> - -<p>There are still to be mentioned those loyal and generous friends of the -arts who have contributed so splendidly to the appeals of orchestras -throughout the country, of the Metropolitan Opera Company, and the New -York City Center.</p> - -<p>But this, I fear, is not enough. The genuinely unfortunate aspect of the -overall situation is that we are so pitifully unable to supply an outlet -for our own extraordinary talent. For example, at an audition I attended -in Milan, out of the twenty-eight singers heard, sixteen of them were -Americans. This is but further evidence that our American talent is -still forced to go to Europe to expand, to develop, and to exhibit their -talents; in short, to get a hearing.</p> - -<p>In Italy today, with a population of approximately 48,000,000, there are -now some seventy-two full-fledged opera companies.</p> - -<p>In pre-war Germany with an approximate population of 70,000,000, there -were one hundred forty-two opera houses, all either municipally or -nationally subsidized.</p> - -<p>Any plan for government subsidy of the arts must be a carefully thought -out and extensive one. It should start with a roof, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_322">{322}</a></span>beginning slowly -and expanding gradually, until, from beneath that roof-tree, companies -and organizations would deploy throughout the entire country and, -eventually, the world. Eventually, in addition to ballet, music, opera, -and theatre, it should embrace all the creative arts. Education in the -arts must be included in the subsidization, so that the teacher, the -instructor, the professor may be regarded as equal in importance to -doctors, lawyers, engineers, and politicians, instead of being regarded -as failures, as they so often regrettably are.</p> - -<p>Until the unborn tomorrow dawns when we can find leaders whose -understanding of these things is not drowned out by the thunder of -material prosperity and the noise of jostling humanity, leaders with the -vision and the foresight to see the benefit to the country and the world -from this kind of thing, and who, in addition to understanding and -knowing these things, possess the necessary courage and the -indispensable stamina to see things through, we shall have to continue -to fight the fight, to grasp any friendly hand, and, I fear, continue to -watch the sorry spectacle of the arts squatting in the market-place, -basket in lap, begging for alms for beauty.</p> - -<p>So long as I am spared, I shall never cease to present the best in all -the arts, so that the great public may have them to enjoy and cherish; -so that the artists may be helped to attain some degree of that security -they so richly deserve, against that day when an enlightened nation can -provide them a home and the security that goes with it.</p> - -<p>With all those who are of it, and all those whose lives are made a -little less onerous, a little more tolerable, to whom it brings glimpses -of a brighter unborn tomorrow, I repeat my united hurrah: Three Cheers -for Good Ballet!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_323">{323}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</h2> -<hr class="lrt1" /> - -<p class="c"><a href="#A">A</a>, -<a href="#B">B</a>, -<a href="#C">C</a>, -<a href="#D">D</a>, -<a href="#E">E</a>, -<a href="#F">F</a>, -<a href="#G">G</a>, -<a href="#H">H</a>, -<a href="#I">I</a>, -<a href="#J">J</a>, -<a href="#K">K</a>, -<a href="#L">L</a>, -<a href="#M">M</a>, -<a href="#N">N</a>, -<a href="#O">O</a>, -<a href="#P">P</a>, -<a href="#Q">Q</a>, -<a href="#R">R</a>, -<a href="#S">S</a>, -<a href="#T">T</a>, -<a href="#U">U</a>, -<a href="#V">V</a>, -<a href="#W">W</a>, -<a href="#Y">Y</a>, -<a href="#Z">Z</a></p> - -<p class="nind"> -<a id="A"></a>Abbey Theatre (Dublin), <a href="#page_217">217</a><br /> - -Academy of Music (Brooklyn), <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Adam, Adolphe, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -Adelphi Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -<i>Aglae or The Pupil of Love</i>, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Aldrich, Richard, <a href="#page_23">23</a><br /> - -<i>Alegrias</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -<i>Aleko</i>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Alexander of Tunis, Viscount and Viscountess, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> - -Alhambra Theatre (London), <a href="#page_111">111</a><br /> - -<i>Alice in Wonderland</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Alicia Markova, Her Life and Art</i>, <a href="#page_205">205</a><br /> - -All Star Imperial Russian Ballet, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Alonso, Alicia, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<i>Ambassador</i> (a publication), <a href="#page_231">231</a><br /> - -Ambassador Hotel (Los Angeles), <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Amberg, George, <a href="#page_112">112</a><br /> - -American Ballet, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -American Federation of Musicians, <a href="#page_62">62</a><br /> - -<i>Amoun and Berenice</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -André, Grand Duke of Russia, <a href="#page_69">69</a><br /> - -Andreu, Mariano, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Andreyev, Leonide, <a href="#page_285">285</a><br /> - -<i>Antic, The</i>, <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -<i>Antiche Danze ed Arie</i>, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Antonio Ballet Espagnol, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -<i>Aphrodite</i>, <a href="#page_93">93</a><br /> - -<i>Apollon Musagète</i>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Apparitions</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -<i>Apres-Midi d’un Faune, L’</i> (<i>Afternoon of a Faun</i>), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a><br /> - -Arbeau, Thoinot, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Archives Internationales de la Danse, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Arensky, Anton, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Argentina, <a href="#page_47">47</a><br /> - -Argentinita (Encarnacion Lopez), <a href="#page_53">53-58</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Argyle, Pearl, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -Armstrong, John, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -Arnell, Richard, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Arnold, Malcolm, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Art Commission of the County of Los Angeles, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -Asafieff, Boris, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Ashcroft, Peggy, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -Ashton, Frederick, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_268">268-272</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Astafieva, Seraphine, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Atlee, Clement, <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> - -<i>Aubade</i>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>Aubade Heroique</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -<i>Assembly Ball</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Auber, Francois, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Auditorium Theatre (Chicago), <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> - -Auric, Georges, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Aurora’s Wedding</i>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Avril Kentridge Medal, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -Aveline, Albert, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Azayae</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="B"></a>Bacchanale</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Bach, Johann Sebastian, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -<i>Bahiana</i>, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Bailey, James, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -<i>Baiser de la Fée</i> (<i>The Fairy’s Kiss</i>), <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Bakst, Leon, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a><br /> - -<i>Bal, Le</i> (<i>The Ball</i>), <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Balabile</i>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Balakireff, Mily, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Balanchine, George (Georgi Balanchivadze), <a href="#page_65">65</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Baldina, Maria, <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -Balieff, Nikita, <a href="#page_49">49</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a><br /> - -Ballet and Opera Russe de Paris, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> - -Ballet Associates in America, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Ballet Benevolent Fund, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> - -Ballet Club (London), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Ballet Go-Round</i>, <a href="#page_205">205</a><br /> - -<i>Ballet Imperial</i>, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -Ballet Intime, <a href="#page_90">90</a><br /> - -<i>Ballet Mecanique</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Ballet Rambert, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo (special reference; de Basil), <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a><br /> - -Ballets 1933, Les, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -Ballet Theatre Foundation, <a href="#page_179">179</a><br /> - -Ballet Theatre (known in Europe as “American National Ballet Theatre”), <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>, <a href="#page_147">147-182</a>, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -<i>Balustrade</i>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Bandbox Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -Banks, Margaret, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -<i>Barbara</i>, <a href="#page_50">50</a><br /> - -Barbiroli, Sir John, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -Bardin, Micheline, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Baronova, Irina, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Barrault, Jean Louis, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -<i>Barrelhouse</i>, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Barrientos, Maria, <a href="#page_95">95</a><br /> - -Bartok, Bela, <a href="#page_175">175</a><br /> - -Baylis, Lilian, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Beaton, Cecil, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Beau Danube, Le</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Beaumont, Count Etienne de, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Beauty and the Beast</i>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -Beecham, Sir Thomas, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> - -Beethoven, Ludwig von, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_30">30</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Begitchev, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Behymer, Mr. and Mrs. L. H., <a href="#page_314">314</a><br /> - -Belasco, David, <a href="#page_97">97</a><br /> - -<i>Belle Hélene, La</i>, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Belle, James Cleveland, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a><br /> - -Bellini, Vincenzo, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Belmont, Mrs. August, <a href="#page_230">230</a><br /> - -<i>Beloved One, The</i>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Benavente, Jacinto, <a href="#page_57">57</a><br /> - -Bennett, Robert Russell, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Benois, Alexandre, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a><br /> - -Benois, Nadia, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Benthall, Michael, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Bérard, Christian, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Berlioz, Hector, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -Beriosoff, Nicholas, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -Beriosova, Svetlana, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Berman, Eugene, <a href="#page_137">137</a><br /> - -Berners, Lord, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Bernhardt, Sarah, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Bernstein, Leonard, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Bielsky, V., <a href="#page_95">95</a><br /> - -<i>Billy Budd</i>, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -<i>Billy the Kid</i>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Bizet, Georges, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -<i>Black Ritual</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Black Swan</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Blair, David, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Blake, William, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a><br /> - -Blareau, Richard, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Bliss, Sir Arthur, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> - -Bloch, Mrs. (Manager Loie Fuller), <a href="#page_37">37</a>, <a href="#page_38">38</a>, <a href="#page_39">39</a><br /> - -<i>Blonde Marie</i>, The, <a href="#page_50">50</a><br /> - -Blot, Robert, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Bluebeard</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a><br /> - -Blum, Léon, <a href="#page_108">108</a><br /> - -Blum, René, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a><br /> - -Boccherini, Luigi, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Bogatyri</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Bolero</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Bolm, Adolph, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_88">88-91</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a><br /> - -Bolshoi Theatre (Moscow), <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Boosey and Hawkes, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a><br /> - -Boretzky-Kasadevich, Vadim, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -Borodin, Alexander, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Borodin, George, <a href="#page_230">230</a><br /> - -Boston Opera House, <a href="#page_260">260</a><br /> - -Boston Public Library, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Boston Symphony Orchestra, <a href="#page_166">166</a><br /> - -Bottord, O. O., <a href="#page_313">313</a><br /> - -Bouchene, Dmitri, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Bouchenet, Mme., <a href="#page_196">196</a><br /> - -Boult, Sir Adrian, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -<i>Bourgeois Gentilhomme, Le</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Bourman, Anatole, <a href="#page_308">308</a><br /> - -<i>Boutique Fantasque, La</i>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Bowman, Patricia, <a href="#page_147">147</a><br /> - -Boyce, William, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Boyd Neel String Orchestra, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -Boyer, Lucienne, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Bozzini, Max, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Brae, June, <a href="#page_241">241</a><br /> - -Brahms, Johannes, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Braunsweg, Julian, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Breinin, Raymond, <a href="#page_162">162</a><br /> - -<i>Brigadoon</i>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -British Arts Council, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_287">287</a>, <a href="#page_288">288</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_320">320</a><br /> - -British Broadcasting Corporation, <a href="#page_227">227</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a><br /> - -British Council, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -British Film Institute, <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> - -British Ministry of Information, <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -Britten, Benjamin, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -Britton, Donald, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Brown, John, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Bruce, Henry, <a href="#page_73">73</a><br /> - -<i>Bulerias</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a><br /> - -Bulgakoff, Alexander, <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -<i>Burleske</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Burra, Edward, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Butsova, Hilda, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="C"></a>Cabin in the Sky</i>, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -<i>Cablagata</i>, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Cadogan, Sir Alexander, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -<i>Cain and Abel</i>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Cachucha</i>, <a href="#page_18">18</a><br /> - -<i>Camille</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Carib Song</i> (<i>Caribbean Rhapsody</i>), <a href="#page_63">63</a><br /> - -Carmela, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -<i>Carmen</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Carmita, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -<i>Carnaval</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Camargo Society (London), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -<i>Capriccio Espagnol</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Capriccioso</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Capriol Suite</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Carnegie Hall (New York), <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Caruso, Enrico, <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a><br /> - -Cassandre, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Castellanos, Julio, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Chagall, Marc, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Castle Garden (New York), <a href="#page_16">16</a><br /> - -<i>Castor and Pollux</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Caton, Edward, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Caucasian Dances</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Caucasian Sketches</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Cecchetti, Enrico, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Celli, Vincenzo, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -C. E. M. A., <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -<i>Cendrillon</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Center Theater (New York), <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a><br /> - -Century of Progress Exhibition, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Century Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_93">93</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a><br /> - -Chabrier, Emanuel, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Chaliapine, Feodor, <a href="#page_17">17</a>, <a href="#page_25">25</a>, <a href="#page_26">26</a>, <a href="#page_27">27</a>, <a href="#page_242">242</a><br /> - -Chaliapine, Lydia, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Chaliapine, “Masha,” <a href="#page_26">26</a>, <a href="#page_27">27</a><br /> - -Chamberlain, George, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_305">305</a>, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> - -<i>Chansons Populaires</i>, <a href="#page_55">55</a><br /> - -Chaplin, Charles, <a href="#page_50">50</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Chappell, William, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Charisse, Cyd, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -<i>Chauve Souris</i>, <a href="#page_211">211</a><br /> - -Chase, Lucia, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_179">179</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>, <a href="#page_182">182</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a><br /> - -Chase, William (“Bill”), <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a><br /> - -<i>Cimarosiana</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Charnley, Michael, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Chateau Frontenac (Quebec), <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a><br /> - -<i>Chatte, La</i>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -Chauviré, Yvette, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Checkmate</i>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> - -Chesterton, G. K., <a href="#page_275">275</a><br /> - -Chicago Allied Arts, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a><br /> - -Chicago Civic Opera Company, <a href="#page_86">86</a><br /> - -Chicago <i>Daily News</i>, <a href="#page_185">185</a><br /> - -Chicago Opera Company, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a><br /> - -Chicago Opera House, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a><br /> - -Chicago Public Library, <a href="#page_286">286</a><br /> - -Chirico, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Chopin, Frederic, <a href="#page_97">97</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Choreartium</i>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Christ’s Hospital (London), <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -<i>Christmas</i>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Church of St. Bartholomew the Great (London), <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -Church of St. Martin’s in-the-Fields (London), <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -Churchill, John, <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -Churchill, Sir Winston, <a href="#page_275">275</a><br /> - -<i>Cinderella</i>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a><br /> - -City of Philadelphia, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -Claire, Stella, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Clark, Peggy, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Clustine, Ivan, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_24">24</a><br /> - -Clutterbuck, Sir Hugh and Lady, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> - -<i>Cléopatre</i> <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Cleveland Institute, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Cobos, Antonio, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Colon Theatre (Buenos Aires), <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Colonel de Basil’s Ballet Russe, <a href="#page_116">116</a><br /> - -Colt, Alvin, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Comus</i>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -<i>Concerto for Orchestra</i>, <a href="#page_175">175</a><br /> - -<i>Concerto Grosso</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Concurrence, La</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Condon, Natalia, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Conrad, Karen, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<i>Constantia</i>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Constitution Hall (Washington, D.C.), <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> - -Continental Revue, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Copeland, George, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> - -Copland, Aaron, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Copley, Richard, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -Copley-Plaza Hotel (Boston), <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>Coppélia</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -<i>Coq d’Or, Le</i>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> - -Coralli, Jean, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -<i>Cotillon, Le</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Counterfeiters, The</i>, <a href="#page_115">115</a><br /> - -Council for the Education of H. M. Forces, <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -Cotten, Joseph, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Covent Garden Ballet Russe, <a href="#page_116">116</a><br /> - -Covent Garden Opera Company, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a><br /> - -Covent Garden Opera Syndicate, <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> - -Covent Garden Opera Trust, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Coward, Noel, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -<i>Cracovienne, La</i>, <a href="#page_18">18</a><br /> - -Craig, Gordon, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_36">36</a><br /> - -Cranko, John, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Cravath, Paul D., <a href="#page_112">112</a><br /> - -<i>Creation du Monde, La</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Cripps, Sir Stafford, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -Crowninshield, Frank, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -<i>Crystal Palace</i>, The, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="D"></a>Dagestanskaya Lesginka</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -<i>Daily Telegraph</i> (London), <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -Dalcroze, Jacques, <a href="#page_39">39</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_288">288</a><br /> - -Dali, Salvador, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Damnation of Faust, The</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Damrosch, Walter, <a href="#page_31">31</a><br /> - -<i>Dancing Times</i> (London), <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -Dandré, Victor, <a href="#page_24">24</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Danilova, Alexandra, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -<i>Dance of the Sylphs</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Danse de Feu</i>, <a href="#page_38">38</a><br /> - -<i>Danse, La</i>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -<i>Danses Sacré et Profane</i>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -<i>Danses Slaves et Tsiganes</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Danses Tziganes</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Dante Sonata</i>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Danton, Henry, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -<i>Daphnis and Chloe</i>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -<i>D’après une lecture de Dante</i>, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Dargomijsky, Alexander, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Dark Elegies</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Darrington Hall, <a href="#page_52">52</a><br /> - -<i>Daughter of Pharaoh</i>, <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -<i>Day in a Southern Port, A</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -<i>Days of Glory</i>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Death and the Maiden</i>, <a href="#page_171">171</a><br /> - -<i>Deaths and Entrances</i>, <a href="#page_65">65</a><br /> - -de Basil, Colonel W., <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a>, <a href="#page_289">289</a><br /> - -Debussy, Claude, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -de Cuevas, Marquessa, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> - -de Cuevas, Marquis Georges, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a><br /> - -Degas, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -de la Fontaine, Jean, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Delarova, Eugenia, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -De La Warr, Lord, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -Delibes, Léo, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Delius, Frederick, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -dello Joio, Norman, <a href="#page_164">164</a><br /> - -de Maré, Rolf, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -de Mille, Agnes, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -de Mille, Cecil B., <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -de Mille Dance Theatre, Agnes, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -de Molas, Nicolas, <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> - -Denham, Sergei I., <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a><br /> - -<a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>,1<a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -de Pachmann, Vladimir, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Derain, André, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -de Valois, Ninette, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_268">268</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a>, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_287">287</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_293">293</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_306">306</a>, <a href="#page_308">308</a><br /> - -<i>Devil’s Holiday</i>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Diaghileff Ballets Russes, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Diaghileff, Serge, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_93">93</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_205">205</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_275">275</a>, <a href="#page_287">287</a>, <a href="#page_289">289</a><br /> - -Dickens, Charles, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -d’Indy, Vincent, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Dior, Christian, <a href="#page_258">258</a><br /> - -Dillingham, Charles B., <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -<i>Dim Lustre</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Divertissement</i>, <a href="#page_205">205</a><br /> - -<i>Divertissement</i> (Tchaikowsky), <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Dixieland Band, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Doboujinsky, Mstislav, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Dohnanyi, Erno von, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Dolin, Anton, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_204">204-207</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Dollar, William, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Don Domingo</i>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Don Juan</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -<i>Don Quixote</i>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Don Quixote</i> (Gerhard), <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Dorati, Antal, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a><br /> - -Dostoevsky, <a href="#page_36">36</a><br /> - -Drake Hotel (Chicago), <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a><br /> - -Drury Lane Theatre (Royal) (London), <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -Dubrowska, Felia, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Dufy, Raoul, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Dukas, Paul, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Dukelsky, Vladimir (Vernon Duke), <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Dukes, Ashley, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -Dumas, Alexandre, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Duncan, Augustin, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> - -Duncan, Elizabeth, <a href="#page_29">29</a><br /> - -Duncan, Isadora, <a href="#page_28">28-36</a>, <a href="#page_37">37</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_47">47</a>, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_65">65</a>, <a href="#page_93">93</a><br /> - -Duncan, Raymond, <a href="#page_29">29</a><br /> - -Dunham, Katherine, <a href="#page_58">58-63</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Duse, Eleanora, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Dushkin, Samuel, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Dvorak, Antonin, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="E"></a>Edgeworth, Jane, <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -Edinburgh Festival, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> - -Educational Ballets, Ltd., <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a><br /> - -Eglevsky, André, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Egmont</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Egorova, Lubov, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_71">71-72</a><br /> - -<i>El Amor Brujo</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>El Café de Chinitas</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a><br /> - -<i>Elegiac Blues</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -<i>Elements, Les</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>El Huayno</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -Eliot, T. S., <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Ellsler, Fanny, <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a><br /> - -Elman, Misha, <a href="#page_17">17</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a><br /> - -Elman, Sol, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Elmhirst Foundation, <a href="#page_52">52</a><br /> - -<i>Elves, Les</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Elvin, Harold, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Elvin, Violetta, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_294">294-295</a><br /> - -<i>Elvira</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Empire Theatre (London), <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -English Opera Group, Ltd., <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -English-Speaking Union, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> - -<i>En Saga</i>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -<i>Epreuve d’Amour, L’</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Erlanger, Baron Frederic d’, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -<i>Errante</i>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Escales</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Escudero, Vicente, <a href="#page_47">47-49</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a><br /> - -Essenin, Serge, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_34">34</a><br /> - -<i>Eternal Struggle, The</i>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -<i>Eugene Onegin</i>, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Ewing, Thomas, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="F"></a>Façade</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -<i>Facsimile</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Faery Queen, The</i>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -<i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Fairy Doll</i>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Falla, Manuel de, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Fancy Free</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>Fandango</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -<i>Fantasia</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Farrar, Geraldine, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -<i>Farruca</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -<i>Faust</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Federal Dance Theatre, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Fedorova, Alexandra, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Fedorovitch, Sophie, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Fernandez, José, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Fernandez, Royes, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Festival Ballet (London), <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Festival Theatre (Cambridge University), <a href="#page_217">217</a><br /> - -<i>Fête Etrange, La</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Field, Marshall, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> - -Fifield, Elaine, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -<i>Fille de Madame Angot, La</i>, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -<i>Fille Mal Gardée, La</i>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Firebird</i> (<i>L’Oiseau de Feu</i>), <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a><br /> - -<i>First Love</i>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -Fisher, Thomas Hart, <a href="#page_253">253</a><br /> - -Fiske, Harrison Grey, <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -Fitzgerald, Barry, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Fleischmann, Julius, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_124">124</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a><br /> - -Fokine American Ballet, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -Fokine, Michel, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_65">65</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_92">92-104</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_308">308</a><br /> - -Fokina, Vera, <a href="#page_92">92</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> - -Fokine, Vitale, <a href="#page_93">93</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> - -Fonteyn, Margot, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>, <a href="#page_254">254-259</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_282">282</a>, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Ford Foundation, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -Forrest Theatre (Philadelphia), <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> - -Forty-eighth Street Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Forty-fourth Street Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> - -Forty-sixth Street Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -Foss, Lukas, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -<i>Fountains of Bakchisserai, The</i>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -<i>Four Saints in Three Acts</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Fox, Horace, <a href="#page_263">263</a><br /> - -<i>Foyer de Danse</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Franca, Celia, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Francaix, Jean, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -France, Anatole, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Francesca da Rimini</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Franck, César, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Frankenstein, Alfred, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> - -Franklin, Benjamin, <a href="#page_16">16</a><br /> - -Franklin, Frederick, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a><br /> - -Franks, Sir Oliver and Lady, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> - -French National Lyric Theatre, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Fridolin</i>, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Frohman, Mae, <a href="#page_46">46</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_312">312</a>, <a href="#page_313">313</a><br /> - -<i>Frolicking Gods</i>, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> - -Frost, Honor, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Fuller, Loie, <a href="#page_37">37-39</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="G"></a>Gaîté Parisienne</i>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -<i>Gala Evening</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Gala Performance</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Galli, Rosina, <a href="#page_18">18</a><br /> - -Garson, Greer, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Gatti-Cazzaza, Giulio, <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -Gaubert, Phillipe, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Geltser, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Geltzer, Ekaterina, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Genée, Adeline, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Genthe, Dr. Arnold, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Gerhard, Robert, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -German Opera Company, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Gershwin, George, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Gest, Morris, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_93">93</a><br /> - -Gest, Simeon, <a href="#page_80">80</a><br /> - -Geva, Tamara, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -<i>Ghost Town</i>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Gibson, Ian, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Gide, André, <a href="#page_115">115</a><br /> - -Gielgud, John, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -<i>Gift of the Magi</i>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Gilbert, W. S., <a href="#page_299">299</a><br /> - -Gilmour, Sally, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -Gindt, Ekaterina, <a href="#page_104">104</a><br /> - -<i>Giselle</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_207">207</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Gladowska, Constantia, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Glazounow, Alexandre, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Glinka, Mikhail, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> - -<i>Gloriana</i>, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -Gluck, Christopher Willibald von, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Goetz, E. Ray, <a href="#page_110">110</a><br /> - -Gogol, Nikolai, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Gollner, Nana, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a><br /> - -Golovine, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> - -Gontcharova, Nathalie, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> - -Goode, Gerald, <a href="#page_42">42</a><br /> - -<i>Good-Humoured Ladies, The</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Gopal, Ram, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -Gordon, Gavin, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -Gore, Walter, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Gorky, Maxim, <a href="#page_15">15</a>, <a href="#page_16">16</a>, <a href="#page_26">26</a><br /> - -<i>Götter-dammerung, Die</i>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Gould, Diana, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -Gould, Morton, <a href="#page_165">165</a><br /> - -<i>Goyescas</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Graduation Ball</i>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Graham, Martha, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_63">63-65</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -Grand Ballet de Monte Carlo, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Grand Ballet du Marquis de Cuevas, <a href="#page_196">196</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Grant, Alexander, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Grauman’s Chinese Theatre (Hollywood), <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -Grauman’s Egyptian Theatre (Hollywood), <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -<i>Graziana</i>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Greco, José, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -<i>Green Table, The</i>, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Grey, Beryl, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_292">292-294</a><br /> - -Grigorieva, Tamara, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Grigorieff, Serge, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Grimousinkaya, Irina, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Gross, Alexander, <a href="#page_29">29</a><br /> - -Guerard, Roland, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Guerra, Nicola, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Guiablesse, La</i>, <a href="#page_58">58</a><br /> - -Guinsberg, Naron “Nikki,” <a href="#page_131">131</a><br /> - -Guthrie, Tyrone, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="H"></a>Habima Theatre, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Hall, James Norman, <a href="#page_276">276</a><br /> - -Hallé Orchestra, The, <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> - -<i>Hamlet</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a><br /> - -<i>Hammersmith Nights</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Hanson, Joe, <a href="#page_209">209</a><br /> - -<i>Harlequin in April</i>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Hartley, Russell, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Hartmann, Emil, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Harvard Library, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>Harvest Time</i>, <a href="#page_167">167</a><br /> - -Heseltine, Philip (Peter Warlock), <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Haskell, Arnold L., <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_286">286-289</a><br /> - -Hastings, Hanns, <a href="#page_41">41</a><br /> - -<i>Haunted Ballroom, The</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Hawkes, Ralph, <a href="#page_229">229</a><br /> - -Hayward, Louis, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Heifetz, Jascha, <a href="#page_82">82</a><br /> - -<i>Helen of Troy</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Helpmann, Robert, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_282">282-286</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Henderson, Mrs. Laura, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Henderson, W. J., <a href="#page_23">23</a><br /> - -<i>Henry VIII.</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Henry, O., <a href="#page_164">164</a><br /> - -Hepburn, Katherine, <a href="#page_285">285</a><br /> - -Hess, Dame Myra, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -Hightower, Rosella, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Hindemith, Paul, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -<i>Hindu Wedding</i>, <a href="#page_51">51</a><br /> - -Hippodrome (New York), <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_314">314</a><br /> - -Hirsch, Georges, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a><br /> - -H. M. Ministry of Works, <a href="#page_224">224</a><br /> - -Hobi, Frank, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Hoffman, Gertrude, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Hogarth, William, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Holden, Stanley, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Hollywood Bowl, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a><br /> - -Hollywood Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Homage to the Queen</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -<i>Hooray for Love</i>, <a href="#page_50">50</a><br /> - -Horenstein, Jascha, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -<i>Horoscope</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Horrocks, <a href="#page_231">231</a><br /> - -Hotel Meurice (Paris), <a href="#page_39">39</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a><br /> - -Howard, Andrée, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Hughes, Herbert, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Hugo, Pierre, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Hugo, Victor, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Humphrey, Doris, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -<i>Hundred Kisses, The</i>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> - -<i>Hungary</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -Hurok, Mrs. (Emma), <a href="#page_46">46</a>, <a href="#page_49">49</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_312">312</a><br /> - -Hurry, Leslie, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Hyams, Ruth, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_313">313</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="I"></a>Ibert, Jacques, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Icare</i>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -<i>Igroushki</i>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>Imaginaires, Les</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Imperial League of Opera (London), <a href="#page_107">107</a><br /> - -Imperial School of Ballet (Moscow), <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a><br /> - -<i>Impresario</i>, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>I Musici</i>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -<i>In Old Madrid</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -International Ballet (London), <a href="#page_290">290</a><br /> - -International Ballet, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a><br /> - -International Choreographic Competition (Paris), <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -International Dance Festival, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -International Revue, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -<i>Interplay</i>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Ippolitov-Ivanov, Mikhail, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Irving, Robert, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Irving, Sir Henry, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -“Isadorables” (Anna, Lysel, Gretl, Thérése, Erica, Irma), <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_34">34</a><br /> - -<i>Istar</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Iturbi, José, <a href="#page_57">57</a><br /> - -Ivanoff, Lev, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Ivy House (London), <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_25">25</a>, <a href="#page_26">26</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="J"></a>Jackson, Tom, <a href="#page_224">224</a><br /> - -Jackson, Rowena, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_296">296-297</a><br /> - -Jacob, Gordon, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -Jacob’s Pillow, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Japanese Dancers and Musicians, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -<i>Jardin aux Lilas</i> (<i>Lilac Garden</i>), <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Jardin Public</i> (<i>Public Garden</i>), <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Jasinsky, Roman, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Jerome, Jerome K., <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring</i>, <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -<i>Jeux</i>, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -<i>Jeux d’Enfants</i> (<i>Children’s Games</i>), <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Jeux des Cartes</i> (<i>Card Game</i>, <i>Poker Game</i>), <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -<i>Job</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a><br /> - -Johnson, Albert, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Johnson, Edward, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a><br /> - -Jolivet, André, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Joos, Kurt, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -<i>Jota</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -<i>Jota Argonese</i>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Juda, Hans, <a href="#page_231">231</a><br /> - -<i>Judgment of Paris</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="K"></a>Kahn, Otto H., <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_319">319</a><br /> - -Kaloujny, Alexandre, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Karnilova, Maria, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Karsavina, Tamara, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_72">72-73</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Karsavin, Platon, <a href="#page_72">72</a><br /> - -Kauffer, E. McKnight, <a href="#page_241">241</a><br /> - -Kaye, Nora, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a><br /> - -Kchessinsky, Felix, <a href="#page_68">68</a><br /> - -Kchessinska, Mathilde, <a href="#page_67">67-69</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a><br /> - -Kennedy, Ludovic, <a href="#page_291">291</a><br /> - -Keynes, Geoffrey, <a href="#page_238">238</a><br /> - -Keynes, J. Maynard (Lord Keynes), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a><br /> - -<i>Khadra</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Kidd, Michael, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>Knight and the Maiden, The</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Korovin, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Kosloff, Alexis, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -Kosloff, Theodore, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_84">84-85</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Koudriavtzeff, Nicholas, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Koussevitsky, Serge, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Krassovska, Natalie (Leslie), <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Kreutzberg, Harald, <a href="#page_46">46</a><br /> - -Kriza, John, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a><br /> - -Kubelik, Jan, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a><br /> - -Kurtz, Efrem, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Kyasht, Lydia (Kyaksht), <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_73">73-75</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="L"></a>Laban, Rudolf von, <a href="#page_40">40</a><br /> - -<i>Labyrinth</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Lac des Cygnes</i> (Full length), <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_293">293</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -<i>Lady Into Fox</i>, <a href="#page_171">171</a><br /> - -<i>Lady of the Camellias</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Lady of Shalot</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>L’Ag’ya</i>, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Laing, Hugh, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Lalo, Eduardo, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Lambert, Constant, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_272">272-279</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_293">293</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Lancaster, Osbert, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Lanchbery, John, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> - -Lane, Maryon, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Larianov, Michel, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a><br /> - -<i>Last Days of Nijinsky, The</i>, <a href="#page_83">83</a><br /> - -<i>Laudes Evangelli</i>, <a href="#page_120">120</a><br /> - -Lauret, Jeanette, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Lawrence, Gertrude, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Lawson-Powell School (New Zealand), <a href="#page_296">296</a><br /> - -Lazovsky, Yurek, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Lecocq, Charles, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -<i>Leda and the Swan</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Lehmann, Maurice, <a href="#page_216">216</a><br /> - -Lenin, Nicolai, <a href="#page_68">68</a><br /> - -Leningrad Conservatory, <a href="#page_312">312</a><br /> - -Leslie, Lew, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Lester, Edwin, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Lester, Keith, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Levine, Marks, <a href="#page_313">313</a><br /> - -Lewisohn Stadium (New York), <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a><br /> - -Liadoff, Anatole, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Lichine, David, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Lidji, Jacques, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> - -Lieberman, Elias, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> - -Lie, Honorable Trygve, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -<i>Lieutenant Kije</i>, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Lifar, Serge, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Lingwood, Tom, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Lipkovska, Tatiana, <a href="#page_186">186</a><br /> - -Litavkin, Serge, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -Little Theatre (New York Times Hall), <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Liszt, Franz, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a><br /> - -Liverpool Philharmonic Society, <a href="#page_280">280</a><br /> - -Lobe, Edward, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Local managers, <a href="#page_314">314-315</a><br /> - -Loew’s Theatre (Washington, D.C.), <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> - -London Ballet Workshop, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -London Philharmonic Orchestra, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a><br /> - -London Symphony Orchestra, <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> - -Lopez, Pilar, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_58">58</a><br /> - -Lopokova, Lydia (Lady Keynes), <a href="#page_67">67</a><br /> - -<a href="#page_75">75-77</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> - -Lorca, Garcia, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a><br /> - -<i>Lord of Burleigh, The</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Loring, Eugene, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Los Angeles Civic Light Opera Association, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Losch, Tilly, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -Lourie, Eugene, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Louys, Pierre, <a href="#page_93">93</a><br /> - -Lurçat, Jean, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Lyon, Annabelle, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Lyceum Theatre (London), <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="M"></a>Mackaye, Percy, <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -MacLeish, Archibald, <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> - -Macletzova, Xenia, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a><br /> - -<i>Mlle. Angot</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -<i>Magic Swan, The</i>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Maclès, Jean-Denis, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a><br /> - -Malone, Halsey, <a href="#page_128">128</a><br /> - -Majestic Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_54">54</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a><br /> - -Manhattan Opera House (New York), <a href="#page_24">24</a><br /> - -Mansfield, Richard, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Manuel, Roland, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Man Who Married a Dumb Wife, The</i>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Mardi Gras</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Marie Antoinette Hotel (New York), <a href="#page_97">97</a><br /> - -Maria Thérésa, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Marie, Grand Duchess of Russia, <a href="#page_111">111</a><br /> - -Marie, Queen of Rumania, <a href="#page_37">37</a>, <a href="#page_38">38</a><br /> - -Mark Hopkins Hotel (San Francisco), <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Markova, Alicia, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_200">200-204</a>, <a href="#page_207">207</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a><br /> - -Markova-Dolin Ballet Company, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a><br /> - -Martin Beck Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Martin, Florence and Kathleen, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Martin, John, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a><br /> - -Maryinsky Theatre (Russia), <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> - -<i>Masques, Les</i>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Masonic Auditorium (Detroit), <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a><br /> - -Massenet, Jules, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -Massine, Leonide, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_124">124</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_245">245</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -Masson, André, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Matelots, Les</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Matisse, Henri, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -May, Pamela, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a><br /> - -<i>Medusa</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a><br /> - -Melba, Dame Nellie, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -Melville, Herman, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -Mendelssohn, Felix von, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Menotti, Gian-Carlo, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Mens, Meta, <a href="#page_40">40</a><br /> - -<i>Mephisto Valse</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Merchant Navy Suite</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Mercury Theatre (London), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Merida, Carlos, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Messager, André, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Messel, Oliver, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Metropolitan Opera Company, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -Metropolitan Opera House (New York), <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_30">30</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_97">97</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_293">293</a>, <a href="#page_307">307</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Metropolitan Opera House (Philadelphia), <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Meyerbeer, Giacomo, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -<i>Midnight Sun, The</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Midsummer Night’s Dream, A</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Mielziner, Jo, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Mignone, Francisco, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Mikhailovsky Theatre (St. Petersburg), <a href="#page_89">89</a><br /> - -Miller, Patricia, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Milhaud, Darius, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Mills, Florence, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Minkus, Leon, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -<i>Minuet of the Will o’ the Wisps</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Miracle, The</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Miracle in the Gorbals</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> - -<i>Mirages, Les</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Miro, Joan, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Mladova, Milada, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Modjeska, Helena, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -<i>Monotonie</i>, <a href="#page_42">42</a><br /> - -Montenegro, Robert, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Monteux, Pierre, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, <a href="#page_116">116</a><br /> - -“<i>Moonlight Sonata</i>,” <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Moore, Henry, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -Mordkin Ballet, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a><br /> - -Mordkin, Mikhail, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_22">22</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_79">79-81</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -<i>Morning Telegraph, The</i> (New York), <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Morosova, Olga, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a><br /> - -Morris, Douglas, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> - -<i>Mort du Cygne, La</i> (<i>The Dying Swan</i>), <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a><br /> - -Mortlock, Rev. C. B., <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -Moreton, Ursula, <a href="#page_299">299</a><br /> - -Moscow Art Players, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Moss and Fontana, <a href="#page_54">54</a><br /> - -<i>Mother Goose Suite</i>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Motley, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Moussorgsky, Modeste, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -<i>Movimientos</i>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a><br /> - -Munsel, Patrice, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -<i>Murder in the Cathedral</i>, <a href="#page_285">285</a><br /> - -Music for the Masses, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -<i>Music for the Orchestra</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Music Ho!, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -<i>Mute Wife, The</i>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>My Three Loves</i>, <a href="#page_290">290</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="N"></a>Nabokoff, Nicholas, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Nachez, Twadar, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Natalie Koussevitsky Foundation, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -National Gallery (London), <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -National Symphony Orchestra (Washington, D.C.), <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Nation, Carrie, <a href="#page_37">37</a><br /> - -<i>Naouma</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Nemtchinova-Dolin Ballet, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Nemtchinova, Vera, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a><br /> - -Nerina, Nadia, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_295">295-296</a><br /> - -New Dance—Theatre Piece—With My Red Fires (trilogy), <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -New York City Ballet, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -New York City Center, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -New York City Festival, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a><br /> - -<i>New York Herald-Tribune</i>, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -New York Philharmonic Orchestra, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a><br /> - -New York Symphony Orchestra, <a href="#page_31">31</a><br /> - -<i>New York Times, The</i>, <a href="#page_17">17</a>, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>New Yorker, The</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Nicolaeva-Legat, Nadine, <a href="#page_289">289</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a><br /> - -<i>Night on a Bald Mountain</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Nijinska, Bronislava, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Nijinska, Romola, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_83">83</a><br /> - -Nijinsky, Vaslav, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_81">81-84</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> - -<i>Noces, Les</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Nocturne</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Nordoff, Paul, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Novikoff, Elizabeth, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Novikoff, Laurent, <a href="#page_22">22</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -<i>Nuit d’Egypte, Une</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -<i>Nutcracker, The</i>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Nutcracker Suite</i>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="O"></a>Oberon</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Obolensky, Prince Serge, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a><br /> - -Oboukhoff, Anatole, <a href="#page_125">125</a><br /> - -O’Dwyer, William, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -Offenbach, Jacques, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Old Vic Theatre (London), <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Olivier, Sir Laurence, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -<i>On Stage!</i>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>On the Route to Seville</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -<i>Orchesographie</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -O’Reilley, Sheilah, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Original Ballet Russe, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_138">138-146</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Orloff, Nicolas, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Orlova, Tatiana ( Mrs. Leonide Massine), <a href="#page_126">126</a><br /> - -Osato, Sono, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_162">162</a><br /> - -Ostrovsky Theatre (Moscow), <a href="#page_117">117</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="P"></a>Pabst Theatre (Milwaukee), <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -<i>Paganini</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> - -Paganini, Niccolo, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Page, Ruth, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_60">60</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a><br /> - -<i>Paint Your Wagon</i>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Palacio des Bellas Artes (Mexico City), <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Palisades Amusement Park (New York), <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a><br /> - -Panaieff, Michel, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -<i>Pantomime Harlequinade</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Papillons, Les</i>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -<i>Paris</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Paris Colonial Exposition, <a href="#page_51">51</a><br /> - -Paris Opéra, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a><br /> - -Paris Opera Ballet, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Paris Opéra Comique, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Paris Opéra Company, <a href="#page_169">169</a><br /> - -<i>Pas de Quatre</i>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Pas des Espagnole</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Pas de Trois</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Passing of the Third Floor Back, The</i>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Pastorale</i>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -<i>Patineurs, Les</i>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Patterson, Yvonne, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Pavane</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Pavillon, La</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Pavillon d’Armide</i>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Pavlova, Anna, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_12">12-27</a>, <a href="#page_28">28</a>, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_47">47</a>, <a href="#page_51">51</a>, <a href="#page_52">52</a>, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a><br /> - -Payne, Charles, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Péne du Bois, Raoul, <a href="#page_164">164</a><br /> - -People’s Theatre (St. Petersburg), <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> - -<i>Peri, La</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Perpetual Motion</i>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Perrault, Charles, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> - -Perrot, Jules, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -Peter and the Wolf, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Peter Grimes</i>, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -Petipa, Marius, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Petit, Roland, <a href="#page_119">119</a><br /> - -Petit, Roland, Ballet Company, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -<i>Petits Riens, Les</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Petroff, Paul, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -<i>Petroushka</i>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Philadelphia Orchestra, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a><br /> - -Philipoff, Alexander (“Sasha”), <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a><br /> - -<i>Piano Concerto</i> (Lambert), <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -<i>Piano Concerto in F Minor</i> (Chopin), <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Picasso, Pablo, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a><br /> - -<i>Pictures at an Exhibition</i>, <a href="#page_190">190</a><br /> - -<i>Pillar of Fire</i>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>Pineapple Poll</i>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -<i>Pins and Needles</i>, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Pinza, Ezio, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Piper, John, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -<i>Plages, Le</i>, (<i>Beach</i>), <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Platoff, Mark, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Playfair, Nigel, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Pleasant, Richard, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -Podesta, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -Pogany, Willy, <a href="#page_95">95</a><br /> - -<i>Poland—Three Moods: Happiness, Revolt, Sadness</i>, <a href="#page_97">97</a><br /> - -Poliakov, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a><br /> - -<i>Polka</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Polunin, Vladimir, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Pomona</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Poole, David, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -<i>Poor Richard’s Almanack</i>, <a href="#page_16">16</a><br /> - -Popova, Nina, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Portinari, Candido, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Ports of Call</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Poulenc, Francis, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Powell, Lionel, <a href="#page_107">107</a><br /> - -Pratt, John, <a href="#page_63">63</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Preobrajenska, Olga, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_69">69-71</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Présages, Les</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> - -<i>Princess Aurora</i>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -<i>Prince Igor</i>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -H.H. Prince of Monaco, <a href="#page_106">106</a><br /> - -<i>Prodigal Son, The</i> (<i>Le Fils Prodigue</i>), <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Prokhoroff, Vassili, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Prokofieff, Sergei, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -<i>Prophet, The</i>, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -<i>Prospect Before Us, The</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -<i>Protée</i>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Pruna, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Psota, Vania, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Punch and the Policeman</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Purcell, Henry, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Pushkin, Alexander, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="Q"></a>Quest, The</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -<i>Quintet</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="R"></a>Rachel, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Rachmaninoff, Sergei, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Rafael, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -<i>Rakoczy March</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Rake’s Progress, The</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -Rambert, Marie, <a href="#page_77">77-79</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Rameau, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Rapee, Erno, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Rassine, Alexis, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Rawsthorne, Alan, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -Ravel, Maurice, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Ravina, Jean, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Reaper’s Dream, The</i>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -<i>Red Shoes</i>, <a href="#page_289">289</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -Reed, Janet, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -Reed, Richard, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Reich, George, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Reinhardt, Max, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Remisoff, Nicholas, <a href="#page_91">91</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Renault, Madeline, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Renault, Michel, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Rendez-vous, Les</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Respighi, Ottorino, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Revueltas, Sylvestre, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Reyes, Alfonso, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -<i>Rhapsody on the Theme of Paganini</i>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Riaboushinska, Tatiana, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Ricarda, Ana, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Richardson, Philip, J. S., <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -Richman, Harry, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Richmond, Aaron, <a href="#page_260">260</a><br /> - -Rieti, Vittorio, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Rimsky-Korsakoff, Nicolas, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Rio Grande</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Rittman, Trudi, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Ritz, Roger, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Robbins, Jerome, <a href="#page_65">65</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Robinson, Casey, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -Robinson, Edward, G., <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Rockefeller Foundation, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -<i>Rodeo</i>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Roerich, Nicholas, <a href="#page_123">123</a><br /> - -Rogers, Richard, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Romanoff, Boris, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Romanoff, Dmitri, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<i>Romantic Age</i>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Romulo, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -<i>Rondino</i>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Rosay, Berrina, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Roshanara, <a href="#page_52">52</a><br /> - -Rose, Billy, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Rosenthal, Manuel, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Rossini, Gioacchino, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Rostova, Lubov, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Rothapfel, Samuel, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -Rouault, Georges, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -<i>Rouet d’Omphale</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Rouge et Noir</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Roussalka</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Rowell, Kenneth, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Roxy Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a><br /> - -Roy, Pierre, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Royal Academy of Dancing (London), <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Royal College of Music, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Royal Danish Ballet, <a href="#page_104">104</a><br /> - -Royal Festival Hall (London), <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Royal Opera House (Copenhagen), <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> - -Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_242">242</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a>, <a href="#page_245">245</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Rubbra, Edward, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -Rubenstein, Ida, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Rubinstein, Anton, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Rubinstein, Mr. & Mrs. Arthur, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> - -Rubinstein, Beryl, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Rubinstein, Nicholas, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Ruffo, Tito, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Runanin, Borislav, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<i>Russian Folk Dances</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Russian Folk Lore</i>, <a href="#page_86">86</a><br /> - -<i>Russian Folk Tales</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Russian Imperial Ballet, <a href="#page_13">13</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a><br /> - -Russian Imperial School of the Ballet (St. Petersburg), <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a><br /> - -Russian Opera Company, <a href="#page_310">310</a><br /> - -<i>Russian Soldier</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a><br /> - -Russian State School (Warsaw), <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="S"></a>Sabo, Roszika, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Sacre du Printemps, Le</i> (<i>Rite of Spring</i>), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a><br /> - -Saddler, Donald, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Sadler, Thomas, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_242">242</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_250">250</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a>, <a href="#page_266">266</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a>, <a href="#page_268">268</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_282">282</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a>, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_288">288</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a>, <a href="#page_295">295</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells Foundation, <a href="#page_288">288</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells Opera Company, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells School, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_287">287</a>, <a href="#page_288">288</a>, <a href="#page_289">289</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells Theatre, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_288">288</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_309">309</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -St. Denis, Ruth, <a href="#page_64">64</a><br /> - -<i>St. Francis</i> (<i>Noblissima Visione</i>), <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -St. James Ballet Company, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -St. James Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> - -Sainthill, Loudon, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -St. Regis Hotel (New York), <a href="#page_83">83</a>, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a><br /> - -Saint-Saens, Charles Camille, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -“Saison des Ballets Russes,” <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -<i>Salad</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Salome’s Dance of the Seven Veils</i>, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -<i>Samson and Delilah</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -San Francisco Art Commission, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -<i>San Francisco Chronicle</i>, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> - -San Francisco Civic Ballet, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -San Francisco Opera Ballet, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a><br /> - -San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, <a href="#page_199">199</a><br /> - -<i>Sapeteado</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Saratoga</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Sargent, Sir Malcolm, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -Sauguet, Henri, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Savoy Hotel (London), <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> - -Savoy-Plaza Hotel (New York), <a href="#page_112">112</a><br /> - -Scala, La (Milan), <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a><br /> - -Scarlatti, Domenico, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Scènes de Ballet, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -Schönberg, Arnold, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Schoop, Paul, <a href="#page_50">50</a><br /> - -Schoop, Trudi, <a href="#page_49">49-50</a><br /> - -<i>Schéhérazade</i>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Schubert, Franz, <a href="#page_30">30</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Schumann-Heink, Ernestine, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Schumann, Robert, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Schuman, William, <a href="#page_162">162</a><br /> - -<i>Scuola di Ballo</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Schwezoff, Igor, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -<i>Sea Change</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -<i>Seasons, The</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -<i>Sebastian</i>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Sedova, Julia, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Selfridge, Gordon, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> - -Seligman, Izia, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Semenoff, Simon, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Serguëef, Nicholas, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -<i>Serpentine Dance</i>, <a href="#page_37">37</a>, <a href="#page_38">38</a><br /> - -Sert, José Maria, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Sevastianoff, German, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> - -<i>Seven Dances of Life</i>, <a href="#page_40">40</a><br /> - -<i>Seven Lively Arts, The</i>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -<i>Seventh Symphony</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Sevillianas</i>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -Shabalevsky, Yurek, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -<i>Shadow, The</i>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Shakespeare Festival Theatre (Stratford), <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Shakespeare, William, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Shan-Kar, Uday, <a href="#page_51">51-53</a><br /> - -Sharaff, Irene, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Shaw, Bernard, <a href="#page_282">282</a><br /> - -Shaw, Brian, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -Shawn, Ted, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -Shearer, Moira, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a>, <a href="#page_289">289-292</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Shostakovich, Dmitri, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Shore Excursion</i>, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Shrine Auditorium (Los Angeles), <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Sibelius, Jan, <a href="#page_276">276</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Siebert, Wallace, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Sierra, Martinez, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a><br /> - -<i>Sirènes, Les</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> - -Sitwell, Edith, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a><br /> - -Sitwell, Sir Osbert, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -Sitwell, Sacheverell, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -Skibine, George, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Slavenska, Mia, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -<i>Slavonic Dances</i>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<i>Slavonika</i>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a><br /> - -<i>Sleeping Beauty, The</i> (<i>Sleeping Princess, The</i>), <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a><br /> - -<a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_250">250</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Sloan, Alfred P., <a href="#page_230">230</a><br /> - -Smith, Douglas, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Smith, Oliver, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Snow Maiden, The</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Sokoloff, Asa, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> - -<i>Soleares</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a><br /> - -Somes, Michael, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -<i>Song of the Nightingale, The</i>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -Soudeikine, Serge, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -<i>Source, La</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>South African Dancing Times</i>, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -Soviet State School of Ballet, <a href="#page_70">70</a><br /> - -<i>Spectre de la Rose, Le</i>, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Spessivtseva, Olga, <a href="#page_71">71</a><br /> - -Staats, Leo, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Staff, Frank, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -<i>Star of the North</i>, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -<i>Stars in Your Eyes</i>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -Stalin, Joseph, <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> - -Stein, Gertrude, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Stevenson, Hugh, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Still, William Grant, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Stokowski, Leopold, <a href="#page_106">106</a><br /> - -Straight, Dorothy (Mrs. Elmhirst), <a href="#page_52">52</a><br /> - -Strauss, Johann, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Strauss, Richard, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Stravinsky, Igor, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_91">91</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a><br /> - -<i>Suite de Danse</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Suite in F Sharp Minor</i> (Dohnanyi), <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -<i>Suite in White</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Sullivan, Sir Arthur, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -<i>Summer’s Last Will and Testament</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -<i>Sun, The</i> (New York), <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -Svenson, Sven, Dr., <a href="#page_293">293</a><br /> - -<i>Swan Lake</i> (One act version), <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Sylphides, Les</i>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Sylvia</i>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -<i>Symphonic Impressions</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Symphonic Variations</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -<i>Symphonie Fantastique</i>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Symphonie Pathétique</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a><br /> - -<i>Symphony for Fun</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Symphony in C</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="T"></a>Taglioni, Marie, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a><br /> - -Taglioni, Philippe, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Tait, E. J., <a href="#page_138">138</a><br /> - -Talbot, J. Alden, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a><br /> - -<i>Tales of Hoffman</i>, <a href="#page_290">290</a><br /> - -Tallchief, Marjorie, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Tally-Ho</i>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>Tango</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -<i>Tannhauser</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Tarantule, La</i>, <a href="#page_18">18</a><br /> - -Taras, John, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Taylor, Deems, <a href="#page_23">23</a><br /> - -Tchaikowsky, Peter Ilytch, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Tchekhoff, Michael, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Tchelitcheff, Pavel, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a><br /> - -Tcherepnine, Nicholas, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Tchernicheva, Lubov, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Tennent Productions, Ltd., <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> - -Terry, Ellen, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Tetrazzini, Eva, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Teyte, Maggie, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -<i>Thamar</i>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> - -Théâtre Mogador, <a href="#page_34">34</a><br /> - -<i>Theatre Street</i>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a><br /> - -Theilade, Nini, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Thomson, Virgil, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Three-Cornered Hat, The</i> (<i>Le Tricorne</i>), <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -<i>Three Virgins and a Devil</i>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Thunder Bird, The</i>, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> - -Tierney, Gene, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -<i>Times, The</i> (London), <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a><br /> - -<i>Tiresias</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> - -Tommasini, Vincenzo, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a><br /> - -<i>Tonight We Sing</i>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_312">312</a><br /> - -Toscanini, Arturo, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Toumanova, Tamara, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_167">167-170</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Toye, Geoffrey, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Tragedy of Fashion, The</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Traviata, La</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Trecu, Pirmin, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -Trefilova, Vera, <a href="#page_71">71</a><br /> - -<i>Triumph of Neptune, The</i>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Trocadero (Paris), <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Tropical Revue</i>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Trudi Schoop Comic Ballet, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Truman, Harry S., <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -Tudor, Antony, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Tupine, Oleg, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Turner, Jarold, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -<i>Twice Upon a Time</i>, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -<i>Two Pigeons, The</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="U"></a>Ulanova, Galina, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a><br /> - -<i>Undertow</i>, <a href="#page_161">161-162</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -U.N.E.S.C.O., <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> - -<i>Union Pacific</i>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> - -Universal Art, Inc., <a href="#page_124">124</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a><br /> - -University of Chicago, <a href="#page_58">58</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="V"></a>Vaganova, Agrippina, <a href="#page_266">266</a><br /> - -Valbor, Kirsten, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Valses Nobles et Sentimentales</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Van Buren, Martin (President of U.S.A.), <a href="#page_18">18</a><br /> - -Vanderlip, Frank, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> - -Van Druten, John, <a href="#page_24">24</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Van Praagh, Peggy, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> - -Van Vechten, Carl, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a><br /> - -Vargas, Manolo, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -Vaudoyer, J. L., <a href="#page_21">21</a><br /> - -Vaussard, Christiane, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Verchinina, Nina, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Verdi, Giuseppi, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Verklärte Nacht</i>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Vertes, Marcel, <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> - -<i>Vestris Solo</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Victory Hall (London), <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Vic-Wells Ballet, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Vienna 1814</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Vienna State Opera, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Vilzak, Anatole, <a href="#page_125">125</a><br /> - -<i>Vision of Marguerite</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Vladimiroff, Pierre, <a href="#page_22">22</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a><br /> - -Volinine, Alexandre, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_22">22</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a><br /> - -Vollmar, Jocelyn, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Volpe, Arnold, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_97">97</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Volpe, Mrs. Arnold, <a href="#page_97">97</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a><br /> - -Vsevolojsky, I. A., <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="W"></a>Wagner, Richard, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Wakehurst, Lord & Lady, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> - -Wallman, Margaret, <a href="#page_70">70</a><br /> - -Walton, Sir William, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -<i>Waltz Academy</i>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Wanderer, The</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -<i>Want-Ads</i>, <a href="#page_50">50</a><br /> - -War Memorial Opera House (San Francisco), <a href="#page_162">162</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_250">250</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_282">282</a><br /> - -Warner Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_308">308</a><br /> - -Washburn, Malone & Perkins, <a href="#page_131">131</a><br /> - -Washington Square Players (The Theatre Guild), <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -<i>Waste Land, The</i>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -<i>Water Nymph, The</i>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -Watkins, Mary, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -Watteau, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Weber, Carl Maria von, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Webster, David, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_242">242</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279-282</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -<i>Wedding Bouquet, A</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a><br /> - -Weidman, Charles, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -Weinberger, Jaromir, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Werther</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -Whalen, Grover, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -Whistler, Rex, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Whirl of the World, The</i>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -Wigman, Mary, <a href="#page_39">39-46</a>, <a href="#page_47">47</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_65">65</a><br /> - -Wieniawsky, Henry, <a href="#page_167">167</a><br /> - -Williams, Emlyn, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Williams, Ralf Vaughan, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a><br /> - -Winter Garden (New York), <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -<i>Winter Night</i>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -<i>Wise Animals, The</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Wise Virgins, The</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Woizikowsky, Leon, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Works Progress Administration, <a href="#page_320">320</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="Y"></a>Yara</i>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Yazvinsky, Jean (Ivan), <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Young Vic Theatre Co., <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> - -Youskevitch, Igor, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Ysaye, Eugene, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Yudkin, Louis, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="Z"></a>Zamba</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -<i>Zapateado</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -Zeller, Robert, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Zerbaseff</i>, <a href="#page_108">108</a><br /> - -Zeretelli, Prince, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a><br /> - -Ziegfeld Follies, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> - -Ziegfeld Roof (New York), <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Ziegfeld Theatre, <a href="#page_165">165</a><br /> - -Ziegler, Edward, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Zimbalist, Efrem, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Zon, Ignat, <a href="#page_127">127</a><br /> - -Zorich, George, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Zorina, Vera, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -Zuckert, Harry M., <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -Zvereff, Nicholas, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> -</p> - -<table style="padding:2%;border:3px dotted gray;" -id="transcrib"> -<tr><th>Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:</th></tr> -<tr><td> -<p>This was, so far is I know=> This was, so far as I know {pg 50}</p> - -<p>necessary and funadmental=> necessary and fundamental {pg 68}</p> - -<p>heirarchy of the Russian=> hierarchy of the Russian {pg 71}</p> - -<p>there continously since=> there continuously since {pg 71}</p> - -<p>The pre-Chrismas=> The pre-Christmas {pg 112}</p> - -<p>organizer and threatre promoter=> organizer and theatre promoter {pg -127}</p> - -<p>others chosing to remain=> others choosing to remain {pg 130}</p> - -<p>dissident elements in its=> dissident elements in it {pg 157}</p> - -<p>existing today. Jerome Robbin’s=> existing today. Jerome Robbins’s {pg -172}</p> - -<p>to make arrangments=> to make arrangements {pg 177}</p> - -<p>engagment at the Metropolitan=> engagement at the Metropolitan {pg 177}</p> - -<p>a temporay whim=> a temporary whim {pg 181}</p> - -<p>the Diaghleff Ballet=> the Diaghileff Ballet {pg 204}</p> - -<p>the times comes for his appearance=> the time comes for his appearance -{pg 206}</p> - -<p>the spirt of the painter=> the spirit of the painter {pg 218}</p> - -<p>A Beverley Hills group=> A Beverly Hills group {pg 249}</p> - -<p>the threatre programme=> the theatre programme {pg 251}</p> - -<p>make him Ecuardorian=> make him Ecuadorian {pg 269}</p> - -<p>edge of Knightbridge and Kensington=> edge of Knightsbridge and -Kensington {pg 272}</p> - -<p>Elegaic Blues=> Elegiac Blues {pg 274}</p> - -<p>early indocrination=> early indoctrination {pg 290}</p> - -<p>considearble royal interest=> considerable royal interest {pg 306}</p> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class="full" /> -<div 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b/old/68861-h/images/i_256fp_16a.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0dbb733..0000000 --- a/old/68861-h/images/i_256fp_16a.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/68861-h/images/i_256fp_16b.jpg b/old/68861-h/images/i_256fp_16b.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6956346..0000000 --- a/old/68861-h/images/i_256fp_16b.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/old/68861-0.txt b/old/old/68861-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6709b04..0000000 --- a/old/old/68861-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16843 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of S. Hurok Presents; A Memoir of the -Dance World, by Sol Hurok - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: S. Hurok Presents; A Memoir of the Dance World - -Author: Sol Hurok - -Release Date: August 29, 2022 [eBook #68861] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was - produced from images made available by the HathiTrust - Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK S. HUROK PRESENTS; A MEMOIR -OF THE DANCE WORLD *** - - - - |=======================================================| - |Some typographical errors have been corrected. A list | - |follows the text. No attempt has been made to normalize| - |or correct the spelling of names. (Transcriber's note.)| - |=======================================================| - - - - -$4.50 - - S. HUROK PRESENTS - - A MEMOIR OF THE DANCE WORLD - - BY =S. HUROK= - - -In these exciting memoirs, S. Hurok, Impresario Extraordinary, reveals -the incredible inside story of the glamorous and temperamental world of -the dance, a story only he is qualified to tell. From the golden times -of the immortal Anna Pavlova to the fabulous Sadler’s Wells Ballet, -Hurok has stood in the storm-center as brilliant companies and -extravagant personalities fought for the center of the stage. - -Famous as “the man who brought ballet to America and America to the -ballet,” the Impresario writes with intimate knowledge of the dancers -who have enchanted millions and whose names have lighted up the marquees -of the world. Isadora Duncan, Loie Fuller, Lydia Lopokova, Escudero, the -Fokines, Adolph Bolm, Argentinita, Massine, Alicia Markova, Anton Dolin, -Robert Helpmann, Shan-Kar, Martha Graham, Moira Shearer, Margot Fonteyn, -Ninette de Valois, and Frederick Ashton are only a few of the -celebrities - - (_cont’d on back flap_) - - (_cont’d from front flap_) - -who shine and smoulder through these pages. - -The fantastic financial and amorous intrigues that have split ballet -companies asunder come in for examination, as do the complicated -dealings of the strange “Col.” de Basil and his various Ballet Russe -enterprises; Lucia Chase and her Ballet Theatre; and the phenomenal -tours of the Sadler’s Wells companies. - -Although the Impresario’s pen is sometimes cutting, it is also blessed -by an unfailing sense of humor and by his deep understanding that a -great artist seldom exists without a flamboyant temperament to match. - -There are many beautiful illustrations--32 pages. - - -[Illustration: _Hermitage house inc._] - -8 West 13 Street -New York, N. Y. - - - - - S. HUROK PRESENTS - - - - - S. HUROK - - _Presents_ - - - A MEMOIR OF THE DANCE WORLD - - By S. Hurok - - - HERMITAGE HOUSE NEW YORK 1953 - - - COPYRIGHT, 1953, BY S. HUROK - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - Published simultaneously in Canada by Geo. J. McLeod, Toronto - - Library of Congress Catalog Number: 53-11291 - - MANUFACTURED IN THE U.S.A. - AMERICAN BOOK-STRATFORD PRESS, INC., NEW YORK - - - To - The United States of America: - Whose freedom I found as a youth; - Which I cherish; - And without which nothing that has - been accomplished in a lifetime - of endeavour could have come to pass - - - - -CONTENTS - - - 1. Prelude: How It All Began 11 - - 2. The Swan 17 - - 3. Three Ladies: Not from the Maryinsky 28 - - 4. Sextette 47 - - 5. Three Ladies of the Maryinsky--and Others 66 - - 6. Tristan and Isolde: Michel and Vera Fokine 92 - - 7. Ballet Reborn in America: W. De Basil and his Ballets - Russes De Monte Carlo 105 - - 8. Revolution and Counter-Revolution: Leonide Massine - and the New Ballet Russe De Monte Carlo 125 - - 9. What Price Originality? The Original Ballet Russe 138 - -10. The Best of Plans ... Ballet Theatre 147 - -11. Indecisive Interlude: De Basil’s Farewell and a Pair of - Classical Britons 183 - -12. Ballet Climax--Sadler’s Wells and After ... 208 - -13. Epilogue: Unborn Tomorrow 310 - - Index 323 - - - - - S. HUROK PRESENTS - - - - -1. Prelude: How It All Began - - -In the mid-forties, after the publication of my first book, a number of -people approached me with the idea of my doing another book dealing with -the dance and ballet organizations I had managed. - -I did not feel the time was ripe for such a book. Moreover, had I -written it then, it would have been a different book, and would have -carried quite another burden. If it had been done at that time, it would -have been called _To Hell With Ballet!_ - -In the intervening period a good deal has happened in the world of -ballet. The pessimism that prompted the former title has given way on my -part to a more optimistic note. The reasons for this change of heart and -attitude will be apparent to the reader. - -At any rate, this book had to be written. In the volume of memoirs that -appeared some seven years ago I made an unequivocal statement to that -effect, when I wrote: “There’s no doubt about it. Ballet is different. -Some day I am going to write a book about it.” - -Here it is. It is a very personal account, dealing with dance and ballet -as I have seen it and known it. For thirty-four years I have not only -watched ballet, but have had a wide, first-hand experience of and -contact with most of the leading dance and ballet organizations of the -world. This book is written out of that experience. - -Ballet on this continent has come a long way along the road since the -night I bowed silently over the expressive hand of Anna Pavlova as she -stood among the elephants in Charles B. Dillingham’s Hippodrome. I like -to think, with what I hope is a pardonable pride, that I have helped it -on its journey. It has given me greater pleasure than any of the -multifarious other activities of my managerial career. On that side of -the ledger lies the balance. It has also given me a generous share of -heartaches and headaches. But, if I had it all to do over again, there -is little I would have ordered otherwise. - -Because of these things, I believe my point of view is wider than that -of the scholar, the critic, or the enthusiast. Ballet is glamourous. It -is technical and complex; an exacting science. It is also highly -emotional, on the stage, behind the scenes, and often away from the -theatre. Temperament is by no means confined to the dancing artists. - -During the course of these close contacts with the dance, a mass of -material has accumulated; far too much for a single book. Therefore, I -am going to attempt to give a panorama of the high spots (and some of -the low spots, as well) of three-and-one-half decades of managing dance -attractions, together with impressions of those organizations and -personalities that have, individually and collectively, contributed to -make ballet what it is today. - -With a book of this kind a good resolution is to set down nothing one -has not seen or heard for oneself. For the most part I shall try to -stick to that resolution. Whenever it becomes necessary to depart from -it, appropriate credit will be accorded. Without question there are -times when silence is the wiser part of narration, and undoubtedly there -will be times when, in these pages, silence may be regarded, I hope, as -an indication of wisdom. However, there are not likely to be many such -instances, since a devotion to candid avowal will compel the dropping of -the curtain for a few blank moments and raising it again at a more -satisfactory stage only to spare the feelings of others rather than -myself. - -One of the questions I have asked myself is where and how did this -passionate interest in dance arise. I was, as almost every one knows, -born in Russia. Dance and music are a part of the Russian. Russia was -the home of a ballet that reached the highest perfection of its time: an -organization whose influence is felt wherever and whenever a ballet -slipper is donned. Yet, as a country lad, springing from an obscure -provincial town, brought up in my father’s village hardware business and -on his tobacco plantation, I am unable to boast of having been bowled -over, smitten, marked for life by being taken at a tender age to see -the Imperial Ballet. No such heaven-sent dispensation was mine. I was a -long-time American citizen before I saw ballet in Russia. - -Nevertheless, I believe that the fact I was born in Russia not only -shaped my ends, but provided that divinity that changed a -common-or-garden-variety little boy into what I eventually became. -Consciously or unconsciously the Russian adores the artist, denies the -artist nothing. As a normal, healthy, small-town lad, in Pogar, deep in -the Ukraine, I sensed these things rather than understood them. For it -was in Pogar and Staradrube and Gomel, places of no importance, that I -not only came into contact with the Russian “adoration” of the artist; -but, something much more important, I drank in that love of music and -dance that has motivated the entire course of my life. - -The Imperial Ballet was not a touring organization; and Pogar, -Staradrube and Gomel were far too unimportant and inconspicuous even to -be visited by vacationing stars on a holiday jaunt or barnstorming trip. -But the people of Pogar, Staradrube and Gomel sang and danced. - -The people of Pogar (at most there might have been five thousand of -them) were a hard-working folk but they were a happy people, a -fun-loving people, when days work was done. Above all else they were a -hospitable people. Their chief source of livelihood was flax and -tobacco, a flourishing business in the surrounding countryside, which -served to provide the villagers with their means for life, since Pogar -was composed in the main of tradesmen and little supply houses which, in -turn, served the necessaries to the surrounding countryside. - -Still fresh in my mind is the wonder of the changing seasons in Pogar, -always sharply contrasted, each with its joys, each having its tincture -of trouble. The joys remain, however; the troubles recede and vanish. -Winter and its long nights, with the long hauls through the snow to the -nearest railway station, forty frigid miles away: a two-day journey with -the sleighs; the bivouacked nights to rest the horses. I remember how -bitterly cold it was, as I lay in the sleigh or alternately sat beside -the driver, wrapped in heavy clothes and muffled to my eyes; how, in the -driving snow, horses and drivers would sometimes lose the road entirely, -and the time spent in retracing tracks until the posts and pine trees -marking what once had been the edges of the road were found. Then how, -with horses nearly exhausted and our spirits low, we would glimpse the -flickering of a light in the far distance, and, heading towards it, -would find a cluster of little peasant huts. Once arrived, we would -arouse these poor, simple people, sometimes from their beds, and would -be welcomed, not as strangers, but rather as old friends. I remember -how, in the dead of night, still full of sleep, they would prepare warm -food and hot tea; how they would insist on our taking their best and -warmest beds, those on the stove itself, while they would curl up in a -corner on the floor. Then, in the morning, after more hot tea and a -piping breakfast, horses fed and refreshed, they would send us on our -way with their blessing, stubbornly refusing to accept anything in the -way of payment for the night’s lodging. - -This warm, human, generous hospitality of the Russian peasant has not -changed through devastation by war and pestilence. Neither Tsardom nor -Bolshevism could alter the basic humanity of the Russian people, who are -among the kindest and most hospitable on earth. - -The winter nights in Pogar, when the snow ceased falling and the moon -shone on the tinselly scene, were filled with a magic and unforgettable -beauty. The Christmas feasting and festivities will remain with me -always. But the sharpest of all memories is the picture of the Easter -fun and frolic, preceded by the Carnival of Butter-Week. Spring had -come. It mattered little that Pogar’s unpaved roads were knee-deep in -mud; the sun was climbing to a greater warmth: that we knew. We knew the -days were drawing out. It was then that music and dance were greater, -keener pleasures than ever. Every one sang. All danced. Even the lame -and the halt tried to do a step or two. - -We made the _Karavod_: dancing in a circle, singing the old, -time-honored songs. And there was an old resident, who lived along the -main roadway in a shabby little house set back from the lane itself, a -man who might have been any age at all--for he seemed ageless--who was a -_Skazatel_ of folk songs and stories. He narrated tales and sang stories -of the distant, remote past. - -The village orchestra, come Easter time, tuned up out of doors. There -was always a violin and an accordion. That was basic; but if additional -musicians were free from their work, sometimes the orchestra was -augmented by a _balalaika_ or two, a guitar or a zither--a wonderful -combination--particularly when the contrabass player was at liberty. -They played, and we all sang, above all, we sang folk song after folk -song. Then we danced: polkas without end, and the _Crakoviak_; and the -hoppy, jumpy _Maiufess_, while the wonderful little band proceeded to -outdo itself with heartrending vibratos, tremulous tremolos, and -glissandos that rushed up and down all the octaves. - -Spring merged into summer. The lilacs and the violets faded; but the -summer evenings were long and the change from day to night was slow and -imperceptible. It took the sun many hours to make up its mind to -disappear behind the horizon, and even then, after the edge of the -burning disk had been swallowed up by the edge of the Ukranian plain, -its scarlet, orange and pink memories still lingered fondly on the sky, -and on the surface of our little lake, as if it were reluctant to leave -our quiet land. - -It was then the music rose again; the _balalaikas_ strummed, and I, as -poor a _balalaika_ player as ever there was, added tenuous chords to the -melodies. From the near distance came the sound of a boy singing to the -accompaniment of a wooden flute; and, as he momentarily ceased, from an -even greater distance came the thin wail of a shepherd’s pipe. - -There was music at night, there was music in the morning. The people -sang and danced. The village lake, over which the setting sun loved to -linger, gave onto a little stream, hardly more than a brook. The tiny -brook sang on its journey, and the rivulets danced on to the Desna; from -there into the Sozh on its way to Gomel, down the Dnieper past the -ancient city of Kiev, en route to the Black Sea. And in all the towns -and villages it passed, I knew the people were singing and dancing. - -This was something I sensed rather than knew. It was this background of -music and dance that was uppermost in my thoughts as I left Russia to -make my way, confused and uncertain as to ambition and direction. -Despite the impact of the sumptuousness of the bright new world that -greeted me on my arrival in America, I found a people who neither sang -nor danced. (I am not referring to the melodies of Tin-Pan Alley or the -turkey-trot.) I could not understand it. I was dismayed by it. I was -filled with a determination to help bring music and dance into their -lives; to make these things an important part of their very existence. - -The story of the transition to America has been told. The transition was -motivated primarily by an overwhelming desire for freedom. In 1904 I -heard Maxim Gorky speak. Although it was six months later before I knew -who Maxim Gorky was, I have never forgotten what he said. Yet, moved as -I was by Gorky’s flaming utterance, it was Benjamin Franklin who became -my ideal. - -It was some time during Russia’s fateful year of 1905 that, somehow, a -translation of _Poor Richard’s Almanack_ fell into my hands. Franklin’s -ideas of freedom to me symbolized America. There, I knew, was a freedom, -a liberty of spirit that could not be equalled. - -Although I arrived at Castle Garden, New York, after a twenty-three day -voyage, in May, 1906, it was the fact that Philadelphia was the home of -Benjamin Franklin that drew me to that city to make it my first American -abiding place. - -The evidence of these boyhood dreams of America has been proved by my -own experience. - -My dream has become a reality. - - - - -2. The Swan - - -It was The Swan who determined my career in dance and ballet management. -Whatever my confused aspirations on arriving in America, the music and -dance I had imbibed at the folk fonts of Pogar remained with me. - -I have told the story of the gradual clarification of those aspirations -in the tale of the march forward from Brooklyn’s Brownsville. The story -of Music for the Masses has become a part of the musical history of -America. I had two obsessions: music and dance. Music for the Masses had -become a reality. “The Hurok Audience,” as _The Morning Telegraph_ -frequently called it, was the public to which, two decades later, _The -New York Times_ paid homage by asserting I had done more for music than -the phonograph. - -Through the interesting and exciting days of presenting Chaliapine, -Schumann-Heink, Eugene Ysaye, Mischa Elman, Efrem Zimbalist, Tetrazzini, -Tito Ruffo, the question of the dance, my other obsession, and how to do -for it what I had succeeded in doing for music, was always in my mind. - -It was then I met The Swan. - -Anna Pavlova is a symbol of ballet in America; nay, throughout the -world. I knew that here in America were a people who loved the dance, if -they could but know it. The only way for them to know it, I felt, was to -expose them to it in the finest form of theatre dance: the ballet. - -The position that ballet holds today in the affections of the American -public is the result of that exposure, coupled with a strongly -increasing enthusiasm that not only holds its devotees, but brings to it -a constantly growing new audience. But it was not always thus. Prior to -the advent to these shores of Anna Pavlova there was no continuous -development. America, to be sure, had had theatrical dancing -sporadically since the repeal of the anti-theatre act in 1789. But all -of it, imported from Europe, for the most part, had been by fits and -starts. From the time of the famous Fanny Ellsler’s triumphs in _La -Tarantule_ and _La Cracovienne_, in 1840-1842, until the arrival of Anna -Pavlova, in 1910, there was a long balletic drought, relieved only by -occasional showers. - -America was not reluctant in its balletic demonstrations in the Fanny -Ellsler period, when the opportunities for appreciation were provided. -The American tour of the passionately dramatic Fanny Ellsler was made in -a delirium of enthusiasm. She was the guest of President Van Buren at -the White House, and during her Washington engagement, Congress -suspended its sittings on the days she danced. She was pelted with -flowers, and red carpets were unrolled and spread for her feet to pass -over. Even the water in which she washed her hands was preserved in -bottles, so it is said, and venerated as a sacred relic. Her delirious -_Cachucha_ caused forthright Americans to perform the European -balletomaniac rite of toasting her health in champagne drunk from her -own ballet shoes. - -It is necessary now and then, I feel, to mark a time and place for -purposes of guidance. Therefore, I believe that the first appearance of -Anna Pavlova at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York on 28th -February, 1910 is a date to remember, since it may be said to mark the -beginning of the ballet era in our country. - -That first visit was made possible by the generosity of a very great -American Maecenas, the late Otto H. Kahn, to whom the art world of -America owes an incalculable debt. The arrangement was for a season of -four weeks. Her success was instantaneous. Her like never had been seen. -The success was the more remarkable considering the circumstances of the -performance, facts not, perhaps, generally remembered. Giulio -Gatti-Cazzaza, the Italian director of the Metropolitan Opera House, was -not what might be called exactly sympathetic to Otto Kahn’s -determination to establish the Opera House on a better rounded scheme -than the then prevalent over-exploitation of Enrico Caruso. As an -Italian opera director, Gatti-Cazzaza was even less sympathetic to the -dance, and was, moreover, extremely dubious that Metropolitan audiences -would accept ballet, other than as an inconsequential _divertissement_ -during the course of an opera. So opposed to dance was he, as a matter -of fact, that, although he eventually married Rosina Galli, the _prima -ballerina_ of the Metropolitan, he made her fight for ballet every inch -of the way and, on general operatic principle, opposed everything she -attempted to do for the dance. - -Because of his “anti-dance” attitude, and in order to “play safe,” Gatti -ordained that Pavlova’s American debut be scheduled to follow a -performance of Massenet’s opera _Werther_. The Massenet opera being a -fairly long three-act work, its final curtain did not fall until past -eleven o’clock. By the time the stage was ready for the first American -appearance of Pavlova, it was close to eleven-thirty. The audience that -had remained largely out of curiosity rather than from any sense of -expectation left reluctantly at the end. The dancing they had seen was -like nothing ever shown before in the reasonably long history of the -Metropolitan. For her début Pavlova had chosen Delibes’ human-doll -ballet, _Coppélia_, giving her in the role of Swanilda a part in which -she excelled. The triumph was almost entirely Pavlova’s. The role of -Frantz allowed her partner, Mikhail Mordkin, little opportunity for -virtuoso display, the _corps de ballet_ seems to have been -undistinguished, and the Metropolitan conductor, Podesti, most certainly -was not a conductor for ballet, whatever else he might have been. - -Altogether, in this first season, there were four performances of -_Coppélia_, and two of _Hungary_, a ballet composed by Alexandre -Glazounow. Additional works during a short tour that followed, and which -included Boston and Baltimore, were the Bacchanale from Glazounow’s _The -Seasons_, and _La Mort du Cygne_ (_The Dying Swan_), the miniature solo -ballet Michel Fokine had devised for her in 1905, which was to become -her symbol. - -Such was the success, Pavlova returned for a full season in New York and -a subsequent tour the following autumn, bringing Mordkin’s adaptation of -_Giselle_, and another Mordkin work, _Azayae_. - -It was six years later that The Swan floated into my life. In 1916, -Charles B. Dillingham, Broadway theatrical producer with a difference, -was the director of the Hippodrome, the unforgettable Sixth Avenue -institution. Dillingham was “different” for a number of reasons. He was -a theatre man of vision; the Hippodrome, with its fantastic and -colossal entertainments, if not his idea, was his triumph; he was -perhaps the only Broadway manager who had been offered the post of -business manager of the Metropolitan Opera Company, an offer he refused, -but he did accept a commission to make a complete survey of the -Metropolitan’s business affairs. - -For years I had stood in awe of him. - -In 1916, Dillingham engaged Pavlova to appear at the Hippodrome, with -her partner, Alexandre Volinine. Neither the auspices, the billing, nor -the setting could, by any stretch of the imagination, be termed ideal. -Dillingham’s Hippodrome bore the subtitle “The National Amusement -Institution of America,” an appellation as grandiose as the building -itself. The evening’s entertainment (plus daily matinees), of which The -Swan’s appearance was a part, was billed as “The Big Show, the Mammoth -Minstrels, and the Ice Ballet, The Merry Doll.” - -Every night I was there in my favorite place at the back of the house. I -soon learned the time schedule. I could manage to miss the skaters, the -jugglers, the “mammoth” minstrels, the acrobats, the jumbo elephants. I -would arrive a few minutes before Pavlova’s entrance. I watched and -worshipped from afar. I had never met her. “Who was I,” I asked myself, -“to meet a divinity?” - -One night, as the falling curtain cut her off from my view, a hand fell -on my shoulder. It was Dillingham, for whom my admiration remained but -my awe of him had decreased, since, by this time, we were both managers. -He looked at me with a little smile and said, “Come along, Sol. I’m -going back to her dressing-room.” - -The long hoped for but never really expected moment had come. Long had I -rehearsed the speech I should make when and if this moment ever arrived. -Now the time was here and I was dumb. I could only look. - -The Swan extended her hand as Dillingham presented me. She smiled. I -bent low over the world’s most expressive hand. At her suggestion the -three of us went to supper in the Palisades Amusement Park outdoor -restaurant, overlooking the Hudson and upper Manhattan. - -I shall have a few things to say about Pavlova, the artist, about -Pavlova, the _ballerina_. Perhaps even more important is Pavlova, the -woman, Pavlova, the human being. These qualities came tumbling forth at -our first meeting. The impression was ineradicable. As she ate a -prodigious steak, as she laughed and talked, here was a sure and -certain indication of her insatiable love of life and its good things. -One of her tragedies, as I happen to know, is that fullness of life and -love were denied her. - -I already have described this night in detail. I mention it again -because it sets a time and place: the beginnings of the realization of -the other part of my dream. I was already happily embarked on my avowed -purpose of bringing music to the masses. Although I may not have -realized it, that night when we first dined and talked and laughed, when -we rode the roller-coaster, and together danced the fox-trot at the -Palisades Amusement Park, was the beginning of my career in the world of -the dance. - -During Pavlova’s Hippodrome engagement I doubt I missed a performance. I -also saw a good deal of her off stage. A close friendship was formed and -grew. Many suppers together, with Volinine, her partner, and Ivan -Clustine, her ballet-master. - -In the years that followed there developed a long and unforgettable -association. Her first tour under my management, and large parts of -others, we made together; and not, I may say, entirely for business -reasons. Thus did I learn to know the real Anna Pavlova. - -For those of a generation who know Pavlova only as a legend, there is a -large library of books about her as artist and dancer. As for myself, I -can only echo the opinion of J. L. Vaudoyer, the eminent French critic, -when he said: “Pavlova means to the dance, what a Racine is to poetry; a -Poussin to painting; a Gluck to music.” - -At the time of the Pavlova tours, the state of balletic appreciation in -America was certainly not very high. Pioneering in ballet was hard, -slogging work for all concerned, from every point of view. The endless -travel was not only boring but fatiguing. It took all our joint and -several wits to overcome the former, a strong constitution to endure the -latter. Traveling conditions then were infinitely more primitive than -now, making the strain of constant touring all the greater. The reason -that Pavlova willingly endured these grinding tours year after year was -because, in my belief, she simply could not live without working. These -tours were not predicated upon any necessity. Twenty-five years of her -life, at least one-half of it, she spent on trains and ships. Aside from -Ivy House, in London, to which she made brief visits, hotel rooms were -almost her only home. There was no financial necessity for this. - -Then, in addition to all the vicissitudes of travel under such -conditions, there persisted another aspect: the aesthetic inertia of -the public at the whistle-stops demanded every ounce and every facet of -audience persuasion. - -Among certain latter-day critics there exists a tendency not so much to -belittle as to try to underrate Pavlova, the dancer, Pavlova, the -artist; to negate her very great achievement Many of these denigrators -never saw her; still fewer knew her. Let me, for the benefit of the -doubters and those readers of another generation who are in the same -predicament, try to sum her up as she was, in terms of today. - -There exists a legend principally dealing with a certain intangible -quality she is said to have possessed. This legend is not exaggerated. -In any assessment of Anna Pavlova, her company, her productions, I ask -the reader to bear in mind that for twelve years she was the only ballet -pioneer regularly touring the country. She was the first to bring ballet -to hundreds of American communities. I should be the first to admit that -her stage productions, taken by and large, were less effective than are -those of today; but I ask you, at the same time, to bear in mind the -development of, and changes that have taken place in, the provincial -theatre in its progress from the gas-light age, and to try to compare -producing conditions as they were then, with the splendid auditoriums -and the modern equipment to be found in many places today. Compare, if -you will, the Broadway theatre productions of today with those of -thirty-five years ago. - -Anna Pavlova was a firm believer in the “star” system, firmly entrenched -as she was in the unassailable position of the _prima ballerina -assoluta_. Her companies were always adequate. They were completely and -perfectly disciplined. They were at all times reflections of her own -directing and organizing ability. Always there were supporting dancers -of more than competence. Her partners are names to be honored and -remembered in ballet: Adolph Bolm, with whom she made her first tour -away from Imperial Russia and its Ballet: Mikhail Mordkin, Laurent -Novikoff, Alexandre Volinine, and Pierre Vladimiroff; the latter three, -one in the American mid-west, one in Paris, and one in New York, still -founts of technical knowledge and tradition for aspiring dancers. - -In its time and place her repertoire was large and varied. Pavlova was -acquainting a great country with an art hitherto unknown. She was -bringing ballet to the masses. If there was more convention than -experiment in her programmes, it must be remembered that there did not -exist an audience even for convention, much less one ready for -experimentation. An audience had to be created. - -It should be noted that at this time there did not exist as well, so far -as this continent was concerned, as there did in Europe, any body of -informed critical opinion. The newspapers of the wide open spaces did -not have a single dance critic. In these places dance was left to music -and theatre reporters in the better instances; to sports writers on less -fortunate occasions. - -Conditions were not notably better in New York. Richard Aldrich, then -the music critic of _The New York Times_, was completely anti-dance, and -used the word “sacrilege” in connection with Pavlova and her -performances. More sympathetic attitudes were recorded later by W. J. -Henderson of _The Sun_, and by Deems Taylor. About the only New York -metropolitan critic with any real understanding of and appreciation for -the dance was that informed champion of the arts, Carl Van Vechten. - -I have mentioned Pavlova’s title as _prima ballerina assoluta_. She held -it indisputably. In the hierarchy of ballet it is a three-fold title, -signifying honor, dignity, and the establishment of its holder in the -highest rank. With Pavlova it was all these things. But it was something -more. Hers was a unique position. She was the possessor of an absolute -perfection, a perfection achieved in the most difficult of all -schools--the school of tradition of the classical ballet. She possessed, -as an artist, the accumulated wisdom of a unique aesthetic language. -This language she uttered with a beauty and conviction greater than that -of her contemporaries. - -Unlike certain _ballerinas_ of today, and one in particular who would -like ballet-lovers to regard her as the protégé, disciple, and -reincarnation of Pavlova rolled into one, Pavlova never indulged in -exhibitions of technical feats of remarkable virtuosity for the mere -sake of eliciting gasps from an audience. Hers was an exhibition of the -traditional school at its best, a school famed for its soundness. Her -balance was something almost incredible; but never was it used for -circus effects. There was in everything she did an exquisite lyricism, -and an incomparable grace. And I come once again to that intangible -quality of hers. Diaghileff, with whom her independent, individualistic -spirit could remain only a brief time, called her “ ... the greatest -_ballerina_ in the world. Like a Taglioni, she doesn’t dance, but -floats; of her, also, one might say she could walk over a cornfield -without breaking a stalk.” The distinguished playwright, John Van -Druten, years later, used a similar simile, when he described Pavlova’s -dancing “as the wind passing like a shadow over a field of wheat.” - -Does it matter that Pavlova did not leave behind any examples of great -choreographic art? Is it of any lasting importance that her repertoire -was not studded with experiments, but rather was composed of sound, -well-made pieces, chiefly by her ballet-master, Ivan Clustine? Hers was -a highly personal art. The purity and nobility of her style compensated -and more than compensated for any production shortcomings. The important -thing she left behind is an ineffable spirit that inhabits every -performance of classical ballet, every classroom where classical ballet -is taught. As a dancer, no one had had a greater flexibility in styles, -a finer dramatic ability, a deeper sense of character, a wider range of -facial expressions. Let us not forget her successful excursions into the -Oriental dance, the Hindu, the dances of Japan. - -Above and beyond all this, I like to remember the great humanity and -simplicity of Pavlova, the woman. I have seen all sides of her -character. There are those who could testify to a very human side. A -friend of mine, on being taken back stage at the Manhattan Opera House -in New York to meet Pavlova for the first time, was greeted by a -fusillade of ballet slippers being hurled with unerring aim, not at him, -but at the departing back of her husband, Victor Dandré, all to the -accompaniment of pungent Russian imprecations. Under the strain of -constant performance and rehearsal, she was human enough to be ill -tempered. It was quite possible for her to be completely unreasonable. - -On the other hand, there are innumerable instances of her -warmheartedness, her generosity, her tenderness. Passionately fond of -children, and denied any of her own, the tenderness and concern she -showed for all children was touching. This took on a very practical -expression in the home she established and maintained in a _hôtel privé_ -in Paris for some thirty-odd refugee children. This she supported, not -only with money, but with a close personal supervision. - -Worldly things, money, jewelry, meant little to her. She was a truly -simple person. Much of her most valuable jewelry was rarely, if ever, -worn. Most of it remained in a safe-deposit vault in a Broadway bank in -New York City, where it was found only after her death. - -Money was anything but a motivating force in her life. I remember once -when she was playing an engagement in Chicago. For some reason business -was bad, very bad, as, on more than one occasion, it was. The public at -this time was firmly staying away from the theatre. I was in a depressed -mood, not only because expenses were high and receipts low, but because -of the effect that half-empty houses might have on Pavlova and her -spirits. - -While I tried to put on a smiling front that night at supper after the -performance, Pavlova soon penetrated my poker-faced veneer. She leaned -across the table, took my hand. - -“What’s wrong, Hurokchik?” she asked. - -“Nothing,” I shrugged, with as much gallantry as I could muster. - -She continued to regard me seriously for a moment. Then: - -“Nonsense.” She repeated it with her usual finality of emphasis. -“Nonsense. I know what’s wrong. Business is bad, and I’m to blame for -it.... Look here ... I don’t want a penny, not a _kopeck_.... If you can -manage, pay the boys and girls; but as for me, nothing. Nothing, do you -understand? I don’t want it, and I shan’t take it.” - -Pavlova’s human qualities were, perhaps, never more in evidence than at -those times when, between tours and new productions, she rested “at -home,” at lovely Ivy House, in that northern London suburb, Golder’s -Green, not far from where there now rests all that was mortal of her: -East Wall 3711. - -Here in the rambling unpretentiousness of Ivy House, among her -treasures, surrounded by her pets, she was completely herself. Here such -parties as she gave took place. They were small parties, and the -“chosen” who were invited were old friends and colleagues. Although the -parties were small in size, the food was abundant and superlative. On -her American tours she had discovered that peculiarly American -institution, the cafeteria. After rehearsals, she would often pop into -one with the entire company. Eyes a-twinkle, she would wait until all -the company had chosen their various dishes, then select her own; after -depositing her heavily laden tray at her own table, she would pass among -the tables where the company was seated and sample something from every -dish. Pavlova adored good food. She saw to it that good food was served -at Ivy House and, for one so slight of figure, consumed it in amazing -abundance. - -One of these Ivy House parties in particular I remember vividly, for her -old friend, Féodor Chaliapine, that stupendous figure of the world of -the theatre who had played such an important part in my own life and -career, was, on this occasion, the life of the party. He was in a -gargantuan mood. He had already dined before he arrived at Ivy House. I -could imagine the dinner he had put away, for often his table abounded -with such delicacies as a large salmon, often a side of lamb, suckling -pigs, and tureens of _schchee_ and _borscht_. But despite this, he did -ample justice to Pavlova’s buffet and bar. His jokes and stories were -told to a spellbound audience. These were the rare occasions on which I -have seen this great musician, with his sombre, rather monkish face, -really relax. - -This night Pavlova was equally animated, and Chaliapine and she vied -with each other in story-telling. I studied them both as I watched them. -Pavlova had told me of her own origins and first beginnings; about her -father, her mother, her childhood poverty. Here she sat, sprung from -such a humble start, the world’s greatest dancer, the chatelaine of a -beautiful and simple home, the entire world at her feet. - -Facing her was another achievement, the poor boy of Kazan, who, in his -early life, suffered the pangs of hunger and misery which are the common -experience of the Russian poor. He had told me how, as a lad of -seventeen in the town of Kazan without a kopeck in his pocket, day after -day, he would walk through the streets and hungrily gaze into the -windows of the bakers’ shops with hopeless longing. “Hurok,” he had -said, “hunger is the most debasing of all suffering; it makes a man like -a beast, it humiliates him.” - -One of the few serious stories he told that evening was of the time when -he and my childhood idol, Maxim Gorky, were working on the boats on the -Volga and had to improvise trousers out of two pairs of old wheat-sacks -which they tied round their waists. Gorky and Chaliapine were both from -Kazan and of the same age. Tonight, as the party wore on, Chaliapine -sang folk songs, gay songs, sad songs, ribald songs. Loving fine -raiment, tonight he had worn a tall gray top hat. When he arrived and we -had greeted him in the hallway, I caught him watching his reflection in -the long mirror and getting great satisfaction out of it. Now, as he -sang, he became a Tsar, and it was difficult to imagine that he had -never been anything but a great Tsar all his life. - -The party waxed even gayer, the hour grew late. We were all sitting on -the floor: Pavlova, Chaliapine, his wife Masha, and the other guests. -Chaliapine had been gazing at Pavlova for some time. Suddenly he turned -and fixed his eyes on his wife appraisingly. - -“Masha, my dear,” he said, after a long moment, “you don’t object to my -having a child by Annushka?” - -Masha smiled tolerantly and quickly replied: - -“Why don’t you ask her?” - -Chaliapine, with all the dignity and solemnity of a Boris Godunoff, put -the question to Pavlova. Pavlova’s eyes fixed themselves on his, with -equal gravity. - -“My dear Fedya,” she said, quite solemnly, “such matters are not -discussed in public.” - -She paused, then added mischievously: - -“Let us make an appointment. I am leaving for Paris in a day or two.... -Perhaps I shall take you along with me....” - - * * * * * - -In all the dance, Pavlova was my first love. It was from her I received -my strongest and most lasting impressions. She proved and realized my -dreams. To the Western World, and particularly to America, she brought a -new and stimulating form of art expression. She introduced standards, if -not ideas, that have had an almost revolutionary effect. - -Anna Pavlova had everything, both as an artist and as a human being. - - - - -3. Three Ladies: Not From -the Maryinsky - - -A. _A NEGLECTED AMERICAN GENIUS--AND -HER “CHILDREN”_ - -Although my association with her was marked by a series of explosions -and an overall atmosphere of tragi-comedy, it is a source of pride to me -that I was able to number among my dance connections that neglected -American genius, Isadora Duncan. - -It was Anna Pavlova who spurred my enthusiasm to bring Isadora to her -own country, in 1922, a fact accomplished only with considerable -difficulty, as those who have read my earlier volume of memoirs will -recollect. - -Despite the fact they had little in common, Pavlova had a tremendous -respect for this tall American dancer, who abhorred ballet. - -Genius is a dangerous word. Often it is bandied about carelessly and, -sometimes, indiscriminately. In the case of this long-limbed girl from -California it could not be applied more accurately or more precisely, -for she was a genius as a person as well as an artist. She brought to -Europe and to her own America, as well, a new aesthetic. - -One of four children of a rebellious mother who divorced the father she -did not love, Isadora’s childhood was spent in a quasi-Bohemian -atmosphere in her native San Francisco, where her mother eked out a -dubious living by giving music lessons. Isadora was the youngest of the -four. Brother Augustin took to the theatre; Brother Raymond to long -hair, sandals, Greek robes, and asceticism; Sister Elizabeth eventually -took over Isadora’s Berlin School. - -What started Isadora on the road of the dance may never be known; -although it is a well established fact that she danced as a child in San -Francisco, and early in her career traveled across the United States, -dancing her way, more or less, to New York. I am reasonably certain that -her dancing of that period bore little or no relation to that of her -later period. Her early works were, for the most part, innocuous little -pieces done to snippets of music by Romantic composers. Her triumphs -were in monumental works by Beethoven, Wagner, César Franck. - -Her battle was for “freedom”: freedom in the dance; freedom in wearing -apparel; freedom for women; freedom for the body; freedom for the human -spirit. In the dance, ballet was to her a distortion of the human form. -Personally, I suspect the truth was that the strict discipline of ballet -was something to which Isadora could not submit. Inspiration was her -guiding force. She wore Greek draperies when she danced; her feet were -bare. Yet there are photographs of Isadora, taken in the later -’nineties, showing her wearing ballet slippers, and a costume in which -considerable lace is to be seen. It was Europe, I feel, that “freed” her -dance. - -Isadora’s was a European triumph. In turn she conquered Germany, -Austria-Hungary, Russia, Greece. She was hailed and fêted. There was no -place in the American theatre for Isadora’s simplicity and utter -artlessness. It was in Budapest that the tide turned for her, thanks -particularly to an able manager, one Alexander Gross. While I never knew -Mr. Gross, I believe he fulfilled the true manager’s purpose and -function. Gross made an audience for a great artist, an audience where -one did not exist before, until, eventually, all Europe was her -audience. - -I have said that inspiration was Isadora’s guide. She did, of course, -have theories of dance; but these theories were, for the most part, -expressed in vague and general, rather than in precise and particular, -terms. They can be summed up in a sentence. She believed that dance was -life: therefore, the expression of some inner impulse, or urge, or -inspiration. The source of this impulse she believed was centered in -the solar plexus. She also believed she was of tremendous importance. -Her own ideas of her own importance were, in my opinion, sometimes -inflated. - -To her eternal credit it must be noted that she battled against sugary -music, against trivial themes, against artificiality of all sorts. When -her “inspiration” did not proceed directly from the solar plexus, she -found it in nature--in the waves of the sea and their rhythms, in the -simple process of the opening of a flower. - -These frank and simple and desirable objectives, if they had been all, -would not have excited the tremendous opposition that was hers -throughout her lifetime. Nor did this opposition, I believe, spring -solely from her unconventional ideas on love and sex. Isadora insisted -on becoming a citizen of the world, a champion of the world’s less -fortunate, the underprivileged. In doing so she cleared the air of a lot -of nonsense and a lot of nineteenth century prudery which was by way of -being carried over into the twentieth. - -In Europe, in each and every country she visited, she arrayed herself on -the side of the angels, i.e., the revolutionaries. The same is true in -her own country. She shocked her wealthy patrons with demonstrations of -her own particular brand of democracy. - -There was an occasion, during one of her appearances at the Metropolitan -Opera House, when she walked with that especial Isadorian grace to the -footlights and gave the audience, with special reference to the -boxholders, the benefits of the following speech: - -“Beethoven and Schubert,” she said, “were children of the people all -their lives. They were poor men and their great work was inspired by and -belongs to humanity. The people need great drama, music, dancing. We -went over to the East Side and gave a performance for nothing. What -happened? The people sat there transfixed, with tears rolling down their -cheeks. That is how they cared for it. Funds of life and poetry and art -are waiting to spring from the people of the East Side.... Build for -them a great amphitheatre, the only democratic form of theatre, where -everyone has an equal view, no boxes; no balconies.... Why don’t you -give art to the people who really need it? Great music should no longer -be kept for the delight of a handful of cultured people. It should be -given free to the masses. It is as necessary for them as air and bread. -Give it to them, for it is the spiritual wine of humanity.” - -As for the ballet, she continued to have none of it. She once remarked: -“The old-fashioned waltz and mazurka are merely an expression of sickly -sentimentality and romance which our youth and our times have outgrown. -The minuet is but the expression of the unctuous servility of courtiers -at the time of Louis XIV and hooped skirts.” - -Isadora’s European successes led to the establishment of schools of her -own, where her theories could be expounded and developed. The first of -these was in Berlin, and as her pupils, her “children,” developed, she -appeared with them. When she first went to Russia, the controversy she -stirred up has become a matter of ballet history; and it is a matter of -record that she influenced that father of the “romantic revolution” in -ballet, Michel Fokine. - -Russia figured extensively in Isadora’s life, for she gave seasons -there, first in 1905, and again in 1907 and 1912. Then, revolutionary -that she was, she returned to the Soviet in 1921, established a school -there and, in 1922, married the “hooligan” poet, Sergei Essenin. -Throughout her life, Isadora had denounced marriage as an institution, -disavowed it, fought it, bore three children outside it, on the ground -that it existed only for the enslavement of woman. - -There had been three Duncan seasons in America before I brought her, in -1922, for what proved to be her final visit to her native country. The -earlier American series were in 1908, when she danced with Walter -Damrosch and the New York Symphony Orchestra, at the Metropolitan Opera -House, prior to a tour; in 1911, when she again danced with Damrosch; -again in 1916, when she returned to California, early the next year, -after a twenty-two years’ absence. She also visited New York, briefly, -in 1915, impulsively renting a studio at Fourth Avenue and Twenty-third -Street, with the idea of establishing a school. It was during this brief -visit that she made history of a kind by suddenly improvising a dance to -the French national anthem at the Metropolitan Opera House. - -As I have pointed out, enlightened dance criticism, so far as the -newspapers were concerned, in those days was almost non-existent. For -those readers who might be interested, however, there are available, in -the files of _The New York Times_, penetrating analyses of her -performances by the discerning Carl Van Vechten. - -The story of Isadora’s intervening years is marked by light and shadow. -Hers was a life that could not long retain happiness within its grasp. -Snatches of happiness were hers in her brief association with England’s -greatly talented stage designer, that misunderstood genius of the -theatre, Gordon Craig, the son of Ellen Terry, by whom Isadora had a -child; and yet another child by the lover who was known only as -Lohengrin. - -Her passionate love of children was touching. Never was it better -exemplified than by her several schools, her devotion to the girls and -her concern for them. Most of all was it apparent in her selflessness in -her attitude towards her own two children. It is not difficult to -imagine the depth of the tragedy for her when a car in which they were -riding on their way to Versailles toppled into the Seine, and the -children were drowned. A third child, her dream of comfort and -consolation, died at birth. - -It was in an attempt to forget this last tragedy that she brought her -school to New York. That same Otto Kahn, who had made Pavlova’s first -visit to America possible, came to her rescue and footed the bills for a -four weeks’ season at the old Century Theatre, which stood in lower -Central Park West, where Brother Augustin held forth with Greek drama -and biblical verse, and Isadora and the “children” danced. The public -remained away. There was a press appeal for funds with which to -liquidate a $12,000 indebtedness and to provide funds with which to get -Isadora and the “children” to Italy. Another distinguished art patron, -the late Frank Vanderlip, and others came to the rescue with cash and -note endorsements. Thus, once again, Isadora put her native America -behind her in disgust. Her parting shot at the country of her birth was -a blast at Americans living and battening in luxury on their war profits -while Europe bled. - -Her 1916-1917 visit to her home shores was no more auspicious than the -others. She danced, as I have said, at the Metropolitan Opera House. -Lover Lohengrin gave her a magnificent party following the performance, -a soirée that ended in an expensive and scandalous debácle. Isadora sold -her jewels piece by piece, and succeeded in establishing her school at -Long Beach. Quickly the money disappeared, and Gordon Selfridge, the -London equivalent of Marshall Field, paid her passage to London. The -“children,” now grown up into the “Isadorables,” remained behind to make -themselves American careers. - -It was after Isadora’s departure for London, in 1917, that I undertook -to help the six “children” to attain their desires. They were a -half-dozen of the loveliest children imaginable. - -For their American debut as an independent group, we first engaged -George Copeland, specialist in the works of contemporary French and -Spanish composers, and an artist of the first rank, and later, Beryl -Rubinstein, American composer and teacher, and until his recent death -director of the Cleveland Institute, as accompanists. - -Smart New York had adopted the “Isadorables.” The fashionable magazines -had taken them up and had spread Dr. Arnold Genthe’s photographs of -Anna, Lysel, Gretl, Thérése, Erica, and Irma over their pages. Frank -Crowninshield championed them. During a hot June they sold out a -half-dozen performances in Carnegie Hall, which takes some doing at any -time of the year. Following a successful tour, I presented them at the -Metropolitan Opera House, this time with an orchestra. - -The girls, charming, delightful, fresh, were a direct product of -Isadora, for which she used herself as model. Theirs was a reproduction -of Isadora’s art. One of them functions actively today, Maria Thérésa, -giving out a fine, strong, sturdy reflection of Isadora’s training and -ideas. Basically, as an individualist, Isadora was a solo artist. She -made no great effort to build up group dances into a series of linked -dances that result in some form of dance drama. Such mass dances as she -arranged were in imitation of the Greek chorus. Broken down into simple -elements, they were nothing more than lines of girls, all of whom -repeated the same simple movements. Her own creative gifts, which were -magnificent, found their expression in her solo dances, and it is in -this respect Maria Thérésa splendidly carries on. - -It was in Germany that Isadora’s ideas made the deepest impression, and -any legacy she may have left finds its expression in the “free” school -that comes out of that country. If she had no abiding place, Berlin saw -more of her when she was at her best than any other country. It was -there that the term “goddess” was attached to her. Even the sick were -brought to see the performances of the _Göttliche Heilige_ Isadora in -order that they might be cured. The serious German writers were greatly -impressed. Isadora expressed it thus: “The weekly receptions at our -house in Victoria Strasse became the centre of artistic and literary -enthusiasm. Here took place many learned discussions on the dance as a -fine art; for the Germans take every art discussion most seriously, and -give the deepest consideration to it. My dance became the subject of -violent and even fiery debates. Whole columns constantly appeared in all -the papers, sometimes hailing me as a genius of a newly discovered art, -sometimes denouncing me as a destroyer of the real classic dance, i.e., -the ballet.” - -In _Impresario_ I have written about Isadora’s last American tour, -under my management, in all its more lurid aspects. In February, 1923, -she returned to France, and in 1924 went back to Russia with her -poet-husband, Essenin. Not long after, Essenin hanged himself to a hook -on the wall of his room in the Hotel Angleterre, in Leningrad. In 1927, -Isadora returned to Paris, and on 8th July gave her last concert at the -Théâtre Mogador. - -Her last conversation with me in Paris was of the “children.” This time -she was referring to the pupils at her school in Russia. As I listened, -I could only feel that these “children” were to her but symbols of her -own two children wastefully drowned in the Seine. She wanted me to bring -her Russian “children” to America--a visit, as it were, of her own -spirit to her native land which had refused to accept her. - -I promised. - -In 1928, I was able to fulfill that promise by bringing fifteen of them, -chosen by Irma of the “Isadorables,” for a tour. Irma came with them, -presided over them; brought them back for a second tour. Irma now lives -quietly in the Connecticut countryside. - -A twisting scarf, caught in the wheels of the car in which she was -riding, ended the earthly career of a misunderstood American genius. Was -the end deliberate? I only know she longed to die, she with the -passionate love for life. - -A tremendous freedom-loving American, she may, I feel, be called the -first American dancer, in the sense that she brought a new style and a -new manner, away from the accepted form of ballet. I, for one, believe -that Isadora did more than any one else I know for the dance in America, -and received less gratitude and recognition for her contribution. - -Now that she is dead, I feel for her exactly as I always felt. Though we -do not love our friends for one particular quality but as a whole, there -is usually an element which, while the friend is still with us, -especially appeals to us, and the memory of which we most cherish when -he or she is absent for a while or for ever. For me that element in -Isadora was and is the extreme gentleness hidden in her heart of hearts. -Those who knew her only as a combative spirit in the world of the dance -may be astonished at that statement. Yet I hold that gentleness to have -been absolutely fundamental in her character and that not a few of her -troubles were attributable to continuing and exasperating outrage of it. - -There was a superficial side of her that may seem to contradict that -gentleness. She had exasperating eccentricities, stupid affectations. -Her childishness and capriciousness, her downright wilfulness could -drive me nearly to distraction. She could, and often did waste infinite -hours of my time, and her own and others’ money. She lacked discipline -in herself, her life, her work. She could have been less arbitrary in -many things, including her condemnation of ballet. On the other hand, -she had a quality of communication rare indeed in the theatre. Her -faults were, as I have said, superficialities. At base she was a -genuinely gentle person. - -Just because she was gentle she could, her sympathy being aroused, exert -herself to an extraordinary degree and after no gentle fashion on behalf -of those things in which she believed, and of others, particularly -artists. For the same reason, she frequently could not properly exert -herself on her own behalf. She was weary (weary unto death at the last) -when that spring of gentleness, in which some of her best work had its -origin, failed her. Hers was an intellect, in my opinion, of wider -range, of sterner mettle, of tougher integrity, of more persistent -energy and of more imaginative quality than those of her detractors. I -hold because of Isadora’s innate gentleness, and the fact it was so -fundamental a thing in her, being exasperated both by the events of her -life and by her intellect’s persistent commentary upon those events, she -became towards the close so utterly weary and exhausted that any -capacity for a rational synthesis was lost. Hers was a romantic nature, -and a rational synthesis usually proceeds by the tenderness of the heart -working upon the intellect to urge upon it some suspension of judgment, -and not by the hardness of the intellect working upon the heart and -bidding it, in reason’s name, to cease expecting to find things other -and better than they are: the hearts of other humans more tender and -their heads one whit less dense. - -A few words on what has been criticized by many as her “free living.” -Today an unthinking license prevails in many circles. If Isadora’s life -displayed “license” in this sense, it certainly was not an unthinking -“license.” Isadora strongly held theories about personal freedom of -thought and behavior and dared to act according to them. Those theories -may be wrong. That is a problem I have not here space to discuss. But -that, believing in those theories, Isadora acted upon them and did not -reserve them merely for academic discussion, I hold to her eternal -credit. That Isadora did others and herself damage in the process must -be admitted. But I have observed that many “conventional” persons do -others and themselves a great deal of damage without displaying a tithe -of Isadora’s integrity and courage, since they act crudely upon theories -in which they no longer in their heart of hearts believe, or contradict -their theories in captious action for lack of courage to discover new -theories. Let us not forget that “few know the use of life before ’tis -past.” Isadora died before she was fifty, endowed with a temperament -little calculated to make easy the paths of true wisdom, paths which, I -venture to suggest, often contradict the stereotyped notions of them -entertained by those who are unable or unwilling too closely to consider -the matter. To her personal tragedies must be added the depressing -influence of the unfathomable indifference of her countrymen to art and -artists and to herself. - -I take it I have said enough to indicate that such “conventional” -solutions as may occur to some readers were inadmissible in Isadora’s -case, just as inadmissible in fact as they would be in a novel by -Dostoievsky. In any event, she paid to the end for any mistakes she may -have made, and it is not our duty to sit in judgment on her, whether one -theoretically disapproves of her use of what sometimes has been called -the “escape-road.” It is one’s duty to understand, and by understanding -to forgive. - -I have heard it remarked that there was a streak of cruelty in Isadora. -Gentle natures of acute sensibility and strong intelligence, long -exasperated by indifference and opposition to what they hold of -sovereign importance in art and life, are apt to turn cruel and even -vindictive at times. I never witnessed her alleged cruelty or -vindictiveness to any one and I will not go on hearsay. - -One of the great satisfactions of a long career in the world of dance is -that I was able to be of some service to this neglected genius. I can -think of no finer summation of her than the words of that strange, aloof -genius of the British theatre, Gordon Craig, when he wrote: - - “ ... She springs from the Great Race---- - From the line of Sovereigns, who - Maintain the world and make it move, - From the Courageous Giants, - The Guardians of Beauty---- - The Solver of all Riddles.” - - -_B. COLORED LIGHTS AND FLUTTERING SCARVES_ - -It is a far cry from Isadora to another American dancer, whose -“children” I toured across America and back, in 1926. - -Loie Fuller, “the lady with the scarf,” was at that period championed by -her friend, the late Queen Marie of Roumania, when that royal lady -embarked upon a lecture tour of the United States that same year. Loie -Fuller was loosely attached to the royal entourage. - -“La Loie” had established a school in Paris, and wanted to exhibit the -prowess of her pupils. I was inveigled into bringing them quite as much -by Loie Fuller’s dynamic, active manager, Mrs. Bloch, as I was by the -aging dancer herself. - -Loie Fuller was something of a phenomenon. Born in Chicago, in 1862, her -first fame was gained as a child temperance lecturer in the mid-west. -According to her biographers, she took some dancing lessons, but found -the lessons too difficult and abandoned them after a short time. -Switching to the study of voice, she gave up her youthful Carrie Nation -attacks on alcohol and obtained a singing part in a stage production. As -the story goes, while she was appearing in this stage role, a friend in -India made her a gift of a long scarf of very light weight silk. Playing -with her present, watching it float through the air with the greatest of -ease, she found her vocation. It was as simple as that. - -Here was something new: a dance in which a great amount of fluttering -silk was kept aloft, the while upon it there constantly played -variegated lights, projected by what in the profession is known as a -“color-wheel,” a circular device containing various colored media, -rotated before an arc-lamp. Thus was born the _Serpentine Dance_. - -Here was no struggle on the part of the artist to find her medium of -expression, no seeking for a new technique or slogging effort perfecting -an old one; no hours spent sweating at the _barre_; no heartache. Loie -Fuller was not concerned with steps, with style, with a unique and -individual quality of movement. Loie Fuller had a scarf. Loie Fuller had -an instantaneous success. Her career was made on the _Serpentine Dance_. -But she also had one other inspiration. A “sunrise” stage effect that -she used was mistaken by the audience as a dance of fire, as the light -rays touched her flowing scarves and draperies. “La Loie” was not one to -miss a chance. She gathered her electricians about her--for in the early -days of stage lighting with electricity nothing was impossible. The -revolving “light-wheels” were increased in number, as were the -spot-lights. - -Since all this happened in Paris, Loie Fuller’s _Danse de Feu_ became to -France what the _Serpentine Dance_ had been to America. The French -adopted her as their own. Widely loved, she became “La Loie.” Her stage -arrangements were often startling; they could not always be called -dancing. The arms and feet of her “children” were always subordinated to -the movements of the draperies. So tricky was the business of the -draperies that it is said that none of her designers or seamstresses -were permitted to know more than a small part of their actual -construction. - -Her imitators were many, with the result that, for a time, the musical -comedy stages of both Europe and America had an inundation of -illuminated dry goods. It was the “children” who kept “La Loie’s” -serpentine and fire dances alive. - -When Loie Fuller suggested the American tour, the idea interested me -because of the novelty involved. It was, incidentally, my only -“incognito” tour. I accepted an invitation from Queen Marie of Roumania -to visit her at the Royal Palace in Bucharest to discuss the proposed -tour with Her Majesty and Loie Fuller, who was a close friend and -confidante of the Queen. The tour was in the interest of one of the -Queen’s pet charities and, moreover, it had diplomatic overtones. -Naturally, under the circumstances, no managerial auspices were credited -on the programmes. - -In addition to the purely Loie Fuller characteristic numbers, the Loie -Fuller Dancers, on this tour, offered _Some Dance Scenes from the Fairy -Tale of Her Majesty Queen Marie’s_ “_The Lilly of Life_,” as _presented -at the Grand Opera, Paris_. - -Apart from this, the “children” had all the old Loie Fuller tricks, and -a few new ones. Their dance vocabulary was far from extensive, but there -was a pleasant enough quality about it. - -When I made the tour, in association with Queen Marie, the “children” -were, to put it kindly, on the mature side; and it took a great deal of -their dramatic, vital and dynamic managers drive to keep the silks -fluttering aloft. Mrs. Bloch was a remarkable woman, who had handled the -“children” for Loie Fuller a long time. - -The tour of the Loie Fuller Dancers is not one of my proudest -achievements; but I know the gay colours, the changing lights brought -pleasure to many. - -Years later, on a visit to Paris, I received a telephone call from Mrs. -Bloch, requesting an appointment. It was arranged for the following day. -At the appointed hour I went down to the foyer of the Hotel Meurice to -await her coming. - -Some minutes later, I observed an elderly lady, supported by a cane, -enter and cross the foyer, walking slowly as the aged do, and using her -cane noticeably to assist her. I paid scant attention until, from where -I sat near the desk, I overheard her explaining to the _conciérge_ that -she had a “rendezvous” with Monsieur Hurok. - -I simply did not recognize the human dynamo of 1926. A quarter of a -century had slipped by. Much of that time, she told me, she had spent in -Africa. Despite the change in her physical appearance, despite the toll -of the years, the flame still burned within her. - -Her mission? To try to get me to bring the Loie Fuller Dancers to -America for another tour. - -As I observed the changes that had taken place in their manager, I could -not help visualizing what twenty-five years must have done to the -“children.” - - -C. _A TEUTONIC PRIESTESS_ - -My dance associations in what I may call my “early middle” period led me -into excursions far afield from that form of dance expression which is -to me the most completely satisfying form of theatrical experience. - -For the sake of the record, let us set the date of this period as 1930. -Surely there have been few in the history of the dance whose approach to -the medium was so foreign to and so different from the classical ballet, -where lie my deepest interests and my chief delight, than that Teutonic -priestess, Mary Wigman. - -When I brought Wigman to America, shortly after the Great Crash, she was -no longer young. She had been born in Germany, in 1886, and could hardly -have been called a “baby ballerina.” Originally a pupil of Emile Jacques -Dalcroze, the father of Eurhythmics, whose pupils in a “demonstration” -had kindled Wigman’s interest in the dance, she did not remain long with -him. Dalcroze himself, at this stage, apparently had little interest in -dancing. However, he established certain methods which proved of -interest to certain gifted dancers. The Dalcroze basis was musical, and -his chief function was to foster a feeling for music in his pupils. -Music frustrated, handicapped, restricted her, Wigman felt. -Individualist that she was, she left her teacher in order to work out -her own dance destiny. There followed a period of some uncertainty on -her part, and, for a time, she became a pupil of the Hungarian teacher, -Rudolf von Laban, who laid down in pre-war Germany the foundations for -modern dance. Unlike Isadora Duncan, Laban had no aversion to ballet. As -a matter of fact, he liked much of it, was influenced by it; was -impressed by the Diaghileff Ballet, was friendly with Diaghileff, and -became an intimate of Michel Fokine. His later violent reaction from -ballet was certainly not based on lack of knowledge of it. - -At the Laban school, Wigman collaborated with him, and having a streak -of choreographic genius, was able to put some of Laban’s theories into -practical form. However, Mary Wigman’s forceful personality was greater -than any school and, in 1919, she broke away from Laban, and formed a -school of her own. She abandoned what were to her the restricting -influences of formal music, as Isadora had abandoned clothing -restrictions. A dancer of tremendous power, like Isadora she had an -overwhelming personality. Again, like Isadora, all this had a tendency -to make her pupils only pale imitations of herself. Wigman’s public -career, a secondary matter with her, actually began in Dresden, in 1918, -with her _Seven Dances of Life_. Dresden was her temple. Here the -Teutonic Priestess of the Dance presided over her personal religion of -movement. German girls were joined by Americans. The disciples grew in -number and spread out through Germany like proselyting missionaries. -Wigman groups radiated the gospel until one found schools and factories -and societies turning out _en masse_ for “demonstrations” of the Wigman -method. I have said that Wigman found music a deterrent to her method. - -On the other hand, one of the most important features of her “school” -was a serious, thorough, Germanic research into the question of what she -felt was the proper musical accompaniment for dance. Her pupils learned -to devise their own rhythmic accompaniment. In her show pieces, at any -rate, Wigman’s technique was to have the music for the dance composed -simultaneously with the creation of the dance movements--certainly a new -type of collaboration. - -In addition to forming a “_schule_,” where great emphasis was laid on -“_spannungen_,” perhaps best explained as tensions and relaxations, she -also created a philosophical cult in that strange hot-house that was -pre-war Germany, with an intellectualized approach to sex. - -I had known about her and her work long before I signed a contract with -her for the 1930-1931 season. Pavlova had talked to me about her and had -aroused my curiosity and interest; but I was unable to imagine what -might be America’s reaction to her. I was turning the idea over in my -mind, when there appeared at my office,--in those days in West -Forty-second Street, overlooking Bryant Park,--a young and earnest -enthusiast to plead her case. His name was John Martin. - -In an earlier chapter I have pointed out the low estate of dance -criticism of that period. In its wisdom, the _New York Times_ had, -shortly before the period of which I now write, taken tentative steps to -correct this deficiency by creating a dance department on the paper, -with John Martin engaged to report the dance. Martin’s earnest and -special pleading on behalf of Mary Wigman moved me and, as always, eager -to experiment and present something new and fresh, I decided to cast the -die. - -The effect of my first announcement of her coming was a bit -disconcerting. The first to react were the devotees. There was a -fanaticism about them that was disturbing. It is one thing to have a -handful of vociferous idolaters, and quite another to be able to fill -houses with paying customers night after night. - -When I met Wigman at the pier on her arrival in New York, I greeted a -middle-aged muscular Amazon, a rather stuffy appearing Teutonic Amazon, -wearing a beaver coat of dubious age, and a hat that had seen better -days. But what struck me more forcibly than the plainness of her apparel -was the woman herself. She greeted me with a warm smile; her gray eyes -were large, frank, and widely set; and from beneath the venerable and -rather battered hat, fell a shock of thick, wavy brown hair. She spoke -softly, deeply, in a completely unaccented English with a British -intonation. - -There was no ballet company with her, no ship-load of scenery, -properties and costumes. Her company was made up of two persons in -addition to herself: a lesser Amazon in the person of Meta Mens, who -presided over Wigman’s costumes--one trunk--and her percussion -instruments--tam-tams, Balinese gongs, and a fistful of reedy wind -instruments; the other, a lanky, pale-faced chap with hyper-thyroid -eyes, Hanns Hastings, who composed and played such music as Wigman used. - -On the day before the opening, I gave a party at the Plaza Hotel as a -semi-official welcome on the part of our American dancers, among whom -were included that great pioneer of our native contemporary dance, -Martha Graham, together with Doris Humphrey, Charles Weidman, and, of -course, that champion of the modern dance, John Martin. - -Much depended upon Wigman’s first New York performance. A tour had been -arranged, but not booked. There is a decided difference in the terms. In -the language of the theatre, a tour is not “booked” until the contracts -have been signed. The preliminary arrangements are called “pencilling -in.” The pencil notations are inked only when signatures are attached to -the contracts. If the New York _première_ fizzled, there would be no -inking. I had taken the Forty-sixth Street Theatre, and the publicity -campaign under the direction of my good friend, Gerald Goode, had been -under way for weeks. - -It was a distinguished audience and a curious one that assembled in the -Forty-sixth Street Theatre for the opening performance. It was an -enthusiastic one that left at the end. I had gone back stage before the -curtain rose to wish Wigman well, but the priestess was unapproachable. -As she did before each performance, she entered the “silence.” Under no -circumstances did she permit any disturbance. She would arrive at the -theatre a long time before the scheduled time of the curtain’s rise, -and, in her darkened dressing-room, lie in a mystic trance. Later she -danced as one possessed. - -If the opening night audience was enthusiastic, which it was, I am -equally sure some of its members were confused. At later performances, -as I stood in my customary position at the rear of the auditorium as the -public left the theatre, I was not infrequently pressed by questions. -These questions, however they may have been phrased, meant the same -thing. “What do the dances mean?” “What is she trying to say?” “What -does it all signify?” I am not easily embarrassed, as a rule. The -constant reiteration of this question, however, proved an exception. - -For the benefit of a generation unfamiliar with the Wigman dance, I -should explain that her dances were, as she called them, “cycles.” In -other words, her performances consisted of groups of dances with an -alleged relationship: a relationship so difficult to discern, however, -that I suspect it must have existed only in Wigman’s mind. The one dance -that stands out most vividly in my mind is one she called _Monotonie_. -In _Monotonie_, Wigman stood in the dead center of the stage. Then she -whirled and whirled and whirled. As the whirling continued she was first -erect, then slowly crouching, slowly rising until she was erect again; -but always whirling, the while a puny four-note phrase was endlessly -repeated. Through a sort of self-hypnosis, her whirling had an hypnotic -effect on her. In a sort of mystic trance herself, Wigman succeeded, up -to a point, in inducing a similar reaction on her public. - -But what did it mean? I did not know, but I was determined to find out. -Audience members, local managers, newspaper men were badgering me for an -answer. To any query that I put to Wigman, her deep-throated reply was -always the same: - -“Oh, the meaning is too deep; I really can’t explain it.” - -It was much later, during the course of the tour following the New York -season, that I arrived at the “meaning” of Wigman’s dances, and that -will be told in its proper place. - -After the tumult and the shouting had died that opening night at the -Forty-fourth Street Theatre, I took Wigman to supper with some friends. -As we left the theatre together, Wigman was still in her trance; but, as -the food was served, she came out of it with glistening eyes and a -rapid-fire sort of highly literate chatter, in the manner of one sliding -back to earth from the upper world. - -The party over and Wigman back in her hotel, I sat up to await the press -notices. They were splendid. No one dared describe her “meaning,” but -all were agreed that here was a dynamic force in dance that drove home -her “message.” The notice I awaited most eagerly was that of the _New -York Times_. The first City Edition did not carry it, something which I -attributed to the lateness of the final curtain. I waited for the Late -City Edition. Still not a line about Wigman. I simply could not -understand. - -For years I had struggled to have the dance treated with respect by the -press. Through the Pavlova days I talked and tried to convert editors to -a realization of its importance. Any readers who are interested have -only to turn up the files of their local newspapers and read the -“reviews” of the period of the Pavlova and Diaghileff companies to find -that ballet, in most cases, was “covered” by disgruntled music critics, -who had been assigned, in many cases obviously against their wills, to -review. You would find that the average music critic either overtly -disliked ballet and had said so, or else treated it flippantly. - -At the time of Wigman’s arrival in America, the ice had been broken, as -I have said, by the appointment of John Martin at the head of a -full-time dance department at the _New York Times_. Mary Watkins, -eager, enthusiastic, informed, was fulfilling a like function on the -_New York Herald-Tribune_. Thus dance criticism was on its way to -becoming professional; and the men and women of knowledge and taste and -discernment who criticize dance today, I cannot criticize. For I have -respect for the professional. - -The _New York Times_ review of Wigman’s opening performance did not -appear. Since John Martin had urged me to bring Wigman to America, it -was the more baffling. Prior to Martin’s engagement by the _New York -Times_, that remarkable and beloved figure, William (“Bill”) Chase, for -so many years the editor of the music department of the _Times_ and -formerly the music critic of the _Sun_, and to the end of his life my -very good friend, had “reported” the dance. Since he insisted he knew -nothing about it, he never attempted to criticize it. I had frequently -suggested to “Bill” that the _Times_ should have a qualified person at -the head of a _bona fide_ dance department. Eventually John Martin was -engaged, and I am happy to have been able to play a part in the -beginnings of the change on the part of the American press. - -I have mentioned that the change was gradual, for Martin’s articles at -first were unsigned and had no by-line. In the early days, Martin merely -reported on dance events. To be sure, at that time, there was little -enough to report. Then Leonide Massine was brought to the Roxy Theatre -by the late Samuel Rothapfel to stage weekly presentations of ballet; -and then there was something about which to write. Since then John -Martin has helped materially to spread the gospel of ballet and dance. - -It was at approximately the Massine-Roxy stage of the dance criticism -development that I searched the _Times_ for the Wigman notice. Most of -the newspapers carried rave reviews, and because they did, I was the -more mystified, since in the _Times_ there was not so much as a mention -even that the event had taken place. However, out-of-town friends, -including the late Richard Copley, well-known concert manager, -telephoned me from New Jersey to congratulate me on the glowing review -they had read in the Suburban Edition, and read it to me over the -telephone. There were dozens of other calls from suburban communities to -the same effect. - -I called the editorial department of the _Times_ to enquire about its -omission from the New York City edition. There was some delay, but -eventually I was informed that it would seem that the night city editor -had read John Martin’s story in the Suburban Edition, saw that it -carried no by-line, no signature; read its glowing and enthusiastic -account of the Wigman _première_; and because it was so fulsome in its -enthusiasm, assumed it was merely a piece of press-agent’s ballyhoo, and -forthwith pulled it out of all other editions. - -Armed with this information, I proceeded to bombard the _Times_ with -protests. One of these was directly to the head of the editorial -department, whom I asked to reprint the notice that had been dropped. I -was rather summarily told I was not to try to dictate to the _Times_ -what it should print. By now utterly exasperated, I got hold of my -friend “Bill” Chase, who drily counselled me to “keep my shirt on.” -Chase immediately went on a tour of investigation. He called me back to -tell me that the Board of Editors at their daily meeting had gone into -the matter but were unwilling to print the notice I had asked, since -they had been “scooped” by the other newspapers and it was, therefore, -no longer news: but, they had decided that, in the future, Martin would -have a by-line. Then Chase added, with that wry New England humour of -his for which he was famous, that, with the possession of a by-line, no -editor would dare “kill” a review. It might, of course, be cut for -space, but never “killed.” - -The next Sunday the readers of the _New York Times_ read John Martin’s -notice of Mary Wigman’s first performance, and it was uncut. But it was -a paid advertisement, bearing, in bold-faced type, the heading: “_THE -NEWS THAT’S FIT TO REPRINT_.” - -As a result of the New York _première_, the “pencilled” tour was -“inked,” and I traveled most of the tour with the Priestess. Newspaper -men continued to demand to know the “meaning” of her dances. Since -Wigman, most literate of dancers, refused any explanation, I made up my -own. I told a reporter that Wigman was continuing and developing the -work of Isadora Duncan. The reporter wrote his story. It was printed. -Wigman read it without comment. From then on, however, Wigman’s reply to -all queries on the subject was: “Where Isadora Duncan stopped, there I -began.” - -The quickly “inked” tour was a success beyond any anticipations I had -had, and a second tour was booked and played with equal success. The -mistake I made was when I brought her back for a third season, and with -a group of her disciples. America would accept one Wigman; but twenty -husky, bulky Teutonic Amazons in bathing suits with skirts were more -than our public could take. - -Moreover, the group was not typical of the Wigman “schule” at anything -like its best. As a matter of fact, it was a long way from the Teutonic -Priestess’s highest standards. - - * * * * * - -It was after the war. Mrs. Hurok and I were paying our first post-war -visit to Switzerland, and stopped off at Zurich. My right-hand bower, -Mae Frohman, had come to Zurich to join us. We learned that Wigman was -there as well, giving master-classes in association with Harald -Kreutzberg. Our initial efforts to find her were not successful. - -Mrs. Hurok, Miss Frohman and I were at dinner. We were unaware that -another diner in the same restaurant was Mary Wigman. It was Miss -Frohman who recognized her as she was leaving the room. Wigman had -changed. Time had taken its inevitable toll. The meeting was a touching -one. We all foregathered in the lounge for a talk. Things were not easy -for her; nor was conversation exactly smooth. Her Dresden “_schule_” had -been commandeered by the Nazis. She was now living in the Russian sector -of Germany. It had been very difficult for her to obtain permission from -the Russian authorities to come to Zurich for her master-classes. She -was obliged to return within a fixed period. She preferred not to talk -about the war. Conversation, as I have said, was not easy. But there are -things which do not require saying. My sympathies were aroused. The -great, strong personality could never be quite erased, nor could the -fine mind be utterly stultified. - -I watched and remembered a great lady and a goodly artist. It is -gratifying to me to know that she is now resident in the American zone -of Berlin, and able to continue her classes. - - - - -4. Sextette - - -_A. A SPANISH GYPSY_ - -Such was the influence of The Swan on my approach to dance that, -although she was no longer in our midst, I found myself being guided -subconsciously by her direction. There were arrangements for a tour of -Pavlova and a small company, for the season 1931-1932, not under my -management. Death liquidated these arrangements. Had the tour been made, -Pavlova was to have numbered among her company the famous Spanish gypsy -dancer of the 1930’s, Vicente Escudero, one of the greatest Iberian -dancers of all time. - -Pavlova had championed Duncan and Wigman. I had brought them. I -determined to bring Escudero to help round out the catholicity of my -dance presentations. Spanish dancing had always intrigued me, and I had -a soft spot for gypsies of all nationalities. - -Escudero, who had been the partner of the ineffable Argentina, had -earned a reputation which, to understate, bordered on the picturesque. -Small, wiry, dark-skinned, with an aquiline nose, he wore his kinky, -glossy black hair long to cover a lack-lustre bald spot. He, like most -Spanish gypsies, claimed descent from the Moors, and there was about him -more of the Arab than the Indian. As I watched him I could understand -how he must have borne within him the stigma of the treatment Spain had -meted out to his people; for it was not until the nineteenth century -that the gypsies in Spain had any freedom at all. Until then, they were -pariahs, hounded by the people, hounded by the law. Only within the last -fifty-or-so years has the Spanish gypsy come into his own with the -universal acknowledgment of being a creative artist, the originator of a -highly individual and beautiful art. - -Escudero was a Granada gypsy, a “_gitano_” from the white caves hollowed -out in the Sacred Mountain. I point this out in order to distinguish him -from his Sevillian cousins, the “_flamenco_.” His repertoire ranged -through the _Zapateado_, the _Soleares_, the _Alegrias_, the _Bulerias_, -the _Tango_, the _Zamba_. His special triumph was the _Farruca_. - -It was on the 17th January, 1932, that I introduced Vicente Escudero to -New York audiences at the 46th Street Theatre, where Wigman had had her -triumph. A number of New York performances were given, followed by a -brief tour, which, in turn, was succeeded by a longer coast-to-coast -tour the following year. His company consisted of four besides himself: -a pianist, a guitarist; the fiery, shrewish Carmita, his favorite; and -the shy, gentle-voiced Carmela. - -But it was Escudero’s sinister, communicative personality that drew and -held audiences. His gypsy arrogance shone in his eyes, in the audacious -tilt of his flat-brimmed hat, in his complete assurance; above all it -stood out in his strutting masculinity. Eschewing castanets, for gypsy -men consider their use effeminate, he moved sinuously but majestically, -with the clean heel rhythm and crackling fingers that marked him as the -outstanding gypsy dancer of his day and, quite possibly, of all time. -For accompaniment there was no symphony orchestra, only the hoarse -syncopation of a single guitar. Through half-parted lips shone the -gleaming ivory of small, perfectly matched teeth. - -For two successful seasons I toured Escudero across America, spreading a -new and thrilling concept of the dance of Spain to excited audiences, -audiences that reached a tremendous crescendo of fervor at the climax of -his _Farruca_. No theatrical _Farruca_ this, but a feline, animal dance -straight from the ancient Spanish gypsy camp. - -I had been forewarned to be on my guard. However, though his arrival in -America had been preceded by tall tales of his completely unmanageable -nature, Escudero proved to be one of the simplest, most tractable -artists I ever have handled. There was on his part an utter freedom from -the all too usual fits of “temperament,” a complete absence of the -hysterics sometimes indulged in--and all too often--by artists of lesser -talents. I happen to know, from other sources than Escudero, that he -took a dim view of American food, hotels, and the railway train -accommodations in the remoter parts of this great land. He never -complained to me. Escudero had his troubles with Carmita and Carmela, as -they vied with each other for position and his favors. But these -troubles never were brought to my official attention. Like the head of a -gypsy camp, he was the master. He ruled his little troupe and -distributed both favors and discipline. - -In 1935, Escudero made his last American appearance, when I presented -the Continental Revue at the Little Theatre, now the New York Times -Hall. Among those appearing with Escudero in this typical European -entertainment were the French _chanteuse_, Lucienne Boyer, Mrs. Hurok, -Lydia Chaliapine, Rafael, together with that comic genius, Nikita -Balieff, as master of ceremonies. - -Other and younger dancers of Spain continue to spread the gospel of the -Iberian dance. I venture to believe that, highly talented though many of -them are, I may say with incontrovertible truth, there has been only one -Escudero. - - -_B. A SWISS COMEDIAN_ - -In 1931, a slight, short Swiss girl named Trudi Schoop with the dual -talents of a dancer and a comedienne--a combination not too -common--organized a company in her native Switzerland. She named it the -Trudi Schoop Comic Ballet. - -The Paris _Archives Internationales de la Danse_, formed in 1931 by Rolf -de Maré, the Swedish dance patron who was responsible for the Swedish -Ballet in the early ’twenties, in 1932 sponsored the first International -Choreographic Competition in Paris. The prize-winning work in this -initial competition was won by Kurt Joos for his now famous _The Green -Table_. The second prize went to this hitherto almost unknown Trudi -Schoop, for her comic creation, _Fridolin_. - -In 1936, I brought her with her company for their first tour. Here again -was a fresh and new form of dance entertainment. Tiny, with a shock of -boyishly cut blonde hair, Trudi Schoop had the body of a young lad, and -a schoolboy’s face alternating impishness with the benign innocence of -the lad caught with sticky fingers and mouth streaked with jam. - -Her repertoire consisted of theatre pieces rather than ballets in the -accepted sense of the term. Trudi herself was a clown in the sense -Charles Chaplin is a clown. Her range was tremendous. With a company -trained by her in her own medium of gentle satire, she was an immediate -success. Her productions had no décor, and there was a minimum of -costume. But there was a maximum of effective mime, of wit, of satire. -Her brother, Paul Schoop, was her composer, conductor, accompanist. - -Trudi Schoop’s outstanding success was the prize-winning work, -_Fridolin_. Schoop was Fridolin; Fridolin was Schoop. Fridolin was an -innocent boy in a black Sunday suit and hat who stumbled and bumbled -through a world not necessarily the best of all possible, wringing peals -of laughter out of one catastrophe after another. - -Other almost equally happy and successful works in her repertoire -included _Hurray for Love_; _The Blonde Marie_, the tale of a servant -girl who eventually becomes an operatic diva; and _Want Ads_, giving the -background behind those particularly humorous items that still appear -regularly in the “Agony Column” of _The Times_ (London); you know, the -sort of announcement that reads: “Honourable Lady (middle fifties) seeks -acquaintance: object matrimony.” - -The critical fraternity dubbed her the “funniest girl in the world”; the -public adored her, and theatre folk made her their darling. Prior to the -outbreak of the war, I sent Trudi and her Swiss Comedians across -America. When, at last, war broke in all its fury, Schoop retired to her -native Switzerland and disbanded her company. She did not reassemble it -until 1946; and in 1947 I brought them over again for a long tour of the -United States and Canada. On this most recent of her tours, in addition -to her familiar repertoire, we made a departure by presenting an -evening-long work, in three acts, called _Barbara_. This was, so far as -I know, the first full-length work to be presented in dance form in many -cities and towns of the North American continent. Full length, of -course, in the sense that one work occupied a full evening for the -telling of its story. This is another form of dance pioneering in which -I am happy to have played a part. - -Today Trudi Schoop, who has retired from the stage, lives with her -sister in Hollywood. - - -_C. A HINDU DEITY_ - -Back in 1924, in London, I had watched a young Hindu dancer with Pavlova -in her ballet, _Hindu Wedding_. I was struck by the quality of his -movement and by the simple beauty of the dance of India. - -His name was Uday Shan-Kar. From Pavlova I learned that he was the son -of a Hindu producer of plays, that he had been trained by his father, -and had worked so successfully in collaboration with him in the -production of native Hindu mimed dramas that Pavlova had persuaded -Shan-Kar to return to London to assist her in the production of an -Indian ballet she had in mind, based on the Radna-Krishna legend. -Pavlova succeeded in persuading him to dance in the work as well. - -Later I saw him at the Paris Colonial Exposition, where, with his -company which he had organized in India, he made a tremendous -impression, subsequently achieving equal triumphs in England, -Austria-Hungary, Germany and Switzerland. At the Paris Exposition I saw -long Hindu dramas, running for hours, beautifully and sumptuously -produced, but played with the greatest leisure. Since I am committed to -candor in this account of my life in the dance, I must admit that I saw -only parts of these danced dramas, took them in relays, for I must -confess mine is a nature that cannot remain immobile for long stretches -at a time before a theatre form as unfamiliar as the Indian was to me -then. - -Gradually I came to know it, and I realized that in India formal mime -and dance are much more a part of the life of the people than they are -with us. With the Indian, dance is not only an entertainment, but a -highly stylised stage art; it plays an important part in religious -ritual; it is a genuinely communal experience. - -As night after night I watched parts of these symbolic dance dramas of -Hindu mythology, fascinated by them, I searched for a formula whereby -they might be made palatable and understandable to American audiences. I -was certain that, as they were being danced in Paris, to music strange -and unfamiliar to Western ears, going on for hours on end, the American -public was not ready for them, and would not accept them. - -I put the matter straight to Shan-Kar. I told him I wanted to bring him -and his art to America. He told me he wanted to come. Possessed of a -fine scholarship, a magnificent three-fold talent as producer, -choreographer, and dancer-musician, he also possessed to a remarkable -degree a sense of theatre showmanship and an intuition that enabled him -to grasp and quickly understand the space and time limitations of the -non-oriental theatre. - -Shan-Kar’s association with Pavlova, together with his own fine -intelligence, made his transition from the dance theatre of the Orient -to an adaptation of it acceptable to the West a comparatively simple -task for him. - -His success in America exceeded my most optimistic predictions. Until -the arrival of Shan-Kar, America had not been exposed to very much of -the dance of India. Twenty years before, the English woman known as -Roshanara had had a vogue in esoteric circles with her adaptations of -the dances of India and the East. On the other hand, the male dancing of -India was virtually unknown. As presented by Shan-Kar, this was revealed -in an expressive mime, with an emphasis on the enigmatic face, the flat -hand, using the upper part of the body as the chief medium of -expression, together with the unique use of the neck and shoulders, not -only for expression, but for accentuation of rhythm. New, also, to our -audiences were the spread knees, a type of movement exclusive to the -male Indian dancer. - -Here was an art and an artist that seemingly had none of the -conventional elements of a popular success. About him and his -presentations there was nothing spectacular, nothing stunning, nothing -exciting. Colour was there, to be sure; but the dancing and the general -tone of the entertainment was all of a piece, on a single level, -soothing, and with that elusive, almost indefinable quality: the -serenity of the East. - -Our associations, save for a brief period of mistrust on my part, have -always been pleasant. In addition to the original tour of 1932, I -brought him back in the season 1936-1937, and again in 1938-1939. The -war, of course, intervened, and I was unable to bring him again until -the season 1949-1950. - -At the outbreak of the war, through the benefaction of the Elmhirst -Foundation of Dartington Hall, England, an activity organized by the -former Dorothy Straight, Shan-Kar was enabled to found a school for the -dance and a center for research into Hindu lore, which he set up in -Benares. One outcome of this research center was the production of a -motion picture film dealing with this lore. - -After seeing many of the Eastern dances and dancers who have been -brought to Western Europe and the United States, I am convinced Uday -Shan-Kar is still the outstanding exponent. I hope to bring him again -for further tours, for I feel the more the American people are exposed -to his performances, the better we shall understand the fine and -delicate art of the East, and the East itself. - - -_D. A SPANISH LADY_ - -Although my taste for the dances of Spain had been whetted by my -association with Escudero, I had long wished to present to America the -artist whom I knew was the finest exponent of the feminine dance of the -Iberian peninsula. The task was by no means an easy one, for her first -American venture had been a fiasco. The lady from Spain was anything but -eager to risk another North American venture. - -Her name was Encarnacion Lopez. But it was as Argentinita that she was -known to and loved by all lovers of the dance of Spain, and recognized -by them as its outstanding interpreter of our time. Her story will bear -re-telling. My enthusiasm, my utmost admiration for the Spanish dance, -and for the great art of Argentinita is something that is not easy for -me to express. Diaghileff is known to have said with that unequivocation -for which he was noted: “There are two schools of dancing: the Classic -Ballet, which is the foundation of all ballet; and the Spanish school.” - -I would have put it differently by saying that Classic Ballet and the -Spanish school are the two types of dancing closest to my heart. - -My first view of Argentinita was at New York’s Majestic Theatre, in -1931, when she made her American _début_ in Lew Leslie’s ill-fated -_International Revue_. This performance, coincidentally enough, also -brought forth for his first American appearance, the British dancer, -Anton Dolin, who later also came under my management and who, like -Argentinita, was to become a close personal friend. For Dolin, the -opening night of the _International Revue_ was certainly no very -conspicuous beginning; for Argentinita, however, it was definitely a sad -one. This charming, quiet-voiced lady of Spain knew that she was a great -artist. Thrust into the hurly-burly of an ineptly produced Broadway -revue, where all was shouting and screaming, Argentinita continued her -quiet way and, artist that she was, avoided shouting and screaming her -demands. - -I was present at the opening performance. Although she was outwardly -calm, collected, restrained, I could sense the ordeal through which -Argentinita was going. In order to insure proper rhythmic support, she -had brought her own orchestra conductor from Spain. This gentleman was -able to speak little, if any, English. From where I sat I could see the -musicians poring over their parts and could hear them commenting to each -other about the music. Obviously the parts were in bad order and, -equally obviously, there had been little or no rehearsal; and, moreover, -it appeared the music was difficult to read at short notice. - -It was one of those strange ironies of fate that ruined something that, -properly handled, should and would have been a triumph. Yet it was not -only the orchestra and the music that were at fault. Argentinita herself -was shockingly presented, if she can honestly be said to have been -presented at all. She made her entrance as a Spanish peasant, in a -Spanish peasant costume which, though correct in every detail, was -devoid of any effect of what the average audience thinks is Spanish. She -was asked to dance in a peasant scene against a fantastic set purporting -to be Spanish, surrounded by a bevy of Broadway showgirls in marvellous -exotic costumes, also purporting to be Iberian, with trains yards in -length, which were no more authentically Spanish, or meant to be, than -were those of the tango danced by that well-known ball-room dancing team -of Moss and Fontana, who came on later in the same scene. - -Under such circumstances, success for Argentinita was out of the -question. So bitter was her disappointment that she left the cast and -the company two weeks after the opening. Later she gave a Sunday night -recital in her own repertoire, and although I set to work immediately to -persuade her that there was an audience for her in America, a great, -enthusiastic audience, such were her doubts that it took me six years to -do it. I knew she was a born star, for I recognized, shining in the -tawdry setting of this revue, a vivacious theatre personality. - -When Argentinita finally returned to America, in 1938, under my -management, and made her appearance on 13th November of that year, at -the Majestic Theatre, on the same stage where, seven years before, she -had so utterly and tragically failed, this time to enthusiastic cheers -and a highly approving press, she admitted I had been correct in my -judgment and in my insistence that she return. - -There is little point in recounting at this time her subsequent triumphs -all over America, for her hold on the public increased with each -appearance, and she is all too close to the memories of contemporary -dance lovers. I have said that Argentinita was a great artist. That will -bear repeating over and over again. Every gesture she made was feminine -and beautiful and, to my mind, she portrayed everything that was lovely -and most desirable. While her castanets may not actually have sung, they -spoke of many lovely things. Argentinita was a symbol of the womanhood -of Spain, warm, rich-blooded, wholesome, and I always felt certain there -were not enough hats in the world, least of all in Spain, to throw at -her feet to pay her the homage that was her due. - -Argentinita was born of Spanish parents in Buenos Aires, in 1898, and -taken back to Spain by them when she was four years old. At that early -age she commenced her training in the Spanish dance in all its varied -forms and styles, for she was equally at home in the Spanish Classic -dance as she was in the Gypsy or Flamenco dances. Those who saw the poem -she could make from _las Soleares_ of Andulasia, the basic rhythm of all -Spanish gypsy dances, know how she gave them the magic of a magic land; -or the gay _Alegrias_, performed in the sinuous manner, rich with -contrasts of slow, soft, and energetic movements, with the -characteristic stamping, stomping, sole-tapping, clapping, and -finger-snapping. It was in the _Alegrias_ that Argentinita let her fancy -roam with the slow tempo of the music. The European dance analysts had -noted that here, as also at other times and places, Argentinita danced -to please herself. When the tempo quickened, her mood changed to one of -gaiety and abandon. - -It is a difficult matter for me to pin down my memories of this splendid -artist and her work: _las Sevillianas_, the national dance of Seville, -danced by all classes and conditions of people, the Queen of Flamenco -dances; or the _Bulerias_, the most typical of all gypsy dances, light -and gay, the dance of the fiesta. - -Argentinita was not only a dancer. She was an actress of the first -order. She had been a member of Martinez Sierra’s interesting and vital -creative theatre in Madrid. She sang _Chansons Populaires_ in a -curiously throaty, plaintive little voice that could, nevertheless, fill -the largest theatre, despite the cameo-like quality of her art, fill -even the Metropolitan Opera House, with the sound, the color, the -atmosphere of Spain. - -Dancer of Spain that she was, her repertoire was not by any means -confined to the dance and music and life of the peoples of the Iberian -peninsula. She traveled far afield for her material, through the towns -and villages of South and Central America. Yet she was no mere copyist. -Works and ideas she found were transmuted into terms of the theatre by -means of a subtle alchemy. She had a deep knowledge of the entire -Spanish dance tradition, and knew it all, understood its wide historical -and regional changes. In her regional works, from Spanish folk to the -heart of the Andes, she kept the flavor of the original, but -personalized the dances. About them all was a fundamental honesty; -nothing was done for show. There were no heroics; no athleticism. In -addition to the _Alegrias_, _Sevillianas_, _Fandangos_, _Jotas_ of -Spain, the folk dances and folk songs of Brazil, Argentina, Peru, and -the remote places of Latin America and of its Indian villages were hers. -None who ever saw her do it can ever quite obliterate the memory of _El -Huayno_, implicit as it was with the stark dignity and nobility of the -Inca woman, and called by one critic, “the greatest dance of our -generation.” - -I have a particularly fond memory of _On the Route to Seville_, in which -a smoothie from the city outwitted and outdid the gypsies in larceny; -and also I remember fondly that nostalgic picture of the Madrid of 1900, -which she called, simply enough, _In Old Madrid_. - -As our association developed and continued, I was happy to be able to -extend the scope of her work and bring her from the solitary and -non-theatrical dance recital platform on which, one after the other, -from coast to coast, her journeys were a succession of triumphs, to the -stage of the Metropolitan Opera House in New York. Here, with her own -ensemble, chief among which was her exceptionally talented sister, Pilar -Lopez, I placed them as guests with one ballet company or another--with -Leonide Massine in Manuel de Falla’s _The Three-Cornered Hat_ and in -_Capriccio Espangnol_, by Rimsky-Korsakoff, on the choreography of which -she collaborated with Massine. - -In addition to these theatre adaptations of the dances of Spain, she -danced in her own dances, both solo and with Pilar Lopez. She trained -and developed excellent men, notably José Greco and Manolo Vargas. I am -especially happy in having been instrumental in bringing to the stage -two of her most interesting theatrical creations. One was the ballet she -staged to de Falla’s _El Amor Brujo_, which I produced for her. The -other was the Garcia Lorca _El Café de Chinitas_. Argentinita had been a -devoted friend of the martyred Loyalist poet, and to bring his work to -the American stage was a project close to her heart and a real labor of -love. Argentinita belonged to a close little circle of scholars, poets, -and composers, which included Martinez Sierra, Jacinto Benavente, and -the extraordinarily brilliant, genius-touched Garcia Lorca. - -The production of _El Café de Chinitas_ was made possible during a -Spanish festival I gave, one spring, at the Metropolitan Opera House. -For this festival I engaged José Iturbi to conduct a large orchestra -composed of members of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. Argentinita -had succeeded in interesting the Marquis de Cuevas in the project. For -_El Café de Chinitas_ the Marquis commissioned settings and costumes -from Salvador Dali. The result was one of the most effective and best -considered works for the theatre emanating from Dali’s brush. Dali, like -Argentinita, had been a friend of the martyred patriot-poet-composer. -His profounder emotions touched, Dali designed as effective a setting as -the Metropolitan Opera House has seen. The first of the two scenes was a -tremendously high wall on which hung literally hundreds of guitars, a -“graveyard of guitars,” as Dali phrased it; while the second scene, the -_Café de Chinitas_ itself, revealed the heroic torso of a female dancer -with her arms upstretched in what could be interpreted as an attitude of -the dance, or, if one chose, as a crucifixion. From where the hands held -the castanets there dripped blood, as though the hands had been pierced. -In terms of symbols, this was Dali’s representation of the crucifixion -of his country by hideous civil war. This was Argentinita’s last -production, and one of her happiest creations. - -A victim of cancer, Argentinita died in New York on 24th September, -1945. I was at the hospital at the end, together with my friend and -hers, Anton Dolin. Her doctors had long prescribed complete rest for her -and special care. But her life was the dance, and stop she could not. -Heroically she ignored her illness. If there was one thing about her -more conspicuous than another, it was her tiny, dainty, slippered feet. -No longer will they dart delicately into the lovely positions on the -floor. - -In Argentinita there was never either bitterness or unkindness to any -one. I have seen, at first hand, Argentinita’s encouragement and -unstinted help to others, and to lesser dancers. The success of others, -whether it was the artists in her own programmes, or elsewhere, was a -joy to her; nothing but the best was good enough. Her sister, Pilar -Lopez, who survives her and who today dances with great success in -Europe, carrying on her sister’s work, is a magnificent dancer. When -the two sisters danced together, everything that could be done to make -Pilar shine more brilliantly was done; and that, too, was the work of -Argentinita. Her loyalty to me was something of which I am very proud. - -Above all, it was the dignity and charm of the woman that played a great -part in the superb image of the artist who was known as Argentinita. - - -_E. A TERPSICHOREAN ANTHROPOLOGIST_ - -The mixture of dance and song and anthropology, with a firm accent on -sex, that struck a new note in the dance theatre, hailed from Chicago. -Her name is Katherine Dunham. She is a dynamo of energy; she is elusive; -she is unpredictable. She is a quite superb combination of exoticism and -intellectuality. - -Daughter of a French-Canadian and an American Negro, Katherine was born -in Joliet, Illinois, in 1914. Her theatrical experience has ranged from -art museums to night clubs, from Broadway to London’s West End, to the -_Théâtre des Champs Elysées_ in Paris, to European triumphs. Her early -life was spent and her first dancing was done in Chicago. She flashed -across the American entertainment world comet-like. More recently she -has confined her activities almost exclusively to England and Europe. - -I had no part in her beginnings. By the time I undertook to manage her, -she had assembled her own company of Negro dancers and had oscillated -between the rarefied atmosphere of women’s clubs and concert halls, on -the one hand, to night clubs and road houses, on the other. The -atmosphere of the latter was both smoky and rowdy. Katherine Dunham, I -suspect, is something of a split personality, so far as her art is -concerned. Possessor of a fine mind, it would seem to have been one -frequently in turmoil. On the one side, there is a keen intellectual -side to it, evidenced by both a Bachelor of Philosophy and a Master of -Arts degree from the University of Chicago, two Rosenwald Fellowships, -and a Rockefeller Fellowship. Her Masters degree is in anthropology. -These studies she pursued, as I have said, on the one hand. On the -other, she studied and practiced the dance with an equal fierceness. - -Her intellectual pursuits have been concerned, for the most part, with -anthropological researches into the Negro dance. Her first choreographic -venture was her collaboration with Ruth Page, in Chicago, in _La -Guiablesse_, a ballet on a Martinique theme, with a score based on -Martinique folk melodies by the American composer, William Grant Still, -a work with an all-Negro cast, seen both at the Century of Progress -Exhibition and the Chicago Opera House, in 1933. Dunham became active in -the Federal Dance Theatre, and its Chicago director. It was when she was -doing the dances for the International Ladies’ Garment Workers Union -depression-time revue, _Pins and Needles_, that she tried a Sunday dance -concert in New York at the Forty-eighth Street Theatre. So successful -was it that it was repeated every Sunday for three months. - -Turning to the theatre, she added acting and singing to dancing and -choreography, both on the stage and in films, appearing as both actress -and singer in _Cabin in the Sky_. She intrigued me, both by the quality -of her work, her exoticism, and her loyalty to her little troupe, for -the members of which she felt herself responsible. I first met her while -she was appearing at the Mark Hopkins Hotel, in San Francisco. She was -closing her engagement. She was down and out, trying to keep her group -together. I arranged for an audition and, after seeing her with her -group, undertook to see what could be done. Present with me at this -audition were Agnes de Mille, then in San Francisco rehearsing with the -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo what was to become her first choreographic -triumph, _Rodeo_, together with Alexandra Danilova and Frederick -Franklin. - -My idea in taking over her management was to try to help her transform -her concert pieces into revue material, suitable not only to the -country’s concert halls, but also to the theatre of Broadway and those -road theatres that were becoming increasingly unoccupied because of the -paucity of productions to keep them open. Certain purely theatrical -elements were added, including some singers, one of them being a Cuban -tenor; and, to supplement her native percussion players, a jazz group, -recruited from veterans of the famous “Dixieland Band.” - -We called the entertainment the _Tropical Revue_. The _Tropical Revue_ -was an immediate success at the Martin Beck Theatre in New York and, -thanks to some quick work, I was able to secure additional time at the -theatre and to extend the run to six weeks. This set up some sort of -record for an entertainment of the kind. As an entertainment form it -rested somewhere between revue and recital. Miss Dunham herself had -three outstanding numbers. These were her own impressions of what she -called different “hot” styles. These were responsible for some of the -heat that brought on the sizzling of the scenery to which the critics -referred. The first of her numbers was _Bahiana_, a limpid and languid -impression of Brazil; then _Shore Excursion_, a contrasting piece, fast, -hot, tough, and Cuban. The third was _Barrelhouse_, an old stand-by of -hers, straight out of Chicago’s Jungletown. - -_Tropical Revue_, during its two years under my management, was in an -almost perpetual state of flux. It was revised and revised, and revised -again. As the tours proceeded, Dunham did less and less dancing and more -and more impersonation. But while her “bumps” grew more discreet, there -was no lessening of the heat. Dunham’s choreography was best in -theatricalized West Indian and Latin American folk dances, some of which -approached full-scale ballets. The best of these, in my opinion, was -_L’Ag’ya_, a three-scened work, Martinique at core, the high light of -which was the “_ag’ya_,” a kicking dance. Here she was able to put to -excellent use authentic Afro-Caribbean steps, and in the overall -choreographic style, I would not feel it unfair to say that Dunham’s -style had been considerably influenced by the Chicago choreographer and -dancer, Ruth Page, with whom Dunham had collaborated early in her -career. - -It did not take me long to discover the public was more interested in -sizzling scenery than it was in anthropology, at least in the theatre. -Since the _Tropical Revue_ was fairly highly budgeted, it was necessary -for us, in order to attract the public, to emphasize sex over -anthropology. Dunham, with a shrewd eye to publicity, oscillated between -emphasis first on one and then on the other; her fingers were in -everything. In addition to running the company, dancing, singing, -revising, she lectured, carried on an unending correspondence by letter -and by wire, entertained lavishly, and added considerably, I am sure, to -the profits of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company. Columns -were written about her, and fulsome essays, a good deal of which was -balderdash. - -The handling of this tour presented its own special set of problems. Not -the least of these was the constantly recurring one of housing. We have -come a long way in the United States in disposing of Jim Crow; but there -is still a great deal to be done. Hotel accommodations for the artists -of the _Tropical Revue_ were a continual source of worry. One Pacific -Coast city was impossible. When, after days of fruitless searching, our -representative thought he had been able to install them in a neighboring -town, the Chinese owner of the hotel, on learning his guests were not -white, canceled the reservations. - -A certain midwestern city was another trouble spot, where, in one of the -city’s leading hostelries, the employees threatened to strike because of -the presence there of some of the principal artists. This was averted by -some quick work on the part of our staff. It should be noted, too, that -these unfortunate difficulties were all in cities north of what we hoped -was the non-existent Mason and Dixon Line. - -Miss Dunham, quite naturally, was disturbed and exercised by this -discrimination. In order to avoid this kind of unpleasantness, I had -tried to restrict the bookings to northern cities. However, it became -necessary to play an engagement in a southern border city. The results -were not happy. At the time of making the booking, I did not realize -that in this border state segregation was practiced in its Municipal -Auditorium. - -The house was sold out on the opening night. Owing to wartime -transportation difficulties, the company was late in arriving. Just -before the delayed curtain’s rise, Miss Dunham requested four seats for -some of her local friends. She was asked by the manager of the -Auditorium if they were colored. Miss Dunham replied that they were; -whereupon the manager offered to place chairs for them in the balcony, -since colored persons were not permitted in the orchestra stalls. Miss -Dunham protested, and objected to her friends being seated other than in -the orchestra. The fact was there were no seats available in the stalls, -since the house was sold out. However, had it not been for the -segregation rule, four extra chairs could have been placed in the boxes. - -The performance was enthusiastically received, with repeated curtain -calls at its close. Miss Dunham responded with a speech. She thanked the -audience for its appreciation and its warm response. Then, smarting -under the accumulated pressures of discrimination throughout the tour, -climaxed by the incident involving her friends, she paused, and added: -“This is good-bye. I shall not appear here again until people like me -can sit with people like you. Good-bye, and God bless you--and you may -need it.” - -While there was no overt hostile demonstration in the theatre, there -were those who felt Miss Dunham’s closing words implied a threat. The -press, ever alert to scent a scandal, demanded a statement about my -attitude on segregation in theatres, and to know if I approved of -artists under my management threatening audiences. It was one of those -rare times when, for some reason, I could not be reached by telephone. -Faced with the necessity of making some sort of statement, my -representative issued one to the effect that Mr. Hurok deplored and was -unalterably opposed to discrimination of any kind anywhere; but that, as -a law-abiding citizen, however much he deplored such regulations, he was -bound to conform to the laws and regulations obtaining in those -communities and theatres where he was contractually obliged to have his -attractions appear. But I have taken care never again to submit artists -to any possible indignities, if there is any way of avoiding it. - -I shall relate a last example of the sort of difficulties that arose on -this tour and, to my mind, it is the most stupid of them all, if there -can be said to be degrees of stupidity in such matters. - -In addition to the large orchestra of conventional instruments we -carried, Miss Dunham had four Guatemalan percussionists who dramatically -beat out the Caribbean rhythms on a wide assortment of gourds, tam-tams, -and other native drums, both with the orchestra and in several scenes on -the stage. - -It happened in a northern city. The head of the musicians’ union local -demanded to know if there were any “niggers” in our orchestra. My -representative, who feels very strongly about such matters and who -resents the term used by the local union president, replied that he did -not understand the question. All members of the orchestra, he said, were -members of the American Federation of Musicians, and had played as a -unit across the entire country, and such a question had never arisen. -The local union official thereupon tersely informed him the colored -players would not be permitted to play with the other musicians in the -orchestra pit in that city; if they attempted to do so, he would forbid -the white players to play. My representative, refusing to bow to such an -ukase, appealed to the head office of the Musicians’ Union, in -Chicago--only to be informed by them that, however much headquarters -disapproved of and deplored the situation, each union local was -autonomous in its local rulings and there was nothing they could do. - -Now comes the irony of the situation. My representative, on visiting the -theatre, saw that the stage boxes abutted the orchestra pit on the same -level with it “Why not place the percussionists there?” he thought. He -proposed this to the union official, and was informed that this would be -permitted, “so long as there is a railing between the white players and -the black.” - -It was only later, on thumbing through the local telephone directory, my -representative discovered there were two musicians’ locals there. One -of them was listed with the word “colored” after it, in parenthesis. - -Yes, we still have a long road ahead in the matter of fair employment -practices and equal opportunities for all. - -Having had a satisfying taste of the theatre, Miss Dunham eventually -turned to it as her exclusive medium of expression, and branched out -into a full-fledged theatre piece, with plot and all, called _Carib -Song_, which, transmuted into _Caribbean Rhapsody_, proved more -successful on the other side of the Atlantic than it did in the States. - -My association with Katherine Dunham seemed to satisfy, at least for the -moment, my taste for the exotic. I cannot say it added much to my -knowledge of anthropology, but it broadened my experience of human -nature. - -I presented Katherine Dunham and her company in Buenos Aires and -throughout South America during the season 1949-1950 when our -association came to an end. In her artistic career Katherine Dunham has -been greatly aided by the advice and by the practical help, in scenic -and costume design, of her husband, the talented American painter and -designer, John Pratt. - -While the scope of Katherine Dunham’s dancing and choreography may be -limited by her anthropological bias, she has a first-rate quality of -showmanship. She has studied, revived, rearranged for the theatre -primitive dances and creole dances, which are in that borderland that is -somewhere at the meeting point of African and Western culture. -Anthropology aside and for the moment forgotten, she is a striking -entertainer. - - -F. _AN AMERICAN GENIUS_ - -It may well be that, considered as an individual, the American Martha -Graham is one of the greatest dance celebrities in the United States. -There are those who contend she is the greatest. She is certainly the -most controversial. There seems to be no middle school of thought -concerning her. One of them bursts forth with an enthusiasm amounting -almost to idolatry. The other shouts its negatives quite as forcibly. - -My first love and my greatest interest is ballet. However, that love and -that interest do not obscure for me all other forms of dance, as my -managerial career shows. Having presented prophets and disciples of -what, for want of a more accurate term, is called the “free” dance, in -the persons of Isadora Duncan and her “children” and Mary Wigman, I -welcomed the opportunity to present the American High Priestess of the -contemporary dance. - -This product of a long line of New England forbears was a woman past -fifty when she came under my management. Yet she was at the height of -her powers, in the full bloom of the immense artistic accomplishment -that is hers, a dancer of amazing skill, a choreographer of striking -originality, an actress of tremendous power. - -The first and by far the most important prophet of the contemporary -dance, Martha Graham was originally trained in the Ruth St. Denis-Ted -Shawn tradition. A quarter of a century ago, however, she broke away -from that tradition and introduced into her works a quality of social -significance and protest. As I think over her choreographic product, it -seems to me that, in general--and this is a case where I must -generalize--her work has exhibited what may be described as two major -trends. One has been in the direction of fundamental social conflicts; -the other, towards psychological abstraction and a vague mysticism. - -About all her work is an austerity, stark and lean; yet this cold -austerity in her creations is always presented by means of a brilliant -technique and with an intense dramatic power. I made it a point for -years to see as many of her recital programmes as I could, and I was -never sure what I was going to see. Each time there seemed to me to be a -new style and a new technique. She was constantly experimenting and -while, often, the experiments did not quite come off, she always excited -me, if I did not always understand what she was trying to say. - -I have the greatest admiration for Martha Graham and for what she has -done. She has championed the cause of the American composer by having -works commissioned, while she has, at the same time, championed the -cause of free movement and originality in the dance. Yet, so violent, so -distorted, so obscure, and sometimes so oppressive do I find some of her -works that I am baffled. It is these qualities, coupled with the -complete introspection in which her works are steeped, that make it so -extremely difficult to attract the public in sufficient numbers to make -touring worthwhile or New York seasons financially possible without some -sort of subsidy. I shall have something to say, later on in this book, -on this whole question of subsidy of the arts. Meanwhile, Martha Graham -has chosen a lonely road, and the introspectiveness of her work does not -make it any less so. The more’s the pity, for here is a great artist of -the first rank. - -Martha Graham completed my triptych of modern dancers, commencing with -Isadora Duncan and continuing with Mary Wigman as its center piece. In -many respects, Martha Graham is by far the greatest of the three; yet, -to me, she is lacking in a quality that made the dances of Isadora -Duncan so compelling. It is difficult to define that quality. -Negatively, it may be that it is this very introspection. Perhaps it is -that Martha Graham is no modernist at all. - -Modernism in dance, I feel, has become very provincial, for it would -seem that every one and her sister is a modernist. Isadora was a -modernist. Fokine was a modernist. Mary Wigman was a modernist. Today, -we have Balanchine and Robbins, modernists. Scratch a choreographer, -scrape a dancer ever so lightly, and you will find a modernist. It is -all very, very provincial. - -Much of what is to me the real beauty of the dance--the lyric line, the -unbroken phrase, the sequential pattern of the dance itself--has, in the -name of modernism, been chopped up and broken. - -Martha Graham, of all the practitioners of the “free” dance, troubles me -least in this respect. Many of her works look like ballets. Yet, at the -same time, she disturbs me; never soothes me; and, since I have -dedicated myself in this book to candor, I shall admit I can take my -dance without too much over-intellectualization. Yet, in retrospect, I -find there are few ballets that have so much concentrated excitement as -Martha Graham’s _Deaths and Entrances_. - -The choreography, the dancing, the art of Martha Graham are greatly -appreciated by a devoted but limited public. The lamentable thing about -it to me is that it so limited. She has chosen the road of the solitary -and lonely experimenter. Martha Graham, of all the dancers I have known, -is, I believe, the most single-purposed, the most fanatical in her -devotion to an idea and an ideal. About her and everything she does is -an extraordinary integrity, a consummate honesty. Generous to a fault, -Martha Graham always has something good to say about the work of others, -and she possesses a keen appreciation of all forms of the dance. The -high position she so indisputably holds has been attained, as I happen -to know, only through great privation and hardship, often in the face of -cruel and harsh ridicule. Her remarkable technique could only have been -acquired at the expense of sheer physical exhaustion. In the history of -the dance her name will ever remain at the head of the pioneers. - - - - -5. Three Ladies of the Maryinsky--And -Others - - -Up to now I have dealt with those artists of the dance whose forms of -dance expression were either modern, free, or exotic. All had been, at -one time or another, under my management. The rest of this candid avowal -will be devoted to that form of theatrical dance known as ballet. Since -I regard ballet as the most satisfactory and satisfying form of -civilized entertainment, ballet will occupy the major portion of the -book. Nearly two full decades of my career as impresario have been -devoted to it. - -For a long time I have been alternately irritated and bored by an almost -endless stream of gossip about ballet, and by that outpouring of -frequently cheap and sometimes incredible nonsense that has been -published about ballet and its artists. Surprisingly, perhaps, -comparatively little of this has come from press agents; the press -agents have, in the main--exceptions only going to prove the rule, in -this case--been ladies and gentlemen of taste and discretion, and they -have publicized ballet legitimately as the great art it is, and, at the -same time, have given of their talents to help make it the highly -popular art it is. - -But there has been a plethora of tripe in the public prints about -ballet, supplied by hacks, blind hero-worshippers, self-abasing -sycophants, and producers. The last are quite as vocal as any of the -others. They are not, of course, “producers.” They call themselves -either “managers” or “managing-directors.” I shall have something to -say, later on, about this phase of their work. They talk, give -interviews, often of quite incredible stupidity; and, instead of being -managers, are masters of mismanagement. All are, in one degree or -another, would-be Diaghileffs. They all suffer from a serious disease: a -sort of chronic Diaghileffitis, which is spasmodically acute. If -anything I can say or point out in this book can help, as it were, to -add a third dimension to the rather flat pictures of ballet companies -and ballet personalities, creative, interpretive, executive, that have -been offered to the public, I shall be glad. For ballet is a great art, -and my last thought would be to wish to denigrate, debunk, or disparage -any one. - -While “the whole truth” cannot always be told for reasons that should be -obvious, I shall try to tell “nothing but the truth.” - -The ballet we have today, however far afield it may wander in its -experimentation, in its “novelties,” stems from a profoundly classical -base. That base, emerging from Italy and France, found its full -flowering in the Imperial Theatres of Russia. - -I cannot go on with my story of my experiences with ballet on the -American continent without paying a passing tribute to the Ladies of the -Maryinsky (and some of the Gentlemen, as well), who exemplified the -Russian School of Ballet at its best; many of them are carrying on in -their own schools, and passing on their great knowledge to the youth of -the second half of the twentieth century, in whose hands the future of -ballet lies. - -I should like to do honor to many ladies of the Maryinsky. To do so -would mean an overly long list of names, many of which would mean little -to a generation whose knowledge of dancers does not go back much further -than Danilova. It would mean a considerable portion of the graduating -classes of the Russian Imperial School of the Ballet: that School, -dating from 1738, whose code was monastic, whose discipline was strict, -whose training the finest imaginable. Through this school and from it -came the ladies and gentlemen of the Maryinsky, those figures that gave -ballet its finest flowering on the stages of the Maryinsky Theatre in -Petrograd and the Grand Theatre in Moscow. - -Anna Pavlova, Mathilde Kchessinska, Olga Preobrajenska, Lubov Egorova, -Tamara Karsavina, Lydia Kyasht, Lydia Lopokova. There were men, too: -Michel Fokine, Mikhail Mordkin, Vaslav Nijinsky, Adolph Bolm, Theodore -Kosloff, Alexandre Volinine, Laurent Novikoff. The catalogue would be -too long, if continued. No slight is intended. The turn of the century, -or thereabouts, saw most of the above named in the full flush of their -performing abilities. - -What has become of them? Six of the seven ladies are still very much -alive, each making a valued contribution to ballet today. The mortality -rate among the men has been heavier; only three of the seven men are now -alive; yet these three are actively engaged in that most necessary and -fundamental department of ballet: teaching. - -Because the present has its basic roots in the past, and because the -future must emerge from the present, let me, in honoring those -outstanding representatives of the recent past, pause for a moment to -sketch their achievements and contributions. - - -_MATHILDE KCHESSINSKA_ - -In the early twentieth century hierarchy of Russian Ballet, Mathilde -Kchessinska was the undisputed queen, a tsarina whose slightest wish -commanded compliance. She was a symbol of a period. - -Mathilde Kchessinska was born in 1872, the daughter of a famous Polish -character dancer, Felix Kchessinsky. A superb technician, according to -all to whom I have talked about her, and to the historians of the time, -she is credited with having been the first Russian to learn the highly -applauded (by audiences) trick of those dazzling multiple turns called -_fouettés_, guaranteed to bring the house down and, sometimes today, -even when poorly done. In addition to a supreme technique, she is said -to have been a magnificent actress, both “on” and “off.” - -Hers was an exalted position in Russia. Her personal social life gave -her a power she was able to exercise in high places and a personal -fortune which permitted her to give rein to a waywardness and wilfulness -that did not always coincide with the strict disciplinarian standards of -the Imperial Ballet. - -Although she was able to control the destinies of the Maryinsky Theatre, -to hold undisputed sway there, to have everything her own way, all that -most people today know about her is that she was fond of gambling, that -the Grand Dukes built her a Palace in Petrograd, and that Lenin made -speeches to the mob from its balcony during the Revolution. - -More rot has been told and written about her by those with more -imagination than love of accuracy, than about almost any other person -connected with ballet, not excepting Serge Diaghileff. In yarn upon yarn -she has been identified with one sensational escapade and affair after -another. None of these, so far as I know, she has ever troubled to -contradict. - -Mathilde Kchessinska was the first Russian dancer to win supremacy for -the native Russian artist over their Italian guests. An artist in life -as well as on the stage, today, at eighty, the Princess -Krassinska-Romanovska, the morganatic wife of Grand Duke André of -Russia, she still teaches daily at her studio in Paris, contributing to -ballet from the fund of her vast experience and knowledge. Many fine -dancers have emerged from her hands, but perhaps the pupil of whom she -is the proudest is Tatiana Riabouchinska. - - -_OLGA PREOBRAJENSKA_ - -Sharing the rank of _ballerina assoluta_ with Kchessinska at the -Maryinsky Theatre was Olga Preobrajenska. Preobrajenska’s career -paralleled that of the Princess Krassinska-Romanovska; she was born in -1871, and graduated from the Imperial School in the class ahead of the -Princess. Yet, in many respects, they were as unlike as it is possible -for two females to differ. - -Kchessinka was always _chic_, noted for her striking beauty, expressive -arms and wrists, a beautifully poised head, an indescribably infectious -smile. She was a social queen who used her gifts and her powers for all -they were worth. It was a question in the minds of many whether -Kchessinska’s private life was more important than her professional -career. The gods had not seen fit to smile too graciously on -Preobrajenska in the matter of face and figure. Her tremendous success -in a theatre where, at the time, beauty of form was regarded nearly as -highly as technique, may be said to have been a triumph of mind over -matter. Despite these handicaps or, perhaps, because of them, she -succeeded in working out her own distinctive style and bearing. - -Free from any Court intriguing, Olga Preobrajenska was a serious-minded -and noble person, a figure that reflected her own nobility of mind on -ballet itself. Whereas Kchessinska’s career was, for the most part, a -rose-strewn path, Preobrajenska’s road was rocky. Her climb from a -_corps de ballet_ dancer to the heights was no overnight journey. It -was one that took a good deal of courage, an exhibition of fortitude -that happily led to a richly deserved victory. Blessed with a dogged -perseverance, a divine thirst for knowledge, coupled with a desire ever -to improve, she forced herself ahead. She danced not only in every -ballet, but in nearly every opera in the repertoire that had dances. In -her quarter of a century on the Imperial stage she appeared more than -seven hundred times. It was close on to midnight when her professional -work was done for the day; then she went to the great teacher, Maestro -Enrico Cecchetti, for a private lesson, which lasted far into the early -hours of the morning. Hers was a life devoted to work. For the social -whirl she had neither time nor interest. - -These qualities, linked with her fine personal courage and gentleness, -undoubtedly account for that unbounded admiration and respect in which -she is held by her colleagues. - -Preobrajenska remained in Russia after the revolution, teaching at the -Soviet State School of Ballet from 1917 through 1921. In 1922, she -relinquished her post, left Russia and settled in Paris. Today, she -maintains one of the world’s most noteworthy ballet schools, still -teaching daily, passing on to the present generation of dancers -something of herself so that, though dancers die, dancing may live. - -It was during her teaching tenure at the Soviet State School of Ballet, -the continuing successor in unbroken line and tradition to the Imperial -Ballet School from the eighteenth century, that a young man named Georgi -Balanchivadze came into her ken. Georgi Balanchivadze is better known -throughout the world of the dance today as George Balanchine. In the -long line of pupils who have passed through Preobrajenska’s famous Paris -school, there is space only to mention two of whom she is very proud: -Irina Baronova and Tamara Toumanova. - -Frequently, I have had great pleasure in attending some of -Preobrajenska’s classes in Paris, and I am proud to know her. It was -during my European visit in the summer of 1950 that I happened to be at -La Scala, Milan, when Preobrajenska was watching a class being given -there by the Austrian ballet-mistress, Margaret Wallman. This was at the -time of the visit to Milan of Galina Ulanova, the greatest lyric -ballerina of the Soviet Union. The meeting of Ulanova and Preobrajenska, -two great figures of Russian ballet, forty-one years apart in age, but -with the great common bond of the classical dance, each the recipient -of the highest honors a government can pay an artist, was, in its way, -historic. - -I arranged to have photographs taken of the event, a meeting that was -very touching. Ulanova had come to see a class as well. The two great -artists embraced. Ulanova was deeply moved. Their conversation was -general. Unfortunately, there was little time, for the Soviet Consular -officials who accompanied Ulanova were not eager for her to have too -long a conversation. - -At eighty-two, Preobrajenska has no superior as a teacher. At her prime, -she was a dancer of wit and elegance, excelling in mimicry and the -humorous. With her colleagues of that epoch, as with Ulanova, she -nevertheless had one outstanding quality in common: a sound classicism. - - -_LUBOV EGOROVA_ - -Less exalted in the hierarchy of the Russian Imperial Ballet, since she -never attained the _assoluta_ distinction there, but, nevertheless, a -very important figure in ballet, is Lubov Egorova (Princess -Troubetzkoy). - -Born some nine years later than Preobrajenska and eight later than -Kchessinska, Egorova, who was merely a _ballerina_ at the Maryinsky, was -one of the first great Russian dancers to leave Russia; she was a member -of the exploring group that made a Western European tour during a summer -holiday from the Maryinsky, in 1908--perhaps the first time that Russian -Ballet was seen outside the country. - -In 1917, Egorova left Russia for good and, joining the Diaghileff -Ballet, appeared in London, in 1921, dancing the role of Princess Aurora -in the lavish, if ill-starred, revival of Tchaikowsky’s _The Sleeping -Beauty_, or, as Diaghileff called his Benois production, _The Sleeping -Princess_. As a matter of fact, she was one of three Auroras, -alternating the role with two other great ladies of the ballet, Olga -Spessivtseva and Vera Trefilova. - -In 1923, Egorova founded her own school in Paris, and has been teaching -there continuously since that time. Many famous dancers have emerged -from that school, dancers of all nationalities, carrying the gospel to -their own lands. - -The basic method of ballet training has altered little. Since the last -war, there have been some new developments in teaching methods. Although -the individual methods of these three ladies from the Maryinsky may -have differed in detail, they have all had the same solid base, and from -these schools have come not only the dancers of today, but the teachers -of the future. - - -_TAMARA KARSAVINA_ - -The Russian _emigré_ dancers would seem to have distributed themselves -fairly equally between Paris and London, (excluding, of course, those -who have made the States their permanent home). While the three -Maryinsky ladies I have discussed became Parisian fixtures, another trio -made London their abiding place. - -Most important of the London trio was Tamara Karsavina, who combined in -her own person the attributes of a great dancer, a great beauty, a great -actress, a great artist, and a great woman. John van Druten, the noted -playwright, sums her up thus: “I can tell you that Tamara Karsavina was -the greatest actress and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, the -incarnation of Shakespeare’s ‘wightly wanton with a velvet brow, with -two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes,’ and that I wrote sonnets to -her when I was twenty.” - -Born in 1885, the daughter of a famous Russian dancer and teacher, -Platon Karsavin, Karsavina, unlike the Ladies of the Maryinsky who have -made Paris their home, was ready for change: that change in ballet that -is sometimes called the Romantic Revolution. She was receptive to new -ideas, and became identified with Fokine and Diaghileff and their -reforms in ballet style. - -Diaghileff had to have a _ballerina_ for his company, and it soon became -obvious to both Fokine and Diaghileff that Pavlova would not fit into -their conception of things balletic. The modest, unassuming, charming, -gracious, beautiful and enchanting Karsavina took over the _ballerina_ -roles of the Diaghileff Company. It was in 1910 that Karsavina came into -her own with the creation of the title role in _The Firebird_, and a -revival of _Giselle_. Her success was tremendous. The shy, modest Tamara -Karsavina became _La Karsavina_; without the guarantee of her presence -in the cast, Diaghileff was for many years unable to secure a contract -in numerous cities, including London. - -All through her career, a career that brought her unheard of success, -adulation, worship, Karsavina remained a sweet, simple, unspoiled lady. - -She was not only the toast of Europe for her work with the Diaghileff -Company, but she returned frequently to the Maryinsky, dashing back and -forth between Petrograd and Western Europe. An aversion to sea travel in -wartime prevented her visiting America with the Diaghileff Company on -either of its American tours. She did, however, make a brief American -concert tour in 1925, partnered by Pierre Vladimiroff. Neither the -conditions nor the circumstances of this visit were to her advantage, -and Americans were thus prevented from seeing Karsavina at anything like -her best. - -Karsavina has painted her own picture more strikingly than anyone else -can; and has painted it in a book that is a splendid work of art. It is -called _Theatre Street_. Tamara Karsavina’s _Theatre Street_ is a book -and a portrait, a picture of a person and of an era that is, at the same -time, a shining classic of the theatrical dance. But not only does it -tell the story of her own career so strikingly that it would be -presumptuous of me to expand on her career in these pages, but she shows -us pictures of Russian life, of childhood in Russia that take rank with -any ever written. - -After the dissolution of a previous Russian marriage, Karsavina, in -1917, married a British diplomat, Henry Bruce, who died in 1950. Her -son, by this marriage, is an actor and director in the British theatre. -Karsavina herself lives quietly and graciously in London, but by no -means inactively. She is a rock of strength to British ballet, through -her interest and inspiration. A great lady as well as a great artist, it -would give me great pleasure to be able to present her across the -American continent in a lecture tour, in the course of which -illuminating dissertation she would elucidate, as no one I have ever -seen or heard, the important and expressive art of mime. - - -_LYDIA KYASHT_ - -Classmate of Karsavina at the Imperial School, and born in the same -year, is Lydia Kyasht, who was the first Russian _ballerina_ to become a -permanent fixture in London. - -Kyasht’s arrival in the British capital dates back to 1908, the year she -became a leading soloist at the Maryinsky Theatre. There were mixed -motives for her emigration to England. There were, it appears, intrigues -of some sort at the Maryinsky; there was also a substantial monetary -offer from the London music hall, the Empire, where, for years, ballet -was juxtaposed with the rough-and-tumble of music hall comedians, and -where Adeline Genée had reigned as queen of English ballet for a decade. -Kyasht’s Russian salary was approximately thirty-five dollars a month. -The London offer was for approximately two hundred dollars a week. - -Her first appearance at the Empire, in Leicester Square, long the home -of such ballet as London had at that time, was under her own name as -Lydia Kyaksht. When the Empire’s manager in dismay inquired: “How _can_ -one pronounce a name like that?” he welcomed the suggestion that the -pronunciation would be made easier for British tongues if the second “k” -were dropped. So it became Kyasht, and Kyasht it has remained. - -Kyasht was the first Russian dancer to win a following in London, and in -her first appearances there she was partnered by Adolph Bolm, later to -be identified with Diaghileff and still later with ballet development in -the United States. - -The Empire ballets were, for the most part, of a very special type of -corn. Kyasht appeared in, among others, a little something called _The -Water Nymph_ and in another something charmingly titled _First Love_, -with my old friend and Anna Pavlova’s long-time partner, Alexandre -Volinine, as her chief support. There was also a whimsy called _The -Reaper’s Dream_, in which Kyasht appeared as the “Spirit of the -Wheatsheaf,” seen and pursued in his dream by a reaper, the while the -_corps de ballet_, costumed as an autumn wheatfield, watched and -wondered. - -Most important, however, was Kyasht’s appearance in the first English -presentation, on 18th May, 1911, of Delibes’ _Sylvia_. _Sylvia_, one of -the happiest of French ballets, had had to wait thirty-five years to -reach London, although the music had long been familiar there. Even -then, London saw a version of a full-length, three-act work, which, for -the occasion, had been cut and compressed into a single act. It took -forty-one more years for the uncut, full-length work to be done in -London, with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet production, staged by Frederick -Ashton, at Covent Garden, in the Royal Opera House, on 3rd of September, -1952. The original British Sylvia, Lydia Kyasht, was, by this date, a -member of the teaching staff at the famous Sadler’s Wells School. - -Lydia Kyasht remained at the Empire for five years. At the conclusion of -her long engagement, she sailed for New York to appear as the Blue Bird -in a Shubert Winter Garden show, _The Whirl of the World_, with Serge -Litavkin as her partner; Litavkin later committed suicide in London, as -the result of an unhappy love affair (not with Lydia Kyasht). - -Kyasht’s American venture brought her neither fame nor glory. In the -first place, a Shubert Winter Garden spectacle, in 1913, was not a -setting for the classical technique of Ballet; then, for better or -worse, Kyasht was stricken ill with typhoid fever, a mischance that -automatically terminated her contract. But before she became ill, still -on the unhappier side, was the Shubertian insistence that Kyasht should -be taught and that she should perfect herself in the 1913 edition of -“swing,” the “Turkey Trot.” Such was the uninformed and uncaring mind of -your average Broadway manager, that he wanted to combine the delicacy of -the “Turkey Trot,” of unhallowed memory, with what he elegantly -characterized as “acrobatic novelties.” - -But Kyasht was saved from this humiliation by the serious fever attack -and returned to London, where she made her permanent home and where, for -the most part, she devoted herself to teaching. As a teacher able to -impart that finish and refinement that is so essential a part of a -dancer’s equipment, she has had a marked success. - -Today, she is, as I have said, active in the teaching of ballet -department at that splendid academy, the Sadler’s Wells School, about -which I shall have something to say later on. - - -_LYDIA LOPOKOVA_ - -The third of the Maryinsky ladies to settle in England, to whom I cannot -fail to pay tribute, is Lydia Lopokova. - -Lopokova is the youngest of the three, having been born in 1891. Her -graduation from the Imperial School was so close to the great changes -that took place in Russian ballet, that she had been at the Maryinsky -Theatre only a few months when, as a pupil of Fokine, she was invited to -join the Diaghileff Ballet, at that time at the height of its success in -its second Paris season. - -Writing of Lopokova’s early days at the Imperial School, Karsavina says -in _Theatre Street_: “Out of the group of small pupils given now into my -care was little Lopokova. The extreme emphasis she put into her -movements was comic to watch in the tiny child with the face of an -earnest cherub. Whether she danced or talked, her whole frame quivered -with excitement; she bubbled all over. Her personality was manifest from -the first, and very lovable.” - -Of her arrival to join the Diaghileff Company in Paris, Karsavina says: -“Young Lopokova danced this season; it was altogether her first season -abroad. As she was stepping out of the railway carriage, emotion -overcame her. She fainted right away on the piles of luggage. It had -been her dream to be in Paris, she told the alarmed Bakst who rendered -first aid; the lovely sight (of the Gare du Nord) was too much for her. -A mere child, she reminded me again of the tiny earnest pupil when, in -the demure costume of _Sylphides_, she ecstatically and swiftly ran on -her toes.” - -Lopokova’s rise to high position with the Diaghileff Ballet in England -and Europe was rapid. But she was bored by success. There were new -fields to be conquered, and off she went to New York, in the summer of -1911, to join the first “Russian Ballet” to be seen on Broadway. A -commercial venture hastily rushed into the ill-suited Winter Garden, -with the obvious purpose of getting ahead of the impending Diaghileff -invasion of America, due at a later date. The popular American -vaudeville performer, Gertrude Hoffman, temporarily turned manager, -sparked this “Saison de Ballets Russes.” - -Hoffman, in conjunction with a Broadway management, imported nearly a -hundred dancers, with Lydia Lopokova as the foremost; others included -the brothers Kosloff, Theodore and Alexis, who remained permanently in -the United States; my friend, Alexandre Volinine; and Alexander -Bulgakoff. A word about the 1911 “Saison de Ballets Russes” may not be -amiss. The ethics of the entire venture were, to say the least, open to -question. Among the works presented were _Schéhérazade_, _Cléopâtre_, -and _Sylphides_--all taken without permission from the Diaghileff -repertoire, and with no credit (and certainly no cash) given to Michel -Fokine, their creator. All works were restaged from memory by Theodore -Kosloff, and with interpolations by Gertrude Hoffman. The outstanding -success of the whole affair was Lydia Lopokova. - -When, after an unsuccessful financial tour outside New York, Lopokova -and Volinine left the company, the “Saison de Ballets Russes” fell to -pieces. - -Venturing still farther afield, Lopokova joined Mikhail Mordkin’s -company briefly; then, remaining in America for five years, she toyed -seriously with the legitimate theatre, and made her first appearance as -an actress (in English) with that pioneer group, the Washington Square -Players (from which evolved The Theatre Guild), at the Bandbox Theatre, -in East 57th Street, in New York, and later in a Percy Mackaye piece -called _The Antic_, under the direction of Harrison Grey Fiske. - -Then the Diaghileff Ballet came to America; came, moreover, badly in -need of Lopokova; came without Karsavina, without any woman star; came -badly crippled. In New York, and free, was Lydia Lopokova. It was Lydia -Lopokova who was the _ballerina_ of the company through the two American -tours. It was Lydia Lopokova who was the company’s bright and shining -individual success. - -She returned to Europe with Diaghileff and was his _ballerina_ from 1917 -to 1919, earning for herself in London a popularity second to none. But, -bored again by success, she was suddenly off again to America. This -time, the venture was even less noteworthy, for it was a Shubert musical -comedy--and a rather dismal failure. “I was a flop,” was Lopokova’s -comment, “and thoroughly deserved it.” In 1921, she returned to -Diaghileff, and danced the Lilac Fairy in his tremendous revival of _The -Sleeping Princess_. During the following years, up to the Diaghileff -Ballet’s final season, Lopokova was in and out of the company, appearing -as a guest artist in the later days. - -After a short and unhappy marriage with one of Diaghileff’s secretaries -had been dissolved, Lopokova became Mrs. J. Maynard Keynes, the wife of -the brilliant and distinguished English economist, art patron, friend of -ballet and inspirer of the British Arts Council. On Keynes’s elevation -to the peerage, Lopokova, of course, became Lady Keynes. - -Invariably quick in wit, impulsive, possessor of a genuine sense of -humor, Lady Keynes remains eager, keen for experiment, restless, impish, -and still puckish, always ready to lend her enthusiastic support to -ventures and ideas in which she believes. - - -_MARIE RAMBERT_ - -One of the most potent forces in the development of ballet in England is -Marie Rambert. She was a pioneer in British ballet. She still has much -to give. - -Marie Rambert--unlike her London colleagues: Karsavina, Kyasht, and -Lopokova--was not a Maryinsky lady. Born Miriam Rambach, in Poland, she -was a disciple of Emile Jacques Dalcroze, and was recommended to -Diaghileff by her teacher as an instructor in the Dalcroze type of -rhythmic movement. The Russians who made up the Diaghileff Company were -not impressed either by the Dalcroze method or its youthful teacher. -They rebelled against her, taunted her, called her “Rhythmitchika,” and -left her alone. There was one exception, however. That exception was -Vaslav Nijinsky, who was considerably influenced by his studies with -Rambert, an influence that was made apparent in three of his -choreographic works: _Sacre du Printemps_, _Afternoon of a Faun_ (this, -incidentally, the first to show the influence), and _Jeux_. - -Despite the attitude of the Russian dancers, it was her contacts with -the Diaghileff Ballet that aroused Rambert’s interest in ballet. She had -had early dancing lessons in the Russian State School in Warsaw; now she -became a pupil of Enrico Cecchetti. In 1920, she established her own -ballet school in the Notting Hill Gate section of London, and it was not -long after that the Ballet Club, a combination of ballet company with -the school, was founded, an organization that became England’s first -permanent ballet company. - -Rambert’s influence on ballet in England has been widespread. When, -after the death of Diaghileff, the Camargo Society was formed in London, -along with Ninette de Valois, Lydia Lopokova, J. Maynard Keynes, and -Arnold L. Haskell, Rambert was a prime mover. - -In her school and at the Ballet Club, she set herself the task of -developing English dancers for English ballet. From her school have come -very many of the young dancers and, even more important, many of the -young choreographers who are making ballet history today. To mention but -a few: Frederick Ashton, Harold Turner, Antony Tudor, Hugh Laing, Walter -Gore, Frank Staff, William Chappell, among the men; Peggy van Praagh, -Pearl Argyle, Andrée Howard, Diana Could, Sally Gilmour, among the -women. - -Rambert is married to that poet of the English theatre, Ashley Dukes. -Twenty-odd years ago they pooled their individual passions--hers for -building dancers, his for building theatres and class-rooms--and built -and remodelled a hall into a simple, little theatre, which they -christened the Mercury, in Ladbroke Road. Its auditorium is as tiny as -its stage. Two leaps will suffice to cross it. The orchestra consisted -of a single pianist. On occasion a gramophone assisted. Everything had -to be simple. Everything had to be inexpensive. The financial -difficulties were enormous. Here the early masterpieces of Ashton and -Tudor were created. Here great work was done, and ballets brought to -life in collaboration between artists in ferment. - -I cannot do better than to quote the splendid tribute of my friend, -“Freddy” Ashton, when he says: “Hers is a deeply etched character, a -potent bitter-sweet mixture; she can sting the lazy into activity, make -the rigid mobile and energise the most lethargic.... She has the unique -gift of awakening creative ability in artists. Not only myself, but -Andrée Howard, Antony Tudor, Walter Gore and Frank Staff felt our -impulse for choreography strengthen and become irresistible under her -wise and patient guidance. Even those who were not her pupils or -directly in her care--the designers who worked with her, William -Chappell, Sophie Fedorovitch, Nadia Benois, Hugh Stevenson, to name only -a few--all felt the impact of her singular personality.” - -The work Marie Rambert did with the Ballet Club and the Ballet Rambert -in their days at the Mercury Theatre was of incalculable value. The -company continues today but its function is somewhat different. -Originally the Ballet Rambert was a place where young choreographers -could try out their ideas, could make brave and bold experiments. During -my most recent visit to London, in the summer of 1953, I was able to see -some of her more recent work on the larger stage of the Sadler’s Wells -Theatre. I was profoundly impressed. Outstanding among the works I saw -were an unusually fine performance of Fokine’s immortal _Les Sylphides_, -which has been continuously in her repertoire since 1930; _Movimientos_, -a work out of the London Ballet Workshop in 1952, with choreography and -music by the young Michael Charnley, with scenery by Douglas Smith and -costumes by Tom Lingwood; Frederick Ashton’s exquisite _Les Masques_, an -old tale set to a delicate score by Francis Poulenc, with scenery and -costumes by the late and lamented Sophie Fedorovitch; and Walter Gore’s -fine _Winter Night_, to a Rachmaninoff score, with scenery and costumes -by Kenneth Rowell. There was also an unusually excellent production of -_Giselle_, which first entered her repertoire in its full-length form in -1946, with Hugh Stevenson settings and costumes. - -While there was a period when Rambert seemed to be less interested in -ballets than in dancers, and the present organization would appear to be -best described as one where young dancers may be tested and proven, yet -Rambert alumnae and alumni are to be found in all the leading British -ballet companies. - -In the Coronation Honours List in 1953, Marie Rambert was awarded the -distinction of Companion of the British Empire. - - -_MIKHAIL MORDKIN_ - -Although he was under my management for only a brief time, I must, I -feel, make passing reference to Mikhail Mordkin as one of the Russian -_emigré_ artists who have been identified with ballet in America. His -contributions were neither profound nor considerable; but they should be -assessed and evaluated. - -Mordkin, born in Russia, in 1881, was a product of the Moscow School, -and eventually became a leading figure and one-time ballet-master of the -Bolshoi Theatre. - -So far as America is concerned, I sometimes like to think his greatest -contribution was his masculinity. Before he first arrived here in -support of Anna Pavlova in her initial American appearance, the average -native was inclined to take a very dim view indeed of a male dancer. -Mordkin’s athleticism and obvious virility were noted on every side. - -Strange combination of classical dancer, athlete, and clown, Mordkin’s -temperament was such that he experienced difficulty throughout his -career in adjusting himself to conditions and to people. He broke with -the Imperial Ballet; broke with Diaghileff; split with Pavlova. These -make-and-break associations could be extended almost indefinitely. - -For the record, I should mention that, following upon his split with -Pavlova, he had a brief American tour with his own company, calling it -the “All Star Imperial Russian Ballet,” and brought as its _ballerina_, -the doyenne of Russian _ballerinas_, Ekaterina Geltzer. Again, in 1928, -he returned to the States, under the management of Simeon Gest, with a -company that included Vera Nemtchinova, Xenia Macletzova, and the -English Hilda Butsova, along with Pierre Vladimiroff. - -Mordkin’s successes in Moscow had been considerable, but outside Russia -he always lagged behind the creative procession, largely, I suspect, -because of a stubborn refusal on Mordkin’s part to face up to the fact -that, although the root of ballet is classicism, styles change, the -world moves forward. Ballet is no exception. Mordkin clung too -tenaciously to the faults of the past, as well as to its virtues. - -From the ballet school he founded in New York has come a number of -first-rate dancing talents. The later Mordkin Ballet, in 1937-1938, and -1938-1939, left scarcely a mark on the American ballet picture. It -lacked many things, not the least of which was a _ballerina_ equal to -the great classical roles. Its policy, if any, was as dated as Mordkin -himself. - -If there was a contribution to ballet in America made by Mordkin, it was -a fortuitous one. Choreographically he composed nothing that will be -remembered. But there was a Mordkin company of sorts, and some of its -members formed the nucleus of what eventually became Ballet Theatre. - -On 15th July, 1944, Mikhail Mordkin died at Millbrook, New Jersey. - - -_VASLAV NIJINSKY_ - -Nijinsky has become a literature and a legend. The story of his tragic -life has been told and re-told. His feats as a dancer, his experiments -as a choreographer, became a legend, even while he lived. - -I regret I never knew him. Those who did know him and with whom I have -discussed him, are, for the large part, idolators. That he was a genius -they are all agreed. They insist he could leap higher, could remain -longer in the air--but there is little point in dwelling on the legend. -It is well-known; and legends are the angel’s food on which we thrive. - -Nijinsky’s triumphs came at a time when there were great figures -bursting over the horizon; at a time when there was so little basis for -comparison; at a time when it was extremely difficult for the public to -appraise, because the public had so little basis for comparison. - -How separate fact from fiction? It is difficult, if not quite -impossible. It was the time of the “greatests”: Kubelik, the “greatest” -violinist; Mansfield, the “greatest” actor; Irving, the “greatest” -actor; Modjeska, the “greatest” actress; Bernhardt, the “greatest” -actress; Ellen Terry, the “greatest” actress; Duse, the “greatest” -actress. - -It is such an easy matter when, prompted by the nostalgic urge, to -contemplate longingly a by-gone “Golden Age.” In music, it is equally -simple: Anton Rubinstein, Franz Liszt, de Pachmann, Geraldine Farrar, -Enrico Caruso ... and so it goes. Each was the “greatest.” Nijinsky has -become a part and parcel of the “greatest” legend. - -Jan Kubelik, one of the greatest violinists of his generation, is an -example. When I brought Kubelik for his last American appearance in -1923, I remember a gathering in the foyer of the Brooklyn’s Academy of -Music at one of the concerts he gave there. The younger generation of -violinists were out in force, and a number of them were in earnest -conversation during the interval in the concert. - -Their general opinion was that Kubelik had remained away from America -too long; that he was, in fact, slipping. Sol Elman, the father of -Mischa, listened attentively. When the barrage had expended itself, he -spoke. - -“My dear friends,” he said, “Kubelik played the Paganini concerto -tonight as splendidly as ever he did. Today you have a different -standard. You have Elman, Heifetz, and the rest. All of you have -developed and grown in artistry, technique, and, above all, in knowledge -and appreciation. The point is: you know more; not that Kubelik plays -less well.” - -It is all largely a matter of first impressions and their vividness. It -is the first impressions that color our memories and often form the -basis of our judgments. As time passes, I sometimes wonder how reliable -the first impressions may be. - -I am unable to state dogmatically that Nijinsky was the “greatest” -dancer of our time or of all time. On the other hand, there cannot be -the slightest question that he was a very great personality. The quality -of personality is the one that really matters. - -Today there are, I suppose, between five and six hundred first-class -pianists, for example. These pianists are, in many cases, considerably -more than competent. But to find the great personality in these five to -six hundred talents is something quite different. - -The truly great are those who, through something that can only be -described as personality, electrify the public. The public, once -electrified, will come to see them again and again and again. There are, -perhaps, too many good talents. There never can be enough great artists. - -Vaslav Nijinsky was one of the great ones--a great artist, a great -personality. There are those who can argue long and in nostalgic detail -about his technique, its virtues and its defects. Artistry and -personality transcend technique; for mere technique, however flawless, -is not enough. - -It must be borne in mind that Nijinsky’s public career in the Western -World was hardly more than seven years long. The legend of Nijinsky -commenced with his first appearance in Paris in _Le Spectre de la Rose_, -in 1912. It may have been started, fostered, and developed by -Diaghileff, continued by Nijinsky’s wife. It is quite possible this is -true; but true or not, it does not affect the validity of the legend. - -The story of Nijinsky’s peculiarly romantic marriage, his subsequent -madness, his alleged partial recovery, his recent death have all been -set down for posterity by his wife. I am by no means an all-out admirer -of these books; and I am not able to accept or agree with many of the -statements and implications in them. Yet the loyalty and devotion she -exhibited towards him can only be regarded as admirable. - -The merit of her ministrations to the sick man, on the one hand, hardly -condones her literary efforts, on the other. Frequently, I detect a -quality in the books that reveals itself more strongly as the predatory -female than as the protective wife-mother. I cannot accept Romola -Nijinsky’s reiterated portraits of Diaghileff as the avenging monster -any more than I can the following statement in her latest book, _The -Last Days of Nijinsky_, published in 1952: - -“Undoubtedly, the news that Vaslav was recuperating became more and more -known; therefore it was not surprising that one day he received a cable -with an offer from Mr. Hurok, the theatrical impresario, asking him to -come over to New York and appear. My son-in-law, who had just arrived to -spend the week-end with us, advised me to cable back accepting the -offer, for then we automatically could have escaped from Europe and -would have been able to depart at once. But I felt I could not accept a -contract for Vaslav and commit him. There was no question at the time -that Vaslav should appear in public. Nevertheless, I hoped that the -impresario, who was a Russian himself and who had made his name and -fortune in America managing Russian dancers in the past, would have -vision enough and a humanitarian spirit in helping to get the greatest -Russian dancer out of the European inferno. What I did not know at the -time was that there was quite a group of dancers who had got together -and who worked in silence to keep Nijinsky out of the United States and -from public life. Illness had removed the artist with whom they could -not compete. They dreaded his coming back.” - -While the entire paragraph tends to give a distorted picture of the -situation, the last three sentences are as far from the truth as they -possibly can be. The implied charge is almost too stupid to contradict -or refute. Were it not for the stigma it imputes to many fine artists -living in this country, I should ignore it completely. However, the -facts are quite simple. It is by no means an easy matter to bring into -the United States any person in ill health, either physical or mental. -So far as the regulations were concerned, Nijinsky was but another -alien. It was impossible to secure a visa or an entry permit. It was -equally impossible to secure the proper sort of doctors’ certificates -that could have been of material aid in helping secure such papers. - -I have a vivid memory of a meeting of dancers at the St. Regis Hotel in -New York to discuss what could be done. Anton Dolin was a prime mover in -the plan to give assistance. There was a genuine enthusiasm on the part -of the dancers present. Unfortunately, the economics of the dance are -such that dancers are quite incapable of undertaking long-term financial -commitments. But a substantial number of pledges were offered. - -It certainly was not a question of “quite a group of dancers who had got -together and who worked in silence to keep Nijinsky out of the United -States and from public life.” There was no question or suggestion that -he should appear in public, incidentally. There was only the sheer -inability to get him into the country. If there was any “dread” of “his -coming back,” it could only have been the dread that their former -colleague, ill in mind and body, might be in danger of being exploited -by the romantic author. - -Nijinsky, the legend, will endure as long as ballet, because the legend -has its roots in genius. Legend apart, no one from the Maryinsky stable, -no one in the fairly long history of ballet, as a matter of fact, has -given ballet a more complete service. And it should be remembered that -this service was rendered in a career that actually covered less than a -decade. - - -_A QUARTET OF IMPERIALISTS_ - -There is left for consideration a Russian male quartet, three of them -still living, who, in one degree or another, have made contributions to -ballet in our time, either in the United States or Europe. Their -contributions vary in quality and degree, exactly as the four gentlemen -differ in temperament and approach. I shall first deal briefly with the -three living members of the quartet, two of whom are American citizens -of long standing. - - -_THEODORE KOSLOFF_ - -I commence with one whose contributions to ballet have been the least. I -mention him at all only because, historically speaking, he has been -identified with dance in America a long time. With perhaps a single -notable exception, Theodore Kosloff’s contributions in all forms have -been slight. - -The best has been through teaching, for it is as a teacher that he is -likely to be remembered longest. Spectacular in his teaching methods as -he is in person, it has been from his school that has come a substantial -number of artists of the dance who have made a distinctive place for -themselves in the dance world of America. - -Outstanding among these are Agnes de Mille, who has made an ineradicable -mark with her highly personal choreographic style, and Nana Gollner, -American _ballerina_ of fine if somewhat uncontrolled talents, the -latter having received almost all her training at Kosloff’s hands and -cane. - -Theodore Kosloff was born in 1883. A pupil of the Moscow rather than the -Petersburg school, he eventually became a minor soloist at the Bolshoi -Theatre in Moscow, appearing in, among others, _The Sleeping Beauty_ and -_Daughter of Pharaoh_. When Diaghileff recruited his company, Kosloff -and his wife, Maria Baldina, were among the Muscovites engaged. Kosloff -was little more than a _corps de ballet_ member with Diaghileff, with an -occasional small solo. But he had a roving and retentive eye. - -When Gertrude Hoffman and Morris Gest decided to jump the Russian Ballet -gun on Broadway, and to present their _Saison de Ballets Russes_ at the -Winter Garden in advance of Diaghileff’s first American visit, it was -Theodore Kosloff who restaged the Fokine works for Hoffman, without so -much as tilt of the hat or a by-your-leave either to the creator or the -owner. - -Remaining in the States after the demise of the venture, Kosloff for a -time appeared in vaudeville with his wife, Baldina, and his younger -brother, Alexis, also a product of the Moscow School. One of these tours -took them to California, where Theodore settled in Hollywood. Here, -almost simultaneously, he opened his school and associated himself with -Cecil B. de Mille as an actor in silent film “epics.” He was equally -successful at both. - -Kosloff’s purely balletic activities thereafter included numerous -movie-house “presentations”--the unlamented spectacles that preceded the -feature film in the silent picture days, in palaces like Grauman’s -Egyptian and Grauman’s Chinese; a brief term as ballet-master of the San -Francisco Opera Ballet; and colossal and pepped-up versions of -_Petroushka_ and _Schéhérazade_, the former in Los Angeles, the latter -at the Hollywood Bowl. - -Today, at seventy, Kosloff pounds his long staff at classes in the -shadow of the Hollywood hills, directing all his activity at perspiring -and aspiring young Americans, who in increasing numbers are looking -towards the future through the medium of ballet. - - -_LAURENT NOVIKOFF_ - -The three living members of this male quartet were all Muscovites, which -is to say, products of the Imperial School of Moscow and dancers of the -Bolshoi Theatre, rather than products of the Maryinsky. In Russian -ballet this was a sharp distinction and a fine one, with the -Maryinskians inclined to glance down the nose a bit at their Moscow -colleagues. And possibly with reason. - -Laurent Novikoff was born five years later than Theodore Kosloff; he -graduated from the Moscow School an equal number of years later. He -remained at the Bolshoi Theatre for only a year before joining the -Diaghileff Ballet in Paris for an equal length of time. On his return to -Moscow at the close of the Diaghileff season, he became a first dancer -at the Bolshoi, only to leave to become Anna Pavlova’s partner the next -year. As a matter of fact, the three remaining members of the quartet -were all, at one time or another, partners of Pavlova. - -With Pavlova, Novikoff toured the United States in 1913 and in 1914. -Returning once again to Moscow, he staged ballets for opera, and -remained there until the revolution, when he went to London and rejoined -the Diaghileff Company, only to leave and join forces once again with -Pavlova, remaining with her this time for seven years, and eventually -opening a ballet school in London. In 1929, Novikoff accepted an -invitation from the Chicago Civic Opera Company to become its -ballet-master; and later, for a period of five years, he was -ballet-master of the Metropolitan Opera Company. - -As a dancer, Novikoff had a number of distinguished qualities, including -a fine virility, a genuinely romantic manner, imagination and authority. -As a choreographer, he can hardly be classified as a progressive. While -he staged a number of works for Pavlova, including, among others, -_Russian Folk Lore_ and _Don Quixote_, most of his choreographic work -was with one opera company or another. In nearly all cases, ballet was, -as it still is, merely a poor step-sister in the opera houses and with -the opera companies, often regarded by opera directors merely as a -necessary nuisance, and only on rare occasions is an opera choreographer -ever given his head. - -A charming, cultured, and quite delightful gentleman, Laurent Novikoff -now lives quietly with his wife Elizabeth in the American middle west. - - -_ALEXANDRE VOLININE_ - -Alexandre Volinine was Anna Pavlova’s partner for a longer time than any -of the others. Born in 1883, he was a member of the same Moscow Imperial -class as Theodore Kosloff, attained the rank of first dancer at the -Bolshoi Theatre, and remained there for nine years. - -In 1910, he left Russia to become Pavlova’s partner, a position he held -intermittently for many years. Apart from being Pavlova’s chief support, -he made numerous American appearances. He was a member of Gertrude -Hoffman’s _Saison Russe_, at the Winter Garden, in 1911; and in the same -year supported the great Danish _ballerina_, Adeline Genée, at the -Metropolitan Opera House, in _La Danse_, “an authentic record by Mlle. -Genée of Dancing and Dancers between the years 1710 and 1845.” - -Volinine returned to the United States in 1912-1913, when, after the -historical break between Pavlova and Mordkin, the latter formed his -“All-Star Imperial Russian Ballet,” with Ekaterina Geltzer, Julia -Sedova, Lydia Lopokova, and Volinine. This was an ill-starred venture -from the start for no sooner had they opened at the Metropolitan Opera -House than Mordkin and Sedova quarrelled with Geltzer and, so -characteristic of Russian Ballet, the factions, in this case Polish and -English _versus_ Russian, took violent sides. Volinine was on the side -of the former. As a result of the company split, the English-Polish -section went off on a tour across the country with Volinine, who -augmented their tiny salaries by five dollars weekly from his private -purse. After they had worked their way through the Deep South and -arrived at Creole New Orleans, the manager decamped for a time, and a -tremulous curtain descended on the first act of _Coppélia_, not to rise. - -By one means or another, and with some help from the British Consul in -New Orleans, they managed to return to New York by way of a stuffy -journey in a vile-smelling freighter plying along the coast. By quick -thinking, and even quicker acting, including mass-sitting on the -manager’s doorstep, they forced that individual to arrange for the -passage back to England, which was accomplished with its share of -excitement; once back in England, Volinine returned to his place as -Pavlova’s first dancer. - -Volinine was the featured dancer with Pavlova in 1916, when I first met -her at the Hippodrome, and often accompanied us to supper. As the years -wore on, I learned to know and admire him. - -As a dancer, Volinine was a supreme technician, and, I believe, one of -the most perfect romantic dancers of his time. In his Paris school today -he is passing on his rare knowledge to the men of today’s generation of -_premières danseurs_. His teaching, combined with his quite superb -understanding of the scientific principles involved, are of great -service to ballet. Michael Somes, the first dancer of the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet, is among those who go to Volinine’s Paris studio for those -refining corrections obtainable only from a great teacher who has been a -great dancer. - -“Sasha” Volinine has, perhaps, spent as much or more of his professional -life in England, Australia, and other English-speaking countries, as any -Russian dancer. On the other hand, he speaks and understands less -English, perhaps, than any of the others. - -Often in America and London we have gone out to dine, to sup, often with -a group. “Sasha” invariably would be the first to ask the headwaiter or -_maître d’hôtel_ for a copy of the menu. Immediately he would -concentrate on it, poring over it, giving it seemingly careful scrutiny -and study. - -All the others in the party would have ordered, and then, after long -cogitation, “Sasha” would summon the waiter and, pointing to something -in the menu utterly irrelevant, would solemnly demand: “Ham and eggs.” - -I am happy to count “Sasha” Volinine among my old friends, and it is -always a pleasure to foregather with him when I am in Paris. - - -_ADOLPH BOLM_ - -If my old friend, Adolph Bolm, were here to read this, he probably would -be the first to object to being classified with this quartet of -“Imperialists.” He would have pointed out to me in his emphatic manner -that by far the greater part of his career had been spent in the United -States, working for ballet in America. He would have insisted that he -neither thought nor acted like an “Imperialist”: that he was a -progressive, not a reactionary; and he would, at considerable length, -have advanced his theory that all “Imperialists” were reactionaries. He -would have repeated to me that even when he was at the Maryinsky, he was -a rebel and a leader in the revolt against what he felt were the -stultifying influences of its inbred conservatism. This would have gone -on for some time, for Bolm was intelligent, literate, articulate, and -ready to make a speech at the drop of a ballet shoe, or no shoe at all. - -I have placed Bolm in this book among the “Imperialists” because he had -his roots in the Imperial Russian Ballet, where he was conditioned as -child and youth; he was a product of the School in Theatre Street and a -Maryinsky soloist for seven years; he was a contemporary and one-time -colleague of the three other members of this quartet, either in Russia -or with the Diaghileff Ballet Russe. - -Born in St. Petersburg in 1884, the son of the concert-master and -associate conductor of the French operatic theatre, the Mikhailovsky, -Bolm entered the School at ten, was a first-prize graduate in 1904. He -was never a great classical dancer; but he had a first-rate sense of the -theatre, was a brilliant character dancer, a superlative mime. - -Bolm was the first to take Anna Pavlova out of Russia, as manager and -first dancer of a Scandinavian and Central European tour that made -ballet history. He was, I happen to know, largely responsible in -influencing Pavlova temporarily to postpone the idea of a company of her -own and to abandon their own tour, because he believed the future of -Russian Ballet lay with Diaghileff. Although the Nijinsky legend -commences when Nijinsky first leapt through the window of the virginal -bedroom of _Le Spectre de la Rose_, in Paris in 1911, it was _Prince -Igor_ and Bolm’s virile, barbaric warrior chieftain that provided the -greater impact and produced the outstanding revelation of male dancing -such as the Western World had not hitherto known. - -Bolm was intimately associated with the Diaghileff invasion of the -United States, when Diaghileff, a displaced and dispirited person -sitting out the war in Switzerland, was invited to bring his company to -America by Otto H. Kahn. But, owing to the war and the disbanding of his -company, it was impossible for Diaghileff to reassemble the original -personnel. It was a grave problem. Neither Nijinsky, Fokine, nor -Karsavina was available. It was then that Bolm took on the tremendous -dual role of first dancer and choreographer, engaging and rehearsing -what was to all intents and purposes a new company in a repertoire of -twenty-odd ballets. The Diaghileff American tours were due in no small -degree to Bolm’s efforts in achieving what seemed to be the impossible. - -After the second Diaghileff American tour, during which Bolm was -injured, he remained in New York. Unlike many of his colleagues, his -quick intelligence grasped American ideas and points of view. This was -evidenced throughout his career by his interest in our native subjects, -composers, painters. - -With his own Ballet Intime, his motion picture theatre presentations of -ballet, his Chicago Allied Arts, his tenure with the Chicago Opera -Company, the San Francisco Opera Ballet, his production of _Le Coq d’Or_ -and two productions of _Petroushka_ at the Metropolitan Opera House, he -helped sow the seeds of real ballet appreciation across the country. - -My acquaintance and friendship with Adolph Bolm extended over a long -time. His experimental mind, his eagerness, his enthusiasm, his deep -culture, his capacity for friendship, his hospitality--all these -qualities endeared him to me. If one did not always agree with him (and -I, for one, did not), one could not fail to appreciate and respect his -honesty and sincerity. During a period when Ballet Theatre was under my -management, I was instrumental in placing him as the _régisseur general_ -(general stage director to those unfamiliar with ballet’s term for this -important functionary) of the company, feeling that his discipline, -knowledge, taste, and ability would be helpful to the young company in -maintaining a high performing standard. Unhappily, much of the good he -did and could do was negated by an unfortunate attitude on the part of -some of our younger American dancers, who have little or no respect for -tradition, reputation, or style, and who seem actively to resent -achievement--in an art that has its roots in the past although its -branches stretch out to the future--rather than respect and admire it. - -A striking example of this sort of thing took place when I had been -instrumental, later on, in having Bolm stage a new version of -Stravinsky’s _Firebird_, for Ballet Theatre, in 1945, with Alicia -Markova and Anton Dolin. - -My last meeting with Bolm took place at the opening performance of the -Sadler’s Wells production of _The Sleeping Beauty_, in Los Angeles. I -shall not soon forget his genuine enthusiasm and how he embraced Ninette -de Valois as he expressed his happiness that the great full-length -ballets in all their splendor had at last been brought to Los Angeles. - -In his later years, Bolm lived on a hilltop in Hollywood; in Hollywood, -but not of it, with Igor Stravinsky and Nicholas Remisoff as two of his -closest and most intimate friends. One night, in the spring of 1951, -Bolm went to sleep and did not wake again in this world. - -His life had been filled with an intense activity, a remarkable -productivity in his chosen field--thirty-five years of it in the United -States, in the triple role of teacher, dancer, choreographer. As I have -intimated before, Bolm’s understanding of the things that are at the -root of the American character was, in my opinion, deeper and more -profound than that of any of his colleagues. His achievements will live -after him. - -My last contacts with Bolm revealed to me a man still vital, still -eager; but a little soured, a shade bitter, because he was conscious the -world was moving on and felt that the ballet was shutting him out. - -Before that bitterness could take too deep a root in the heart and soul -of a gentle artist, a Divine Providence closed his eyes in the sleep -everlasting. - - - - -6. Tristan and Isolde: -Michel and Vera Fokine - - -If ever there were two people who seemingly were inseparable, they were -Michel and Vera Fokine. Theirs was a modern love story that could rank -with those of Abélard and Heloïse, Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde. -The romance of the Fokines continued, unabated, till death did them -part. - -The story of Michel Fokine’s revolution in modern ballet has become an -important part of ballet’s history. The casual ballet-goer, to whom one -name sounds very much like another, recognizes the name of Fokine. He -may not realize the full importance of the man, but he has been unable -to escape the knowledge that some of the ballets he knows and loves best -are Fokine works. - -The literature that has grown up around Michel Fokine and his work is -fairly voluminous, as was his due. Yet, for those of today’s generation, -who are prone to forget too easily, it cannot be repeated too often that -had it not been for Michel Fokine, there might not have been any such -thing as modern ballet. For ballet, wherein he worked his necessary and -epoch-making revolution, was in grave danger of becoming moribund and -static, and might well, by this time, have become extinct. - -He was a profound admirer of Isadora Duncan, although he denied he had -been influenced by her ideas. Fokine felt Duncan, in her concern for -movement, had brought dancing back to its beginnings. He was filled with -a divine disgust for the routine and the artificial practices of ballet -at the turn of the century. He was termed a heretic when he insisted -that each ballet demands a new technique appropriate to its style, -because he fought against the eternal stereotype. - -Fokine threw in his lot with Diaghileff and his group. With Diaghileff -his greatest masterpieces were created. Both Fokine and Diaghileff were -complicated human beings; both were artists. Problems were never simple -with either of them. There is no reason here to go into the causes for -the rupture between them. That there was a rupture and that it was never -completely healed is regrettable. It was tantamount to a divorce between -the parents of modern ballet. It was, as is so often the case in -divorce, the child that suffered. - -For a time following the break, the Fokines returned to Russia; and -then, in 1918, together with their son Vitale, spent some time in and -out of Finland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Conditions were not ideal -for creation, and nothing was added to the impressive list of Fokine -masterpieces. - -In 1919, Morris Gest was immersed in the production of a gargantuan -musical show destined for the Century Theatre: _Aphrodite_, based on an -English translation of Pierre Louys’ novel. Gest made Fokine an offer to -come to America to stage a Bacchanal for the work. Fokine accepted. -_Aphrodite_ was not a very good musical, nor was it, as I remember it, a -very exciting Bacchanal; but it was a great success. Fokine himself was -far from happy with it. - -For a number of reasons, the Fokines decided to make New York their -home. They eventually bought a large house, where Riverside Drive joins -Seventy-second Street; converted part of the house into a dancing -studio, and lived in the rest of the house in an atmosphere of nostalgic -gloom, a sort of Chopinesque twilight. Ballet in America was at a very -low ebb when Fokine settled here. There was a magnificent opportunity to -hand for the father of modern ballet, had he but taken it. For some -reason he muffed the big chance. Perhaps he was embittered by a series -of unhappy experiences, not the least of which was the changed political -scene in his beloved Russia, to which he was never, during the rest of -his life, able to make adjustment. He was content, as an artist, for the -most part to rest on his considerable laurels. There was always -_Schéhérazade_. More importantly, there was always _Sylphides_. - -Fokine’s creative life, in the true sense, was something he left behind -in Europe. He never seemed to sense or to try to understand the American -impulse, rhythm, or those things which lie at the root of our native -culture. In the bleak Riverside Drive mansion, he taught rather -half-heartedly at classes, but gave much of his time and energy in -well-paid private lessons to the untalented daughters of the rich. - -From the choreographic point of view, he was satisfied, for the most -part, to reproduce his early masterpieces with inferior organizations, -or to stage lesser pieces for the Hippodrome or the Ziegfeld Follies. -One of the latter will suffice as an example. It was called _Frolicking -Gods_, a whimsy about a couple of statues of Greek Gods who came to -life, became frightened at a noise, and returned to their marble -immobility. And it may be of interest to note that these goings-on were -all accomplished to, of all things, Tchaikowsky’s _Nutcracker Suite_. -There was also a pseudo-Aztec affair, devised, so far as tale was -concerned, by Vera Fokine, and called _The Thunder Bird_. The Aztec -quality was emphasized by the use of a pastiche of music culled from the -assorted works of Tchaikowsky, Glinka, Rimsky-Korsakoff, Balakirev, and -Borodine. - -It was during the winter of 1920, not long after the Fokines, with their -son Vitale, had arrived here, that we came together professionally. I -arranged to present them jointly in a series of programmes at the -Metropolitan Opera House, with Arnold Volpe and his Symphony Orchestra. - -Fokine came with me to see the Metropolitan stage. He arrived at what -might have been a ticklish moment. Fokine was extremely sensitive to -what he called “pirated” versions of his works. There was, of course, no -copyright protection for them, since choreography had no protection -under American copyright law. Fokine was equally certain that he, -Fokine, was the only person who could possibly reproduce his works. As -we entered the Metropolitan, Adolph Bolm was appearing in an -opera-ballet version of Rimsky-Korsakoff’s _Le Coq d’Or_. The -performance had commenced. - -As I have intimated, after he broke with Diaghileff, Fokine was so -depressed that for some time he could not work at all. Then he received -an invitation from Anna Pavlova to come to Berlin, where she was about -to produce some new ballets. Fokine accepted the invitation, and when -Pavlova asked him to suggest a subject, Fokine proposed a ballet based -on the opera, _Le Coq d’Or_. Pavlova, however, considered the plot of -the Rimsky-Korsakoff work to be too political, and also felt it unwise -of her to offer a subject burlesquing the Tsar. - -It was not until after Fokine temporarily returned to the Diaghileff -fold that _Le Coq d’Or_ achieved production. Diaghileff agreed with -Fokine on the subject, and Fokine was anxious that it should be mounted -in as modern a manner as possible. The story of the opera, based on -Pushkin’s well-known poem, as adapted to the stage by V. Bielsky, -requires no comment. Fokine’s opera-ballet production was, in its way, -quite unique. There were two casts, which is to say, singers and -dancers. While one character danced and acted, the words in the libretto -were spoken or sung by the dancing character’s counterpart. - -As a result of the Metropolitan Opera Company’s wartime ban on anything -German, in 1917, Pierre Monteux, the former Diaghileff conductor, was -imported by the Metropolitan for the expanded French list. One of the -results of Monteux’s influence on the Metropolitan repertoire was _Le -Coq d’Or_. Adolph Bolm, by that time resident in New York, having -remained here after the last Diaghileff American season, was engaged by -Otto H. Kahn to stage the work in the style of the Diaghileff -production. Bolm, who had his own ideas, nevertheless based his work on -Fokine’s basic plan, and that of the Fokine-Diaghileff production. Bolm -was meticulous, however, in insisting that credit be given to Fokine for -the original idea, and it was always billed as “after Michel Fokine.” -The Metropolitan production, as designed by the Hungarian artist, Willy -Pogany, whose sets were among the best the Metropolitan ever has seen, -resulted in one of the most attractive and exciting productions the -Metropolitan has achieved. Aside from the production itself, the singing -of the Spanish coloratura, Maria Barrientos, as the Queen, the -conducting of Monteux, and the dancing of Bolm as King Dodon, set a new -standard for the Metropolitan. - -On the occasion I have mentioned, we entered the front of the house, and -Fokine watched a bit of the performance with me, standing in the back of -the auditorium. He had no comment, which was unusual for him. - -After watching for a time, I asked Fokine if he would care to meet his -old colleague. He said he would. Together we felt our way back stage in -the dimly lighted passages. The pass-door to back-stage was even darker. -I stood aside to let Fokine precede me. Then my heart nearly stopped. -Fokine stumbled and nearly fell prostrate on the iron-concrete steps. He -picked himself up, brushed himself off. “Mikhail Mikhailovitch,” I said, -half frightened to death, “you must be careful.” - -“It is nothing,” he replied, “but why in hell isn’t the place properly -lighted?” - -The meeting with Bolm, who had made Fokine’s favorite ballet even more -exciting than it actually was, was cordial enough, cool, and uneventful. -Bolm was by far the more demonstrative. Their conversation was general -rather than particular. Fokine and I looked over the stage, its size and -its equipment. Fokine thanked Bolm, apologized for the interruption, and -took his leave. As we felt our way out to the street, Fokine’s only -comment on _Le Coq d’Or_ was, “The women’s shawls should be farther back -on the head. They are quite impossible when worn like that. And when -they weep, they should weep.” - -Fokine was a stickler for detail. In conversation about dancing, over -and over again he would use two Russian words, “_Naslajdaites_” and -“_laska_.” Freely translated, those Russian words suggest “do it as -though you enjoyed yourself” and “caressingly.” - -The programme for the appearances at the Metropolitan had been carefully -worked out, balanced with joint performances, solos for each, with -symphony orchestra interludes while Michel and Vera were changing -costumes. For the opening performance it was decided that Michel and -Vera would jointly do the lovely waltz from _Les Sylphides_; a group of -Caucasian dances to music arranged by Asafieff; the Mazurka from -Delibes’ _Coppélia_; and a group of five Russian dances by Liadov. -Fokine himself would do the male solo, the Mazurka from _Les Sylphides_, -and a Liadov _Berceuse_; while Vera’s solo contributions would be _The -Dying Swan_, and the arrangement Fokine made for her of Beethoven’s -“_Moonlight Sonata_.” - -The advertising campaign was under full steam ahead, and rehearsals were -well under way. So well were things going, in fact, that I relaxed my -habitual pre-opening tension for a moment at my home, which was, in -those days, in Brooklyn. I even missed a rehearsal, since Fokine was at -his very best, keen and interested, and the music was in the able hands -of Arnold Volpe, a musician who worked passionately for the highest -artistic aims, a Russian-born American - -[Illustration: - - _Baron_ - -S. Hurok] - -[Illustration: - -_Lucas-Pritchard_ - -Mrs. Hurok] - -[Illustration: _Lido_ - -Lubov Egorova and Solange Schwartz] - -[Illustration: Marie Rambert] - -[Illustration: _Lido_ - -Olga Preobrajenska in her Paris school] - -[Illustration: Lydia Lopokova - -_Hoppé_] - -[Illustration: Tamara Karsavina] - -[Illustration: Mathilde Kchessinska - -_Lido_ -] - -[Illustration: _Maurice Goldberg_ - -Michel Fokine] - -[Illustration: Adolph Bolm - -_Maurice Seymour_] - -[Illustration: _Acme_ - -Anna Pavlova] - -[Illustration: - - Alexandre Volinine in his Paris studio, with Colette Marchand - -_Lido_] - -[Illustration: - -_Baker_ - - Ballet Pioneering in America: “Sasha” Philipoff, Irving Deakin, - Olga Morosova, “Colonel” W. de Basil, Sono Osato -] - -[Illustration: - - S. Hurok, “Colonel” W. de Basil and leading members of the de Basil - Ballet Russe, 1933. Back row: David Lichine, Vania Psota, Sasha - Alexandroff, S. Hurok; Center row: Leonide Massine, Tatiana - Riabouchinska, Col. W. de Basil, Nina Verchinina, Yurek - Shabalevsky; Front row: Edward Borovansky, Tamara Toumanova - -_Nikoff_ -] - -pioneer in music. Volpe devoted his entire life, from the time of his -arrival in this country until his death, to the cause of young American -musicians. He was an ideal collaborator for the Fokines. There was a -fine understanding between Fokine and Volpe, and the performances, -therefore, were splendid. I felt content. - -But not for long. My peace of mind was shattered by a telephone call. It -was Mrs. Volpe. The news was bad. Fokine had suffered an injury during -rehearsal. He had pulled a leg tendon. The pain was severe. The -rehearsal had been abandoned. - -I rushed to Manhattan and up to the old Marie Antoinette Hotel, famous -as the long-time home of that wizard of the American theatre, David -Belasco. Here the Fokines had made their temporary home, while searching -for a house. Michel was in bed, with Vera in solicitous attendance. To -understate, the news was very bad. The doctor, who had just left, had -said it would be at least six weeks before he could permit Fokine to -dance. - -But the performance _had_ to be given Tuesday night. It was now Sunday. -There was all the publicity, all the advertising, and the rent of the -Metropolitan Opera House had to be paid. This was not all. A tour had -been booked to follow the Metropolitan appearance, including -Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, and Richmond. Apart from my own -expenses, there were the responsibilities to the various local managers -and managements concerned. Something had to be done, and at once. The -newspapers had to be informed. - -The silence of the hotel bedroom, hitherto broken only by Vera’s cooing -ministrations, deepened. It was I who spoke. An idea flashed through my -mind. - -“Mikhail Mikhailovitch,” I said, “could Vera Petrovna do a full -programme on Tuesday night on her own?” - -Michel and Vera exchanged glances. There was something telepathic in the -communication between their eyes. - -Fokine turned his head in my direction. - -“Yes,” he said. - -Quickly the programme was rearranged. Fokine suggested adding a Chopin -group, which he called _Poland--Three Moods: Happiness, Revolt, -Sadness_. - -We went into action. The orchestra seat prices were five dollars, and a -five-dollar top was high in those days. Announcements were rushed out, -informing the public in big type that Vera Fokina, _Prima Ballerina -Russian Ballet_, would appear, together with the adjusted programme, -which we agreed upon as follows: Arnold Volpe and his Symphony Orchestra -would play Weber’s _Oberon_ Overture; Saint-Saens’ Symphonic Poem, -_Rouet d’Omphale_; Beethoven’s _Egmont Overture_; Rimsky-Korsakoff’s -_Capriccio Espagnol_; Ippolitoff-Ivanoff’s _Caucasian Sketches_; and the -_Wedding Procession_ from Rimsky-Korsakoff’s _Le Coq d’Or_. Fokina had -an evening cut out for her: the three Polish moods I have mentioned; -_The Dying Swan_; _The “Moonlight” Sonata_; the _Danses Tziganes_, by -Nachez; _Sapeteado_, a Gitano Dance, by Hartmann; two _Caucasian -Dances_, to folk music arranged by Asafief; and four of Liadov’s -_Russian Folk Dances_. - -A large sign to the same effect was installed in the lobby of the -Metropolitan Opera House. The news spread quickly. But the public did -not seem to mind. In this eleventh-hour shifting of arrangements, I was -happy to have the whole-hearted cooperation of John Brown and Edward -Ziegler, the administrative heads of the Metropolitan Opera Company. - -The first performance was sold out; the audience was enthusiastic. -Moreover, while in those days there were no dance critics, the press -comment, largely a matter of straight reporting, was highly favorable. I -should like to quote _The New York Times_ account in full as an example -of the sort of attention given then to such an important event, some -thirty-odd years ago: _“FOKINA’S ART DELIGHTS METROPOLITAN AUDIENCE--Her -Husband and Partner Ill, Russian Dancers Interest Throng Alone, with -Volpe’s Aid: Vera Fokina, the noted Russian dancer performed an unusual -feat on February 11, when she kept a great audience in the Metropolitan -keenly interested in her art for almost three hours. When it was -announced that Mr. Fokine, her husband, was ill and therefore not able -to carry out his part of the program, a murmur of dissatisfaction was -audible. But the auditors soon forgot their disappointment and wondered -at Mme. Fokina’s graceful and vivid interpretations_. - -“_Among the best liked of her offerings was the ‘Dying Swan,’ with -Saint-Saens’s music. Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ Sonata, well played by an -invisible pianist, Izia Seligman, and the Russian and Gipsy pieces. She -was compelled to give many encores._ - -“_Arnold Volpe and his orchestra took a vital part in the program, -playing the music with a fine instinct for the interpretative ideas of -the dancer. He conducted his forces through some of the compositions -intended as the vehicles for the absent Mr. Fokine, and thus won an -honest share in the success of the entertainment._” - -So much for ballet criticism in New York in 1920. - -The tour had to go on with Fokina alone, although Fokine had recovered -sufficiently to hobble about and to supervise and direct and oversee. A -certain Mr. K. had associated himself as a sort of local representative. -Mr. K. was not much of a local manager; but he did have an unholy talent -for cheque-bouncing. It was not a matter of one or two, due to some -error; they bounded and bounced all over the country in droves, and -daily. If the gods that be had seen fit to give me a less sound nervous -system than, happily, they have, K.’s financial antics could have -brought on a nervous breakdown. - -At the same time, Fokine, with his tremendous insistence on perfection, -hobbled about, giving orders to all and sundry in a mixture of -languages--Russian, French, German, Swedish, and Danish--that no one, -but no one, was able to understand. Even up to the time of his death, -English was difficult for Mikhail Mikhailovitch, and he spoke it, at all -times, with an unreproducible accent. His voice, unless excited, was -softly guttural. In typically Russian fashion, he interchanged the -letters “g” and “h.” Always there was an almost limitless range of -facial expressions. - -On this tour, Fokine, being unable to dance, had more time on his hands -to worry about everything else. His lighting rehearsals were long and -chaotic, since provincial electricians were not conspicuous either for -their ability, their interest, or their patience. During the lighting -rehearsals, since he was immobilised by his injury, Fokine and Vera -would sit side by side. He knew what he wanted; but, before he would -finally approve anything, he would turn to her for her commendation; and -there would pass between them that telepathic communication I often saw, -and about which I have remarked before. Occasionally, if something -amused them, they would laugh together; but, more often than not, their -faces revealed no more than would a skilled poker-player’s. - -Fokine could manage to keep his temper on an even keel for a -considerable time, if he put his mind to it. There was no affectation -about Fokine, either artistically or personally. In appearance there was -not a single one of those artificial eccentricities so often associated -with the “artistic temperament.” To the man in the street he would have -passed for a solidly successful business man. At work he was a -taskmaster unrelenting, implacable, fanatical frequently to the point of -downright cruelty. At rest, he was a gentleman of great charm and -simplicity, with a sense of humor and a certain capacity for enjoyment. -Unfortunately, his sense of humor had a way of deserting him at critical -moments. This, coupled with a lack of tact, made him many enemies among -those who were once his closest friends. These occasional flashes of -geniality came only when things were going his way; but, if things did -not go as he wanted, his rages could be and were devastating, -all-consuming. - -One such incident occurred in Philadelphia. As a matter of fact, -Philadelphia was marked by incidents. The first was one I had with -Edward Lobe, then manager of Philadelphia’s Metropolitan Opera House, -then at Broad and Poplar Streets. It had to do with some of the bouncing -K.’s bouncing paper. This straightened out, I returned to the stage to -find turmoil rampant. There was another crisis. - -The crisis had been precipitated by the man whose job it was to operate -the curtain. Fokine had shouted and screamed “_Zanovess! Zanovess!_” at -the unfortunate individual. Now “_Zanovess_” is the Russian word for -curtain. The curtain had not fallen. Fokine could not say “curtain.” The -operator did not have the vaguest idea of the meaning of “_zanovess_.” -Moreover, the stage-hand suspected, from the tone of Fokine’s voice, his -barked order, and the fierce expression of his face that he was being -called names. When, finally, Fokine screamed “_Idyot!_” at him, the -curtain-man knew for sure he had been insulted. The argument and -hostility spread through his colleagues. - -Eventually, I got them calmed down. Fokine insisted they were all -idiots; they were all ignorant. This idea leaked through to the -stage-hands, and that did not help matters. I finally suggested that, -since neither of them could understand the other, the best procedure -would be not to scream and shout and stomp--uttering strange mixed -French and Russian oaths--but to be quiet and to show by gesture and -pantomime, rather than to give unintelligible verbal orders. So, with -only minor subsequent scenes, the rehearsal got itself finished. - -Also, in Philadelphia, we had substituted _Salome’s Dance of the Seven -Veils_, done to Glazounov’s score of the same name, in place of the -_“Moonlight” Sonata._ It is hardly necessary to point out that the -veils, all seven of them, are vastly important. Because of their -importance, these had been entrusted to the keeping of Clavia, Vera’s -Russian maid, instead of being packed with the other costumes. But, come -performance time, Clavia could not be found. Hue and cry were raised; -her hotel alerted; restaurants searched; but still no Clavia. She simply -had to be found. I pressed Marie Volpe, Arnold Volpe’s singer-wife, into -the breach to act as maid for Vera, and to help her dress. But only -Clavia knew where Salome’s veils had been secreted. The performance -started. The search continued. - -Suddenly, there came a series of piercing screams emanating from an -upper floor dressing-room. Haunted by visions of the Phantom of the -Opera, I rushed up the stairs to find Clavia lying on the floor, -obviously in pain. We managed to get her down to Fokina’s room and -placed her on the couch in what was known in Philadelphia as “Caruso’s -Room,” the star dressing-room Fokina was using. As we entered, Fokina -stood ready to go on stage, costumed for _The Dying Swan_. The situation -was obvious. Clavia was about to give birth to a child. The labor pains -had commenced. I pushed Vera on to the stage and Marie Volpe into the -room--in the nick of time. Mrs. Volpe, a concert singer, pinch-hitting -as a maid for Vera, now turned midwife for the first time in her life. -By the time the ambulance and the doctor arrived, mother and infant were -doing as well as could be expected. - -Next morning Mrs. Volpe found herself a new role. A lady of high moral -scruples, herself a mother, she had realized that no one had mentioned a -father for the child. Mrs. Volpe had assumed the role of detective (a -dangerous one, I assure the reader, in ballet), and was determined to -run down the child’s father. The newspaper stories, with the headline: -“_CHILD BORN IN CARUSO’S DRESSING ROOM_,” had not been too reassuring to -Mrs. Volpe. I counselled her that she would be well advised to let the -matter drop. - -On our arrival in Baltimore, I was greeted by the news that my -rubber-wizard of a local manager, the bouncing Mr. K., had decamped with -the box-office sale, leaving behind only some rubber cheques. This, in -itself, I felt was enough for one day. But it was not to be. Vera, as -curtain time approached, once again was up to her usual business of -exhibiting “temperament,” spoiling her life, as she so often did in this -respect, throughout her dancing career. - -“What is it now?” I asked. - -She waxed wroth with great volubility and at considerable length, with -profound indignation that the stage floor-cloth was, as she said, -“impossible.” Nothing I could say was of any avail. Vera refused, -absolutely, irrevocably, unconditionally, to dance. Mrs. Volpe was to -help her into her street clothes, and at once. She would return to her -hotel. She would return to New York. I must cancel the engagement, the -tour, all because of the stage-cloth. And the audience was already -filling the theatre. - -I thought quickly and went into action. Calling the head carpenter and -the property man together, I got them to turn the floor-cloth round. -Then, going back to the dressing-room, where Vera was preparing to -leave, I succeeded in convincing her by showing her that it was an -entirely new doth that we had just got for her happiness. - -Vera Fokina never danced better than that night in Baltimore. - -Our farewell performance, with both Fokines dancing, took place at -Charles Dillingham’s Hippodrome, on Sunday evening, 29th May, 1920. For -this occasion, the Fokines appeared together, by popular request, in the -Harlequin and Columbine variation from his own masterpiece, _Carnaval_; -Fokine alone danced the _Dagestanskaja Lezginka_, and staged a work he -called _Amoun and Berenis_, actually scenes from his _Une Nuit -d’Egypte_, which Diaghileff called _Cléopâtre_, adapted, musically, from -Anton Arensky’s score for the ballet. I quote Fokine’s own libretto for -the work: - - Amoun and Berenis are engaged in the sport of hunting. She - represents Gazelle, and he the hunter who wounds her in the breast. - The engaged couple plight each other to everlasting love. But soon - Amoun betrays his bride. He falls in love with Queen Cleopatra. Not - having the opportunity of coming near his beloved queen, he sends - an arrow with a note professing his love and readiness to sacrifice - his life for her. Notwithstanding the tears and prayers of Berenis, - he throws himself into the arms of Cleopatra, and, lured by her - tenderness, he accepts from her hands a cup of poison, drinks it - and dies. Berenis finds the corpse of her lover, forgives him and - mourns his death. - -The Hippodrome version consisted of “The Meeting of Amoun and Berenis” -“The Entrance of Cleopatra,” by the orchestra; “The Dance Before -Cleopatra”; “The Betrayal of Amoun and the Jealousy of Berenis”; “The -Hebrew Dance,” by the orchestra; “The Death of Amoun and the Mourning of -Berenis.” - -In 1927, I presented the Fokines with their “American Ballet,” composed -of their pupils, at the Masonic Auditorium, in Detroit, and on -subsequent tours. Prominent professional dancers were added to the pupil -roster. - -That summer, with the Fokines and their company, I introduced ballet to -the Lewisohn Stadium Concerts in New York, for three performances, to a -record audience of forty-eight thousand people. I also presented them -for four performances at the Century Theatre in Central Park West. The -Stadium programmes included _Les Elves_, arranged to Mendelssohn’s -_Overture to a Midsummer Night’s Dream_, with the addition of the same -composer’s Andante and Allegro from the _Violin Concerto_. Also -_Medusa_, a tragedy set to Tchaikowsky’s _Symphonie Pathétique_, a work -for four characters, the title role being danced by Vera Fokina, and the -sea god Poseidon, who fell in love with the beautiful Medusa, danced by -Fokine. - -It was during one of the Stadium performances, I remember, I had -occasion to go to the Fokines’ dressing-room on some errand. I knocked, -and believing I heard an invitation to enter, opened the door to -discover the two Fokines dissolved in tears of happiness. So moved was -Michel by Vera’s performance of the title role in _Medusa_, that they -were sobbing in each other’s arms. - -“Wonderful, wonderful, my darling!” Fokine was murmuring. “Such a -beautiful performance; and to think you did it all in such a short -period, with so very few rehearsals; and the really amazing thing is -that you portrayed the character of the creature precisely as it is in -my mind!” - -In the love, the adoration, the romance of Michel and Vera Fokine, there -was the greatest continuous devotion between man and wife that it has -been my privilege to know. - -Fokine’s American ballet creations have been lost. Perhaps it is as -well. For the closing chapter of the life of a truly great artist they -were sadly inferior. Towards the end of his career, however, he staged -some fresh, new works in France for René Blum’s Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, including _Les Elements_, _Don Juan_, and _L’Epreuve d’Amour_. -Then, for de Basil’s Original Ballet Russe, _Cinderella_, or since he -used the French, _Cendrillon_, to a commissioned score by Baron Frederic -d’Erlanger, which might have been better. But choreographically -_Cendrillon_ was a return to the triumphant Fokine. There was also his -triumphant re-staging of _Le Coq d’Or_. Perhaps his last really great -triumph was his collaboration with Serge Rachmaninoff on _Paganini_, a -work that takes rank with Fokine’s finest. - -Fokine restaged _Les Sylphides_ and _Carnaval_ for Ballet Theatre’s -initial season. When Ballet Theatre was under my management, he created -_Bluebeard_, in 1941, for Anton Dolin. In 1942, I was instrumental in -having German Sevastianov engage Fokine to stage the nostalgic tragedy, -_Russian Soldier_, to the music of Prokofieff. - -While in Mexico, in the summer of 1942, working on _Helen of Troy_, for -Ballet Theatre, Fokine contracted pleurisy, which developed into -pneumonia on his return to New York, where he died, on 22nd August. For -a dancer, he was on the youthful side. He was born in Mannheim-am-Rhine, -Germany, 26th April, 1880, the son of Ekaterina Gindt. According to the -official records of the St. Petersburg Imperial School, his father was -unknown. He was adopted by a merchant, Mikhail Feodorovitch Fokine, who -gave him his name. In 1898, he graduated from the St. Petersburg -Imperial School. In 1905, he married Vera Petrovna Antonova, the -daughter of a master of the wig-maker’s Guild, who had graduated from -the School the year before. - -At the funeral service at the Russian Orthodox Cathedral, in New York, -were assembled all of the dance world in New York in mid-summer, to do -him honor. - -Some of his works will live on, but they suffer with each passing year -because, in most cases, they are not properly done. The Sadler’s Wells -and Royal Danish Ballet productions of the Fokine works are the -exceptions. But all his works suffered continually during his lifetime, -because Fokine had a faulty memory, and his restaging of the works was, -all too often, the product of unhappy afterthoughts. Towards the end of -his life he became more and more embittered. He, the one-time great -revolutionary, resented the new developments in ballet, perhaps because -they had not been developed by Fokine. - -This bitterness was quite unnecessary, for Fokine remains the greatest -creator of modern ballet. His works, properly staged, will always -provide a solid base for all ballet programmes. Despite the hue and cry, -despite the lavish praise heaped upon each new experiment by modern -choreographers, and upon the choreographers themselves, in all -contemporary ballet there is no one to take his place. - -Other ballet-masters, other choreographers, working with the same basic -materials, in the same spirit, in the same language, often require -detailed synopses and explanations for their works, in spite of which -the meaning of them often remains lost in the murk of darkest obscurity. -I remember once asking Fokine to supply a synopsis of one of his new -works for programme purposes. I shall not forget his reply: “No synopsis -is needed for my ballets. My ballets unfold their stories on the stage. -There is never any doubt as to what they say.” - -I have visited Vera Petrovna Fokine in the castle on the Hudson where -she lives in lonely nostalgia. But it is not quite true that she lives -alone; for she lives with the precious memory of a great love, a -tremendous reputation, the memory of a great artist, the artist who -created _Les Sylphides_, _Prince Igor_, and _Petroushka_. - - - - -7. Ballet Reborn In America: -W. De Basil and His -Ballets Russes De Monte Carlo - - -The last of the two American tours of Serge de Diaghileff’s Ballets -Russes was during the season 1916-1917. - -The last American tour of Anna Pavlova and her company was during the -season 1925-1926. - -Serge Diaghileff died at Venice, on 19th August, 1929. - -Anna Pavlova died at The Hague, on 23rd January, 1931. - -W. de Basil’s Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo gave their first American -performances at the St. James Theatre, New York, on 21st December, 1933. - -Such ballet as America saw between Pavlova’s last performance in 1926 -and the first de Basil performance in 1933, may be briefly stated. - -From 1924 to 1927, in Chicago, there was the Chicago Allied Arts, -sometimes described as the first “ballet theatre” in the United States, -sparked by Adolph Bolm. - -In 1926 and 1927, there were a few sporadic performances by Mikhail -Mordkin and his Russian Ballet Company, which included Xenia Macletzova, -Vera Nemtchinova, Hilda Butsova, and Pierre Vladimiroff. - -From 1928 to 1931, Leonide Massine staged weekly ballet productions at -the Roxy Theatre, in New York, including a full-length _Schéhérazade_, -with four performances daily, Massine acting both as choreographer and -leading dancer. In 1930, he staged Stravinsky’s _Le Sacre du Printemps_, -for four performances in Philadelphia and two at the Metropolitan Opera -House, in New York, with the collaboration of Leopold Stokowski and the -Philadelphia Orchestra, and with Martha Graham making one of her rare -appearances in ballet, in the leading role. - -That is the story. Hardly a well-tilled ground in which to sow balletic -seed with the hope of a bumper crop. It is not surprising that all my -friends and all my rival colleagues in the field of management -prophesied dire things for me (presumably with different motives) when I -determined on the rebirth of ballet in America in the autumn of 1933. -Their predictions were as mournful as those of Macbeth’s witches. - -The ballet situation in the Western World, after the deaths of -Diaghileff and Pavlova, save for the subsidized ballets at the Paris -Opera and La Scala in Milan, was not vastly different. If you will look -through the files of the European newspapers of the period, you will -find an equally depressing note: “The Swan passes, and ballet with her” -... “The puppet-master is gone; the puppets must be returned to their -boxes” ... and a bit later: “Former Diaghileff dancers booked to appear -in revues and cabaret turns.” ... - -In England, J. Maynard Keynes, Lydia Lopokova, Ninette de Valois, Marie -Rambert, Constant Lambert, and Arnold L. Haskell had formed the Camargo -Society for Sunday night ballet performances, which organization gave -birth to Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club and the Vic Wells Ballet. In 1933, -the glories of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet were hardly dreams, not yet a -glimmer in Ninette de Valois’ eye. - -In Europe there remained only the Diaghileff remains and a vacant -Diaghileff contract at Monte Carlo. This latter deserves a word of -explanation. Diaghileff had acquired the name--the Ballets Russes de -Monte Carlo--thanks to the Prince of Monaco, himself a ballet lover, who -had offered Diaghileff and his company a home and a place to work. - -René Blum, an intellectual French gentleman of deep culture and fine -taste, took over the unexpired Diaghileff Monte Carlo contract. Blum was -at hand for, at the time of Diaghileff’s death, he was at the head of -the dramatic theatre at Monte Carlo. In fulfilment of the Diaghileff -contract, for a time Blum booked such itinerant ballet groups as he -could. Then, in 1931, he organized his own Ballets Russes de Monte -Carlo. George Balanchine, who had staged some of the last of the -Diaghileff works, became the first choreographer for the new company. -For the Monte Carlo repertoire, he created three works. To it, from -Paris, he brought two of the soon-to-become-famous “baby ballerinas,” -Irina Baronova and Tamara Toumanova, both from the classroom of Olga -Preobrajenska. - -Early in 1932, René Blum joined forces with one of the most curious -personalities that modern ballet has turned up, in the person of a -gentleman who wished to be known as Col. W. de Basil. - -De Basil had had a ballet company of sorts for some time. I first ran -into him in Paris, shortly after Diaghileff’s death, where he had allied -himself with Prince Zeretelli’s Russian Opera Company; and again in -London, where the Lionel Powell management, in association with the -Imperial League of Opera, had given them a season of combined opera and -ballet at the old Lyceum Theatre. With ballets by Boris Romanoff and -Bronislava Nijinska, de Basil had toured his little troupe around Europe -in buses, living from hand to mouth; had turned up for a season at Monte -Carlo, at René Blum’s invitation. That did it. De Basil worked out a -deal with Blum, whereby de Basil became a joint managing director of the -combined companies, now under the title of Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. -A season was given in the summer of 1932, in Paris, at the _Théâtre des -Champs Elysées_. - -It was there I first saw the new company. It was then I took the plunge. -I negotiated. I signed them for a visit to the American continent. A -book could be devoted to these negotiations alone. It would not be -believable; it would fail to pass every test of credibility ever -devised. - -I feel that this is the point at which to digress for a moment, in order -to sketch in a line drawing of de Basil, with some of the shadows and -some of the substance. Unless I do, no reader will be able to understand -why I once contemplated a book to be called _To Hell With Ballet_! - -To begin with, de Basil was a Cossack and a Caucasian. Neither term -carries with it any connotation of gentleness or sensitivity. De Basil -was one of the last persons in the world you would expect to find at the -head of an organization devoted to the development of the gentle, lyric -art of the ballet. Two more dissimilar partners in an artistic venture -than de Basil and Blum could not be found. - -René Blum, the gentle, cultured intellectual, was a genuine artist: -amiable, courteous, and fully deserving of the often misused phrase--a -man of the world. His alliance with de Basil was foredoomed to failure; -for one of René Blum’s outstanding characteristics was a passion to -avoid arguments, discussions, scandals, troubles of any sort. Blum -commanded the highest respect from his artists and associates; but they -never feared him. To them he was the kind, understanding friend to whom -they might run with their troubles and problems. Blum’s sensitivity was -such that he would run from de Basil as one would try to escape a -plague. René Blum, you would say, was, perhaps, the ivory-tower -dilettante. You would be wrong. René Blum gave the lie to this during -the war by revealing himself a man of heroic stature. On the occupation -of France, he was in grave danger, since he was a Jew, and the brother -of Léon Blum, the Socialist leader, great French patriot and one-time -Premier. René, however, was safely and securely out of the country. But -he, too, was a passionate lover of France. France, he felt, needed him. -Tossing aside his own safety, he returned to his beloved country, to -share its fate. His son, who was the apple of his father’s eye, joined -the Maquis; was killed fighting the Nazis. René Blum was the victim of -Nazi persecution. - -Let us look for a moment at the background of Blum’s ballet -collaborator. The “Colonel” was born Vassily Grigorievitch Voskresensky. -In his native _milieu_ he had some sort of police-military career. -Although he insisted on the title “Colonel,” he certainly never attained -that rank in the Tsar’s army. He was a lieutenant in the _Gendarmes_. -After the revolution, in 1918, he turned up as a captain with -Bicherakoff’s Cossacks. Later on he turned naval and operated in the -Black Sea. - -There is an interval in de Basil’s life that has never been entirely -filled in with complete accuracy: the period immediately following his -flight and escape from Russia. The most credible of the legends -surrounding this period is that he sold motor-cars in Italy. Eventually, -he turned up in Paris, where my trail picked him up at a concert agency -called _Zerbaseff_, which concerned itself with finding jobs for refugee -artists. It was then he called himself de Basil. - -At the time I met him, he had a Caucasian partner, the Prince Zeretelli -whom I have mentioned, and who was a one-time manager of the People’s -Theatre, in St. Petersburg. It was this partnership that brought forth -the _Ballet and Opéra Russe de Paris_, which gave seasons at the -_Théâtre des Champs Elysées_, in Paris, and, as I have mentioned, at the -Lyceum Theatre, in London. - -Let me first set down the man’s virtues. De Basil had great charm. By -that I do not necessarily mean he was charming. His charm was something -he could turn on at will, like a tap, usually when he was in a tight -spot. More than once it helped him out of deep holes, and sticky ones. -He had an inexhaustible fount of energy, could drive himself and others; -never seemed to need sleep; and, aiming at a highly desired personal -goal, had unending patience. With true oriental passivity, he could -wait. He had undaunted courage; needless, reckless courage, in my -opinion; a stupid courage compounded often out of equal parts of -stubbornness and sheer bravado. He was a born organizer. He intuitively -possessed a flair for the theatre: a flair without knowledge. He could -be an excellent host; he was a _cordon bleu_ cook. He was generous, he -was simple in his tastes. - -Yet, with all these virtues, de Basil was, at the same time, one of the -most difficult human beings I have ever encountered in a lifetime of -management. This tall, gaunt, cadaver of a man had a powerful physique, -a dead-pan face, and a pair of cold, astigmatic eyes, before which -rested thick-lensed spectacles. He had all the makings of a dictator. -Like his countryman, Joseph Stalin, he was completely impossible as a -collaborator. He was a born intriguer, and delighted in surrounding -himself with scheming characters. During my career I have met scheming -characters who, nevertheless, have had certain positive virtues: they -succeeded in getting things done. De Basil’s scheming characters -consisted of lawyers, hacks, amateur managers, brokers, without -exception third-rate people who damaged and destroyed. - -It would be an act of great injustice to call de Basil stupid. He was as -shrewd an article as one could expect to meet amongst all the lads who -have tried to sell the unwary stranger the Brooklyn Bridge, the Capitol -at Washington, or the Houses of Parliament. - -De Basil deliberately engaged this motley crew of hangers-on, since his -Caucasian Machiavellism was such that he loved to pit them one against -the other, to use them to build up an operetta atmosphere of cheap -intrigue that I felt sure had not hitherto existed save in the Graustark -type of fiction. De Basil used them to irritate and annoy. He would -dispatch them abroad in his company simply to stir up trouble, to form -cliques: for purposes of _chantage_; he would order them into whispered -colloquies in corners, alternately wearing knowing looks and glum -visages. De Basil and his entire entourage lived in a world of intrigue -of their own deliberate making. His fussy, busy little cohorts cost him -money he did not have, and raised such continuous hell that the wonder -is the company held together as long as it did. - -De Basil’s unholy joy would come from creating, through these henchmen, -a nasty situation and then stepping in to pull a string here, jerk a -cord there, he would save the situation, thus becoming the hero of the -moment. - -I shall have more to say on the subject of the “Colonel” before this -tale is told. - -Now, with the contracts signed for the first American visit, we were on -our honeymoon. Meanwhile, however, the picture of what I had agreed to -bring was changing. Leonide Massine, his stint at the Roxy Theatre in -New York completed, had met a former Broadway manager, E. Ray Goetz. -Together they had succeeded in raising some money and planned with it to -buy the entire Diaghileff properties. With this stock in hand, Massine -caught up with de Basil, who was barnstorming through the Low Countries -with his company in trucks and buses; and the two of them pooled -resources. Although Massine’s purchase plan did not go through entirely, -because much of the Diaghileff material had disappeared through lawsuits -and other claims, nevertheless Massine was able to deliver a sizable -portion of it. - -As the direct result of Massine’s appointment as artistic director, a -number of things happened. First of all, Balanchine quit, and formed a -short-lived company in France, _Les Ballets 1933_, the history of which -is not germane to this story. Before he left, however, Balanchine had -created three works for the de Basil-Blum Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo: -_La Concurrence_, _Le Cotillon_, and _Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme_. -Massine, as his first task, staged _Jeux d’Enfants_ and _Les Plages_; -restaged three of his earlier works, _The Three-Cornered Hat_, _Le Beau -Danube_ and _Scuola di Ballo_; and the first of his epoch-making -symphonic ballets, _Les Présages_, to Tchaikowsky’s Fifth Symphony. -These were combined with a number of older works from the Diaghileff -repertoire, including the three Fokine masterpieces: _Les Sylphides_, -_Prince Igor_, and _Petroushka_. - -Massine had strengthened the company. There were the former Diaghileff -_régisseur general_, Serge Grigorieff, of long memory, as stage -director; his wife, Lubov Tchernicheva, a leading Diaghileff figure, for -dramatic roles; the last Diaghileff _ballerina_, Alexandra Danilova, to -give stability to the three “baby ballerinas”: Baronova, Toumanova, and -Tatiana Riabouchinska, the last from Kchessinska’s private studio, by -way of Nikita Balieff’s _Chauve Souris_, where she had been dancing. -There was the intriguing Nina Verchinina, a “different” type of dancer. -There were talented lesser ladies: Eugenia Delarova, Lubov Rostova; a -group of English girls masquerading under Russian names. Among the men, -in addition to Massine, there were Leon Woizikovsky, David Lichine, -Roman Jasinsky, Paul Petroff, Yurek Shabalevsky, and André Eglevsky. - -A successful breaking-in season was given at the Alhambra Theatre, in -London’s Leicester Square. While this was in progress, we set about at -the most necessary and vastly important business of trying to build a -public for ballet in America, for this is a ballet impresario’s first -job. That original publicity campaign was, in its way, history-making. -It took a considerable bit of organizing. No field was overlooked. In -addition to spreading the gospel of ballet, there was a Sponsors’ -Committee, headed by the Grand Duchess Marie and Otto H. Kahn. Prince -Serge Obolensky was an ever-present source of help. - -It was a chilly and fairly raw December morning in 1933 when I clambered -aboard the cutter at the Battery, to go down the Bay to board the ship -at Quarantine. It is a morning I shall not soon forget. I was in ballet -up to my neck; and I loved it. There have been days and nights in the -succeeding two decades when I have seriously played with the notion of -what life might have been like if I had not gone aboard (and overboard) -that December morning. - -I took with me the traditional Russian welcome: a tray of bread, wrapped -in a white linen serviette, a little bowl of salt, which I offered to de -Basil. I was careful to see that the reporters and camera men were in -place when I did it. De Basil’s poker-face actually smiled as I handed -him the tray, uncovered the bread, poured the salt. But only for a -moment. A Russian word in greeting, and then there was an immediate -demand from him to see the theatre. We were on our way. Driving uptown -to the St. James Theatre, the arguments commenced. There was the matter -of the programme. There was the matter of the size of de Basil’s name; -the question of the relative size of the artists’ names; the type-face; -the order in which they should be listed; what was to become the -everlasting arguments over repertoire and casting. But I was in it, now. - -I believed in the “star” system--not because I believe the system to be -a perfect one, by any means, but because the American public, which had -been without any major ballet company for eight years, and which had had -practically no ballet activity, had to be attracted and arrested by -something more than an unknown and heretofore unheard-of company and the -photograph of a not particularly photogenic ex-Cossack. - -The pre-Christmas _première_ at the St. James Theatre, on the night of -21st December, marked the beginning of a new epoch in ballet, and in my -career. It was going to be a long pull, an uphill struggle. I knew that. -The opening night audience was brilliant; the house was packed, -enthusiastic. But the advance sale at the box-office was anything but -encouraging. Diaghileff had failed in America. The losses of his two -seasons, paid for by Otto H. Kahn, ran close to a half-million dollars. -I was on my own. Since readers are as human as I am, perhaps they will -forgive my pardonable pride, the pride I felt sixteen years later, on -reading the historian George Amberg’s comment: “If it had not been for -Mr. Hurok’s resourceful management and promotion, de Basil would -certainly not have succeeded where Diaghileff failed.” - -But I am anticipating. The opening programme consisted of _La -Concurrence_, _Les Présages_, and _Le Beau Danube_. Toumanova in the -first; Baronova and Lichine in the second; Massine, Danilova, and -Riabouchinska in the third. It was a night. The next day’s press was -excellent. It was John Martin, with what I felt was an anti-Diaghileff -bias, who offered some reservations. - -Following the opening performance, I gave the first of my many ballet -suppers, this one at the Savoy-Plaza. It was very gala. The Sponsors’ -Committee turned up _en masse_. White-gloved waiters served, among other -things, super hot dogs, as a native gesture to the visitors from -overseas. The “baby ballerinas” looked as if they should have been in -bed. That is, two of them did. One of them was missing, and there was -some concern as to what could have happened to Tamara Toumanova. -However, there was no necessity for concern for Tamara, since she, with -her sense of the theatre, the theatrical, and the main chance, made a -late and quite theatrical entry, with Paul D. Cravath on one arm and -Otto H. Kahn on the other. The new era in ballet was inaugurated by -these two distinguished gentlemen and patrons of the arts sipping -champagne from a ballet slipper especially made for the occasion by a -leading Fifth Avenue bootmaker. - -The opening a matter of history, the publicity department went into -action at double the record-breaking pace at which they had been -functioning for weeks. The resulting press coverage was overwhelming and -national. - -But, however gratifying all this may have been, I had my troubles, and -they increased daily. The publicity simply could not please all the -people all the time. I mean the ballet people, of course. There was -always the eternally dissatisfied de Basil. In addition, there were -three fathers, nineteen mothers, and one sister-in-law to be satisfied. -Then there were daily casting problems. The publicity department was -giving the press what it wanted: feature stories on ballet, on artists, -on the daily life of the dancer. It was then de Basil determined that -all publicity must be centered on his own august person. He had a point -of view, I must admit. Dancers were here today, gone tomorrow. De Basil -and his ballet remained. But no newspaper is interested in running -repeated photographs of a dour, bespectacled male. They wanted “leg -art.” When de Basil insisted that he be photographed, the camera men -would “shoot” him with a filmless or plateless camera. - -In addition to having to contend with what threatened to become a -chronic and incurable case of Basildiaghileffitis, I was losing a potful -of money. The St. James Theatre is no better than any other Broadway -house as a home for ballet. The stage is far too small either to display -the décor or to permit dancers to move freely. The auditorium, even if -filled to capacity, cannot meet ballet expenses. We were not playing to -anything like capacity. There was a tour booked; but, thanks to a “stop -clause” in the theatre contract--a figure above which the attraction -must continue at the theatre--we could not leave. We had made the “stop -clause” too low. There was only one thing to do in order to protect the -tour. I decided to divide the company into two companies. - -Forced to fulfil two sets of obligations at the end of the first month -at the St. James Theatre, I opened a tour in Reading, Pennsylvania, with -Massine, Danilova, Toumanova, the larger part of the _corps de ballet_, -Efrem Kurtz conducting the orchestra, and all of the ballets in the -repertoire except three. - -The company remaining at the St. James had Baronova, Riabouchinska, -Lichine, and Woizikovsky, with the corps augmented by New York dancers, -and Antal Dorati as conductor. This company gave eight performances -weekly of the Fokine masterpieces, _Les Sylphides_, _Petroushka_, and -_Prince Igor_. The steadily increasing public did not seem to mind. - -The response on the road and in New York was surprisingly good. When we -finally left New York, the two groups merged, and we played a second -Chicago engagement, at the marvellous old Auditorium Theatre. All were -there, save for Grigorieff, Alexandra Danilova, and Dorati, who returned -to Monte Carlo to fulfil de Basil’s contract with Blum for a spring -season in Monaco. - -There was a brief spring season in New York, preceded by a week at the -Forrest Theatre in Philadelphia, where Massine’s first “American” ballet -had its dress rehearsals and first performances. This was _Union -Pacific_, a four-scened work in which Massine had the collaboration of -the distinguished American poet, Archibald MacLeish, on the story; -Albert Johnson, on the settings; Irene Sharaff, with costumes; and a -score, based on American folk-tunes, by Nicholas Nabokoff. It was the -first Russian ballet attempt to deal with the native American scene and -material, treating the theme of the building of the first -transcontinental railway. - -We gave its first performance on the night of April 6, 1934, and the -cast included Massine himself, his wife Eugenia Delarova, Irina -Baronova, Sono Osato, David Lichine, and André Eglevsky, in the central -roles. - -It was Massine’s prodigious Barman’s dance that proved to be the -highlight of the work. - -The balance of the company eventually returned to Europe for their -summer seasons in London and Paris, and to stage new productions. Back -they came in the autumn for another tour. The problem of a proper -theatre for ballet in New York had not been solved; so I took the -company from Europe to Mexico City for an engagement at the newly -remodeled Palacio des Bellas Artes. There were problems galore. Once -again I fell back on my right-hand-bower, Mae Frohman, rushed her to -Mexico to clear them. Back from Mexico by boat to New York, with a -hurried transfer for trains to Toronto, and a long coast-to-coast tour. -The New York engagement that season was brief: five performances only. -The only theatre available was the Majestic, whose stage is no less -cramped, and whose auditorium provides no illusion. During this brief -season a new work by Massine was presented: _Jardin Public_ (_Public -Garden_). It was based on a fragment from André Gide’s _The -Counterfeiters_, in a scenario by Massine and Vladimir Dukelsky (Vernon -Duke) who supplied the music. It was not one of Massine’s most -successful works by any means. But the _première_ did provide an amusing -incident. Danilova was cast as a wealthy woman; Massine and Toumanova as -The Poor Couple. On the opening night, Danilova, who showed her wealthy -status by dancing a particularly lively rhumba, lost her underpants -while dancing in the center of the stage. The contretemps she carried -off with great aplomb. But, on her exit, she did not carry off the -underwear, which remained in the center of the stage as a large colored -blob. Danilova’s exit was followed by the entrance of Toumanova and -Massine, clad in rags as befitted The Poor Couple. Toumanova, fixing her -eyes on the offending lingerie, picked it up, examined it critically, -and then, as if it were something from the nether world and quite -unspeakable, dramatically hurled it off-stage in an attitude of utter -disgust, as if it were a symbol of the thing she most detested: wealth. - -Although the five performances were sold out, we could not cover our -expenses. In the autumn of 1935, when the company returned for its third -season, we were able to bring Ballet to the Metropolitan Opera House -and, for the first time since its rebirth in America, the public really -saw it at its best. - -During this time we had made substantial additions to the repertoire: -Massine’s second and third symphonic ballets, the Brahms _Choreartium_, -and the Berlioz _Symphonie Fantastique_; Nijinska’s _The Hundred -Kisses_. In addition to Fokine’s new non-operatic version of _Le Coq -d’Or_, which I have mentioned, there were added Fokine’s _Schéhérazade_, -_The Afternoon of a Faun_, and Nijinsky’s _Le Spectre de la Rose_. - -The gross takings of the fourth American season of the de Basil company -reached round a million dollars. - -By this time matters were coming to a head. All was not, by any means, -well in ballet. Massine, by this time, was at swords’ points with de -Basil. I was irritated, bored, fatigued, worn out with him and his -entourage. Since de Basil had lost his Monte Carlo connection, he had -also lost touch with the artistic thought that had served as a stimulus -to creation. - -It is necessary for me to make another digression at this point. The -opening chapter of the New Testament is, as the reader will remember, a -geneological one, with a formidable list of “begats.” It seems to me the -course of wisdom to try to clear up, if I can, the “begats” of Russian -Ballet since the day on which I first allied myself with it. I shall try -to disentangle them for the sake of the reader’s better understanding. -There were so many similar names, artists moving from one company to -another, ballets appearing in the repertoires of more than one -organization. - -In this saga, I have called this chapter “W. de Basil and his Ballets -Russes de Monte Carlo.” It is a convenient handle. The confusion that -was so characteristic of the man de Basil, was intensified by the fact -that the “Colonel” changed the name of the company at least a half-dozen -times during our association. To attempt to go into all the involved -reasons for these chameleon-like changes would simply add to the -confusion, and would, I feel, be boring. Let me, for the sake of -conciseness and, I hope, the reader’s illumination, list the six -changes: - -In 1932, it was _Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo_. - -From 1933 to 1936, it was _Monte Carlo Ballet Russe_. - -In 1937, it was _Colonel W. de Basil’s Ballet Russe_. - -In 1938, it was _Covent Garden Ballet Russe_. - -In 1939, it was _Educational Ballets_, Ltd. - -From 1940 until its demise, it was _Original Ballet Russe_. - -I have said earlier that the alliance between René Blum and de Basil was -foredoomed to failure. The split between them came in 1936, both as a -result of incompatibility and of de Basil’s preoccupation with the -United States to the exclusion of any Monte Carlo interest. Blum had a -greater interest in Monte Carlo, with which, to be sure, he had a -contract. So it was not surprising that René Blum organized a new Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo, with Michel Fokine as choreographer. - -De Basil and his methods became increasingly aggravating. His chicanery, -his eternal battling, above all, his overweening obsession about the -size of his name in the display advertising, were sometimes almost -unbearable. He carried a pocket-rule with him and would go about cities -measuring the words “Col. W. de Basil.” Now electric light letters vary -in size in the various cities, and there is no way of changing them -without having new letters made or purchased at considerable expense and -trouble. I remember a scene in Detroit, where de Basil became so -obnoxious that the company manager and I climbed to the roof of the -theatre and took down the sign with our own hands, in order to save us -from further annoyance that day. - -All of this accumulated irritation added up to an increasing conviction -that life was too short to continue this sort of thing indefinitely, -despite my love for and my interest and faith in ballet both as an art -and as a popular form of entertainment. - -As I have said, Leonide Massine’s difficulties and relations with de -Basil were becoming so strained that each performance became an ordeal. -I never knew when an explosion might occur. There were many points of -difference between Massine and de Basil. The chief bone of contention -was the matter of artistic direction. Massine’s contract with de Basil -was approaching its expiration date. De Basil was badgering him to sign -a new one. Massine steadfastly refused to negotiate unless de Basil -would assure him, in the contract, the title and powers of Artistic -Director. De Basil as steadfastly refused, and insisted on retaining the -powers of artistic direction for himself. - -There was, as is always the case in Russian Ballet, a good deal of -side-taking. Granted that, for his purposes, de Basil’s insistence on -keeping all controls over his company in his own hands, had a point. But -let us also regard the issue from the point of view of ability and -knowledge, the prime qualifications for the post. From the portrait I -have given, the reader will gather the extent of the “Colonel’s” -qualifications. This would seem to be the time and place for a sketch of -Leonide Massine, as I know him. - - * * * * * - -One day there must be a book written about Massine. Not that there is -not already a considerable literature dealing with him; but there is yet -to appear a work that has done him anything like justice. For me to -attempt more than a line drawing would be presumptuous and manifestly -unjust; but a sketch is demanded. - -Leonide Massine was born in Moscow in 1894. He graduated from the Moscow -Imperial School in 1912. It was a year later that Diaghileff, visiting -Moscow, was taken by Poliakov, the famous Moscow dramatic critic, to see -a play at the Ostrovsky Theatre. It happened that Massine was appearing -in the play in the role of a servant. There is no record as to what -Diaghileff thought of the play or the performance. The one fact that -emerges from this chance evening Diaghileff spent at a theatre is that -he was impressed by the manner in which the unknown boy, Massine, -carried a tray. Diaghileff asked Poliakov to take him back-stage and -introduce him to the talented young mime. - -Artistically, Diaghileff was in the process of moving onward from the -exclusively Russian tradition that was represented by Benois, Bakst, -Stravinsky, and Fokine. He was moving towards a greater -internationalism, a broader cosmopolitanism. He was in need of a -creative personality who would carry forward this wider concept. -Diaghileff’s intuition told him this seventeen-year-old boy with the -enormous brown eyes was the person. Diaghileff took Massine from Moscow -into his company and fashioned him into a present-day Pygmalion. -Diaghileff took over the boy’s artistic education. As part of a -deliberate plan, Diaghileff pushed a willing pupil into close contact -with the world of modern painting and music, with the finest minds of -the period. Picasso, Larionov, Stravinsky, and de Falla became his -mentors; libraries, museums, concert halls, his classrooms. The result -was a great cosmopolitan choreographer, perhaps the greatest living -today. - -An American citizen, he will always have strong Russian roots. Some of -his best works are Russian ballets; but he is no slavish nationalist. He -is as much at home in the cultures of Italy, Scotland, or Spain. His was -a precocious genius, discovered by Diaghileff’s intuition. Massine began -at the top, and has remained there. - -Massine is difficult to know, for he is shy, and he has a great wall of -natural reserve that takes a long time to penetrate. Once penetrated, it -is possible to experience one of life’s greater satisfactions in the -conversation, the intelligence, the knowledge of the mature Massine. -Massine’s poise and sense of order never leave him. There is a -meticulousness about him and a neatness that indicate the possession of -an orderly mind. Everything he reads which he feels may be of even the -slightest value to him at some future time, he preserves in large -clipping-books. About him is a calm that is exceptional in a Russian--a -calm that is exceptional in any one associated with the dance, where the -habit is to shout as loudly as possible at the slightest provocation, or -no provocation at all, and to become violently excited and agitated over -the most unimportant things. There is about him none of the superficial -“temperament” too often assumed to be the prerogative of artists. He has -a sharp sense of humor; but it is a sense of humor that is keen and dry. -His wit can be sharp and extremely cutting. He has not always been -loved by his associates; but very few of them have ever really known -him. - -Filled with fire, energy, enthusiasm, his constant desire is to build -something better. - -As a dancer, he still dances, as no one else, the Miller in _The -Three-Cornered Hat_ and the Can Can Dancer in _La Boutique Fantasque_. -Personally, I prefer only Massine in the roles he has created for -himself. No other dancer can approach him in these. - -I have mentioned his long sojourn at the Roxy Theatre, in New York. -Under the conditions imposed--a new work to be staged weekly, to dance -four times a day--masterpieces were obviously impossible; but the work -he did was of vast importance in building a dance public in New York. - -There are those today who chide Massine for his all too frequent -re-creations of his old pieces, and lay it to Massine’s obsession with -money. It is true, Massine does have a concern for money. But, after -all, he has a wife, two growing children, and other responsibilities. -However, I do not believe finance is the sole reason, and I, for one, -wish he would not be eternally reproducing his old works. _Le Beau -Danube_ will live forever as one of the finest _genre_ works of all -time. But it must be properly done. I remember, to my sorrow, seeing a -recent production of the _Danube_ Massine staged in Paris, with Roland -Petit--with a company of only fourteen dancers. Further comment is not -required. - -I have a deep and abiding affection for Leonide Massine as a person--an -affection that is very deep and real. As an artist, I believe he is -still the greatest individual personality in ballet today--a -choreographer of deep knowledge, imagination, and ability. - -The composer of some sixty-odd ballets, it is the most imposing record -in modern ballet’s history, perfectly amazing productivity. No one but -himself is capable of restoring them. When produced or restaged without -his fine hand, they are a shambles. - -I should like to offer my friend, Leonide Massine, a hope that springs -from my heart. I can only urge him, for his own good and for the good of -ballet which needs him, to rest for a time on his beautiful island in -the Mediterranean and to spend the time there in study and reflection, -crystallizing his ideas. Then he will bring to us new and striking -creations that will come like a refreshing breeze clearing the murky -atmosphere of much of our contemporary ballet scene. If Massine would -only relax his constant drive and follow my suggestion, the real Massine -would emerge. - -After a summer on his island, he gave us one of his most recent -creations (1952), an Umbrian Passion Play, _Laudes Evangelli_, to -religious music of the Middle Ages. An interesting side-light on it is -that the very first ballet he had in mind at the beginning of the -Diaghileff association was based on the same idea. - -At the height of his maturity, there is no indication of age in Massine. -Age, after all, is merely a question of how old one feels. I remember, -in the later days of his ballet, shortly before his death, Diaghileff -was planning a special gala performance. At a conference of his staff, -he suggested inviting Pavlova to appear. Some of his advisers countered -the proposal with the suggestion that Pavlova was too old. My reply was -brief and to the point. - -“Pavlova will never age,” I said. “Some people are old at twenty. But -Pavlova, never; for genius never looks at the calendar.” - -What was true of Pavlova, is equally true of Leonide Massine. - - * * * * * - -The growth, the development, and the appreciation of ballet in America -are the result of a number of things, both individually and in -combination. There may exist a variety of opinions on the subject, but -one thing, I know, is certain: the present state of ballet in America is -not the result of chance. In 1933 I had signed a contract with de Basil -to bring ballet to America; yet there was an element of chance involved -in that my publicity director, vacationing in Europe, saw a performance -of the de Basil company, and spontaneously cabled me an expression of -his enthusiasm. Since this employee was not a balletomane in any sense -of the word, his message served to intensify my conviction that then was -the time to go forward with my determination to follow my intuition. -Here ends any element of chance. - -The basic repertoire of the first years was an extension of the -Diaghileff artistic policies. The repertoire included not only revivals -from the Diaghileff repertoire, but also new, forward-looking creations. -I was certain that a sound and orthodox repertoire was an essential for -establishing a genuine ballet audience in this country. - -In 1933, there was no ballet audience. It was something that had to be -created and developed through every medium possible. I had a two-fold -responsibility--because I loved ballet with a love that amounted to a -passion, and because I had a tremendous financial burden which I carried -single-handed, without the aid of any Maecenas; I had to make ballet -successful; in doing so, willy-nilly I had the responsibility of forming -a taste where no aesthetic existed. - -For two decades I have had criticism levelled at me from certain places, -criticism directed chiefly at my policies in ballet; I have been -criticized for my insistence on certain types of ballets in the -repertoires of the companies I have managed, and for my belief in -adaptations and varying applications of what is known as the “star” -system. The only possible answer is that I have been proven right. No -other system has succeeded in bringing people to ballet or in bringing -ballet to the people. - -It will not be out of place at this time to note the repertoire of the -de Basil company at the time of the breakdown of the relations between -Massine and de Basil, which may be said to be the period of the Massine -artistic direction and influence on the de Basil companies, from 1933 to -1937. - -There were, if my computation is correct, and I have checked the matter -with some care, a total of forty works, with thirty-four of them -actively in the repertoire. Of these, there were two sound classics -stemming from the Imperial Russian Ballet, creations by Marius Petipa -and Lev Ivanoff: _Swan Lake_, in the one-act abbreviation; and _Aurora’s -Wedding_, the last _divertissement_ act of _The Sleeping Beauty_ or _The -Sleeping Princess_, both, of course, to the music of Tchaikowsky. There -were three Russian works, i.e., ballets on Russian subjects: -Stravinsky’s _Petroushka_; the _Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor_; and -_Le Coq d’Or_, a purely balletic and entertaining spectacle, with the -Rimsky-Korsakoff music rearranged for ballet by Tcherepnine. All of the -foregoing were by Michel Fokine. Eight other Fokine works were included, -all originally produced by him for Diaghileff: three, which might be -called exotic works--_Cléopâtre_, to the music of Arensky and others; -_Thamar_, to the music of Balakireff; and _Schéhérazade_, to the -Rimsky-Korsakoff tone-poem. Five ballets typifying the Romantic -Revolution: Stravinsky’s _Firebird_; _Carnaval_ and _Papillons_, both by -Robert Schumann; _Le Spectre de la Rose_, to the familiar Weber score; -that greatest of all romantic works, _Les Sylphides_, the Chopin -“romantic reverie.” - -There were two works by George Balanchine: _Le Cotillon_ and _La -Concurrence_, the former to music by Chabrier, the latter to music by -Auric. A third Balanchine work, _Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme_, was -necessarily dropped from the repertoire because the costumes were -destroyed by fire. - -The largest contributor by far to the de Basil repertoire was Massine -himself. No less than seventeen of the thirty-four works regularly -presented, that is, fifty per-cent, were by this prodigious creator. -Eight of these were originally staged by Massine for Diaghileff; two -were revivals of works he produced for Count Etienne de Beaumont, in -Paris, in 1932. Seven were original creations for the de Basil company. -The Diaghileff creations, in revival--in the order of their first -making--were: _The Midnight Sun_, to music from Rimsky-Korsakoff’s _The -Snow Maiden_; _Russian Folk Tales_, music by Liadov; The _Good-Humored -Ladies_, to the Scarlatti-Tommasini score; Manuel de Falla’s _The -Three-Cornered Hat_; _The Fantastic Toyshop_, to Rossini melodies; -George Auric’s _Les Matelots: Cimarosiana_; Vittorio Rieti’s _The Ball_. - -The two Beaumont works: _Le Beau Danube_, and the Boccherini _Scuola di -Ballo_. - -The creations for the de Basil company: the three symphonic -ballets--_Les Présages_, (Tchaikowsky’s Fifth); _Choreartium_, (Brahms’s -Fourth); _La Symphonie Fantastique_, (Berlioz). Also _Children’s Games_ -(Bizet); _Beach_ (Jean Francaix); _Union Pacific_ (Nicholas Nabokoff); -and _Jardin Public_ (Dukelsky). - -Two other choreographers round out the list. The young David Lichine -contributed four; Bronislava Nijinska, two. The Lichine works: -Tchaikowsky’s _Francesca da Rimini_ and _La Pavillon_, to Borodin’s -music for strings, arranged by Antal Dorati. The others, produced in -Europe, were so unsuccessful I could not bring them to America: -_Nocturne_, a slight work utilising some of Mendelssohn’s _Midsummer -Night’s Dream_ music, and _Les Imaginaires_, to a score by George Auric. - -The Nijinska works: _The Hundred Kisses_, to a commissioned score by -Baron Frederic d’Erlanger; the _Danses Slaves et Tsiganes_, from the -Dargomijhky opera _Roussalka_; and a revival of that great -Stravinsky-Nijinska work, _Les Noces_, which, for practical reasons, I -was able to give only at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York. - -The following painters and designers collaborated on the scenery and -costumes: Oliver Messel, Cecil Beaton, Etienne de Beaumont, Nathalie -Gontcharova, Korovin, Pierre Hugo, Jean Lurçat, Albert Johnson, Irene -Sharaff, Eugene Lourie, Raoul Dufy, André Masson, Joan Miro, Polunin, -Chirico, José Maria Sert, Pruna, André Derain, Picasso, Bakst, -Larionoff, Alexandre Benois, Nicholas Roerich, Mstislav Doboujinsky. - -For the sake of the record, as the company recedes into the mists of -time, let me list its chief personnel during this period: Leonide -Massine, ballet-master and chief male dancer; Alexandra Danilova, Irina -Baronova, Tamara Toumanova, Tatiana Riabouchinska, _ballerinas_; Lubov -Tchernicheva, Olga Morosova, Nina Verchinina, Lubov Rostova, Tamara -Grigorieva, Eugenia Delarova, Vera Zorina, Sono Osato, Leon Woizikovsky, -David Lichine, Yurek Shabalevsky, Paul Petroff, André Eglevsky, and -Roman Jasinsky, soloists; Serge Grigorieff, _régisseur_. - -In our spreading of the gospel of ballet, emphasis was laid on the -following: Ballet, repertoire, personnel. Since there were no “stars” -whose names at the time carried any box-office weight or had any -recognizable association, the concentration was on the “baby -ballerinas,” Baronova, Toumanova, Riabouchinska, all of whom were young -dancers of fine training and exceptional talents. They grew as artists -before our eyes. They also grew up. They had an unparalleled success. -They also had their imperfections, but it was a satisfaction to watch -their progress. - -Ballet was by way of being established in America’s cultural and -entertainment life by the end of the fourth de Basil season. On the -financial side, that fourth season’s gross business passed the million -dollar mark; artistically, deterioration had set in. With the feud -between Massine and de Basil irreconcilable, there was no sound artistic -policy possible, no authoritative direction. The situation was as if two -rival directors would have stood on either side of the proscenium arch, -one countermanding every order given by the other. The personnel of the -company was lining up in support of one or the other; factionism was -rampant. Performances suffered. - -Massine, meanwhile realizing the hopelessness of the situation so far as -he was concerned, cast about for possible interested backers in a -balletic venture of his own, where he could exercise his own talents and -authority. He succeeded in interesting a number of highly solvent ballet -lovers, chief among whom was Julius Fleischmann, of Cincinnati. - -Just what Fleischmann’s interest in ballet may have been, or what -prompted it, I have not been able to determine. At any rate, it was a -fresh, new interest. A man of culture and sensitivity, he was something -of a dilettante and a cosmopolitan. When he was at home, it was on his -estate in Cincinnati. His business interests, i.e., the sources that -provided him with the means to pursue his artistic occupations, required -no attention on his part. - -Together with other persons of means and leisure, a corporation was -formed under the name Universal Art. The corporation turned over the -artistic direction, both in name and fact, to Massine, and he was on his -own to choose the policy, the repertoire, and the personnel for a new -company. - -Ballet in America was on the horns of a dilemma. And so was I. - - - - -8. Revolution and Counter-revolution: -Leonide Massine and the New -Ballet Russe De Monte Carlo - - -In order that the reader may have a sense of continuity, I feel he -should be supplied with a bit of the background and a brief fill-in on -what had been happening meanwhile at Monte Carlo. - -I have pointed out that de Basil’s preoccupation with London and America -had soon left his collaborator, René Blum, without a ballet company with -which to fulfil his contractual obligations to the Principality of -Monaco. The break between the two came in 1936, when Blum formed a new -company that he called simply Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. - -Blum had the great wisdom and fine taste to engage Michel Fokine as -choreographer. A company, substantial in size, had been engaged, the -leading personnel numbering among its principals some fine dancers known -to American audiences. Nana Gollner, the American _ballerina_, was one -of the leading figures. Others included Vera Nemtchinova, Natalie -Krassovska, Anatole Ouboukhoff, Anatole Vilzak, Jean Yasvinsky, André -Eglevsky, and Michel Panaieff. A repertoire, sparked by Fokine -creations, was in the making. - -Back in America, the prime mover in the financial organization of the -new Massine company was Sergei I. Denham. It is hardly necessary to add -that Denham and de Basil had little in common or that they were, in -fact, arch-enemies. - -Denham had no more previous knowledge of or association with ballet than -de Basil; actually much less. I have been unable to discover the real -source of Denham’s interest in ballet. Born Sergei Ivanovich -Dokouchaieff, in Russia, the son of a merchant, he had escaped the -Revolution by way of China. His career in the United States, before -ballet in the persons of Leonide Massine and Julius Fleischmann swam -into his ken, had been of a mercantile nature, in one business venture -or another, including a stint as an automobile salesman, and another as -a sort of bank manager, none of them connected with the arts, but all of -them bringing him into fringe relations with the substantially solvent. - -No sooner did he find himself in the atmosphere of ballet than he, too, -became infected with Diaghileffitis, a disease that, apparently, attacks -them all, sooner or later. - -It is one of the strange phenomena of ballet I have never been able to -understand. Why is it, I ask myself, that a former merchant, an -ex-policeman, or an heir to carpet factory fortunes, for some reason all -gravitate to ballet, to create and perpetuate “hobby” businesses? I have -not yet discovered the answer. As in the case of Denham, so with the -others. Lacking knowledge or trained taste, people like these no sooner -find themselves in ballet than down they come with the Diaghileffitis -attack. - -Russian intrigue quickened its tempo, increased its intensity. Denham, -with the smooth, soft suavity of a born organizer, drove about the -country in his battered little car, often accompanied by his niece, -Tatiana Orlova, who was later to become the fourth Mrs. Massine, -ostensibly to try to attract more backers, more money. More often than -not, he followed the exact itinerary of the de Basil tour. Then he would -insinuate himself back-stage, place a chair for himself in the wings -during the performances of the de Basil company, and there negotiate -with dancers in an effort to get them to leave de Basil and join the new -company. At the same time, he would exhibit what can only be described -as a deplorable rudeness to de Basil, whose company it was. - -On the other hand, de Basil increased and intensified his machinations -to try to induce me to again sign with him. Not only did he step up his -own personal barrage, but the intrigues of his associates were deepened. -These associates were now three in number. Russian intrigue was having -an extended field day. On the one hand, there was Denham intriguing for -all he was worth against de Basil. On the other, de Basil’s three -henchmen were intriguing against Denham, against me, against each other, -and, I suspect, against de Basil. It was a sorry spectacle. - -It was the sort of thing you come upon in tales of Balkan intrigue. The -cast of this one included a smooth and suave Russian ex-merchant, bland -and crafty, easy of smile, oozing “culture,” with an attractive -dancer-niece as part-time assistant, and a former Diaghileff _corps de -ballet_ dancer, a member of de Basil’s company, as his spy and -henchwoman-at-large. Arrayed against this trio was the de Basil quartet: -the “Colonel” himself, and his three henchmen. The first was Ignat Zon, -a slightly obese organizer and theatre promoter from Moscow and -Petrograd, who, after the Revolution, had turned up in Paris, where he -allied himself with Prince Zeretelli, de Basil’s former Caucasian -partner. Zon was not interested in ballet; he was a commission merchant, -nothing more. The other two were a comic conspiratorial pair. One was a -Bulgarian lawyer, who had lived for some time in Paris, Jacques Lidji, -by name. The other was an undersized, tubby little hanger-on, Alexander -Philipoff, a fantastic little man with no experience of theatre or -ballet, who neither spoke nor understood a word of anything save -Russian. Philipoff certainly was not more than five feet tall, chubby, -tubby, rotund, with a beaming face and an eternally suspicious eye. The -contrast between him and the tall, gaunt de Basil was ludicrous. -Privately they were invariably referred to as Mutt and Jeff. Philipoff -constantly sought for motives (bad) behind every word uttered, behind -every facial expression, every gesture. - -Both men were overbearing, and rather pathetic, at that. Neither of the -pair could be called theatre people by any stretch of the imagination. -Lidji, the lawyer, was quite as futile in his own way as Philipoff. As a -pair of characters they might have been mildly amusing in _The Spring -Maid_ type of operetta. As collaborators on behalf of ballet, they were -a trial and a bloody bore. Lidji, incidentally, was but one of de -Basil’s lawyers; others came and went in swift procession. But Lidji -lasted longer than some, and, for a time, acted as a sort of -under-director, as did Philipoff. Since Lidji was not, at the time, an -American citizen, he was unable to engage in the practice of law in the -States. When he was not otherwise engaged in exercises of intrigue, -Lidji would busy himself writing voluminous reports and setting down -mountains of notes. - -I am convinced that the reason de Basil had so many legal advisers was -that he never paid them. Soon one or another would quit, and yet another -would turn up. I have a theory that, no matter how poor one may be, one -should always pay one’s doctor and one’s lawyer; each can help one out -of trouble. - -My personal problem was relatively simple. With the Massine group -raiding de Basil’s company, which of the dancers would remain with the -“Colonel”? This was problem number one. The other was, with de Basil -dropping Massine, who was the creator and the creative force behind the -de Basil company and who would, moreover, be likely to take a number of -important artists from de Basil to his own company, what would de Basil -have in the way of playable repertoire, artists, new creations? - -To annoyance and aggravation, now were added perplexity, puzzlement. - -It was at about this time, on one of my European visits, I had had -extended discussions with René Blum regarding my bringing him and his -new company to America. I had seen numerous performances given by his -company during their London season, and I had been impressed by their -quality. - -During this period of puzzlement on my part, Sergei Denham came to me to -try to interest me in the new Fleischmann venture. Denham assured me he -had ample financial backing for the new company. My chief concern at -this time was the question of the artistic direction of the new -organization. I told Denham that if he would secure by contract the -services of Leonide Massine in that capacity, I would be interested in -taking over the management of the company, and signed a letter to that -effect. - -Subsequently, the late Halsey Malone, acting as counsel for Universal -Art, the corporate title of the Fleischmann group, secured Massine’s -signature and a detailed contract was drawn up. - -As matters stood, I had one more season to go with my contractual -arrangements with de Basil, and Massine had the better part of another -season with the former’s company. - -Massine’s contract with de Basil expired while the company was playing -in San Francisco, and the two parted company, with Massine, Danilova, -and others leaving for Monte Carlo. - -That repertoire consisted of five Fokine-Diaghileff revivals: -_Carnaval_, _Le Spectre de la Rose_, _Les Sylphides_, _Prince Igor_, and -_Schéhérazade_. - -[Illustration: _Valente_ - -Anton Dolin in _Fair at Sorotchinsk_] - -[Illustration: - - Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo: Alexandra Danilova as the Glove Seller - and Leonide Massine as the Peruvian in _Gaîté Parisienne_ - -_Valente_] - -[Illustration: - -_Maurice Seymour_ - -Tamara Toumanova] - -[Illustration: - - _Maurice Seymour_ - -Alicia Markova] - -[Illustration: - -_Valente_ - - Scene from Antony Tudor’s _Romeo and Juliet_: Hugh Laing, Antony - Tudor, Dmitri Romanoff, Lucia Chase, Alicia Markova -] - -[Illustration: - - Ballet Theatre: Jerome Robbins and Janet Reed in _Fancy Free_ - -_Valente_] - -[Illustration: - - _Gordon Anthony_ - -Ninette de Valois] - -[Illustration: _Angus McBean_ - -David Webster] - -[Illustration: Constant Lambert - -_Baron_] - -[Illustration: - - _Magnum_ - -S. Hurok, Margot Fonteyn, Robert Helpmann] - -[Illustration: Irina Baronova and Children - - _Star Photo_ -] - -[Illustration: _Felix Fonteyn_ - - Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Following the premiere of - _Sylvia_--Frederick Ashton, Margot Fonteyn, S. Hurok -] - -[Illustration: S. Hurok and Margot Fonteyn - -_Felix Fonteyn_] - -There was a production of Delibes’s _Coppélia_, staged by Nicholas -Zvereff; the _Swan Lake_ second act; a version of _The Nutcracker_, by -Boris Romanoff; and _Aubade_, to the music of Francis Poulenc, staged by -George Balanchine. - -Importantly, there were several new Fokine creations: _L’Epreuve -d’Amour_, a charming “_chinoiserie_,” to the music of Mozart; _Don -Juan_, a balletic retelling of the romantic tale to a discovered score -by Gluck; _Les Eléments_, to the music of Bach; _Jota Argonesa_, a work -first done by Fokine in Petrograd, in 1916; _Igroushki_, originally -staged by Fokine for the Ziegfeld Roof in New York, in 1921; _Les -Elfes_, the Mendelssohn work originally done in New York, in 1924. The -two other Fokine works were yet another version of _The Nutcracker_, and -de Falla’s _Love, the Sorcerer_, both of which were later re-done by -Boris Romanoff. - -Painters and designers included André Derain, Mariano Andreu, Nathalie -Gontcharova, Dmitri Bouchene, Mstislav Doboujinsky, and Cassandre. - -Massine’s preparations went ahead apace. In Boston there were intensive -researches and concentrated work on the score for what was destined to -be one of the most popular works in modern ballet, _Gaîté Parisienne_. -In a large room in the Copley Plaza Hotel were assembled all the extant -scores of Offenbach operettas, procured from the Boston Public Library -and the Harvard Library. There were two pianists, Massine, Efrem Kurtz, -the conductor, copyists. The basic musical material for the ballet was -selected there, under Massine’s supervision. Later, in Paris, it was put -together and re-orchestrated by Manuel Rosenthal. - -The de Basil company finished its American season and sailed for Europe. -Meanwhile the deal was consummated between Fleischmann, Massine, Denham -and Blum, and Universal Art became the proprietor of the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo. Before the deal was finally settled, however, Fokine had -left Blum and had sold his services to de Basil, whose company was -playing a European tour. Massine was the new artistic director of the -new Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, while Fokine had switched to de Basil. - -Massine was now busily engaged in building up the dancing personnel of -his new organization. On the distaff side, he had Alexandra Danilova, -Eugenia Delarova, Tamara Toumanova, Lubov Rostova, from the de Basil -company. From the Blum company he took Natalie Krassovska, Jeanette -Lauret, Milada Mladova, Mia Slavenska, Michel Panieff, Roland Guerard, -Marc Platoff, Simon Semenoff, Jean Yasvinsky, George Zoritch, and Igor -Youskevitch, as principals. Of the group, it is of interest to note that -three--Mladova, Guerard, and Platoff--were American. In addition, -Massine engaged the English _ballerina_, Alicia Markova, then quite -unknown to American audiences, although a first lady of British Ballet; -Nini Theilade of plastic grace; and the English Frederick Franklin, yet -another Massine discovery. Serge Lifar, the last Diaghileff dancing -discovery and the leading dancer and spirit of the ballet at the Paris -Opera, was added. - -The new company was potentially a strong one. I was pleased. But I was -anything but pleased at the prospect of the two companies becoming -engaged in what must be the inevitable: a cut-throat competition between -them. The split, to be sure, had weakened the de Basil organization; the -new Monte Carlo company had an infinitely better balance in personnel. -In some respects, the Massine company was superior; but de Basil had a -repertoire that required only careful rehearsing, correcting, and some -refurbishing of settings and costumes. With Massine’s departure, David -Lichine had stepped into the first dancer roles. Irina Baronova had -elected to remain with de Basil, in direct competition with Toumanova; -others choosing to remain with the old company included Riabouchinska, -Grigorieva, Morosova, Verchinina, Tchernicheva, Osato, Shabalevsky, -Petroff, Lazovsky, and Jasinsky. - -I envisaged, for the good of ballet and its future, one big ballet -company, embracing the talents and the repertoires of both. I genuinely -feared the co-existence of the two companies, being certain that the -United States and Canada were not yet ready to support two companies -simultaneously. I pleaded with both to merge their interests, bury their -differences. I devoted all my time and energy in a concentrated effort -to bring about this desired end. The problems were complicated; but I -was certain that if there was a genuine desire on both sides, and good -will, a deal would be worked out. It blew hot. It blew cold. As time -went on, with no tangible results visible, my hopes diminished. It was -not only the financial arrangements between the two companies that -presented grave obstacles; there were formidable personality -differences. The negotiations continued and were long drawn-out. Then, -one day, the clouds suddenly thinned and, to my complete surprise, we -appeared to be making progress. Almost miraculously, so it seemed, the -attorneys for Universal Art and de Basil sat down to draw up the -preliminary papers for the agreement to agree to merge. Through all this -trying period there was helpful assistance from Prince Serge Obolensky -and Baron “Nikki” Guinsberg. - -At last the day arrived when the agreement was ready for joint approval, -clause by clause, by both parties to the merger, with myself holding a -watching brief as the prospective manager of the eagerly awaited Big -Ballet. This meeting went on for hours and hours. It opened in the -offices of Washburn, Malone and Perkins, the Universal Art attorneys, in -West Forty-fourth Street, early in the afternoon. By nine o’clock at -night endless haggling, ravelled tempers, recurring deadlocks had, I -thought reached their limit. - -Food saved that situation. Prince Obolensky and my attorney, Elias -Lieberman, fetched hamburgers. But, before they could be consumed, we -were evicted from the offices of the attorneys by the last departing -elevator man, who announced the building was being closed for the night, -and the conference, hamburgers and all, was transferred to the St. Regis -Hotel. At four o’clock the next morning, a verbal agreement was reached. -The deed was done. I felt sure that now we had, with this combination of -all the finest balletic forces extant in the Western World, the best as -well as the biggest. - -The “Colonel” departed for Berlin to join his company which was playing -an engagement there. He was to have signed the agreement before sailing, -but, procrastinator that he was, he slipped away without affixing his -signature. Nor had he authorized his attorney to sign for him, and it -took a flock of wireless messages and cables to extract from him the -authority the attorney required. At last it came. - -I had never been happier. Mrs. Hurok and I got ourselves aboard the -_Normandie_ for our annual summer solstice in Europe. On board we found -the Julius Fleischmanns. At dinner the first night out, our joint toast -was in thanks for the merger and to the Biggest and Best of all Ballets. - -Although Fleischmann showed me one mildly disturbing wireless message, I -had five days of peace. It was not destined to continue. When I stepped -down from the boat train at London’s Waterloo Station, I was greeted by -the news that the merger was off. - -The “Colonel” had changed his mind. Massine also had become resentful at -a division of authority. Confusion reigned. As an immediate result, -almost overnight de Basil lost control and the authoritative voice in -his own company. Altogether, it was a complicated business. - -A new holding company, calling itself Educational Ballets, Ltd., headed -by Baron “Freddy” d’Erlanger, banker and composer, whose bank had a -large interest in the de Basil company, had taken over the operation of -the company, and had placed a new pair of managing directors in charge: -Victor Dandré, Anna Pavlova’s husband and manager, jointly with “Gerry” -Sevastianov, the husband of Irina Baronova. The Royal Opera House, -Covent Garden, which was to have been the scene of the debut of the Big -Merged Company, had been taken for the original organization. - -It was all a bad dream, I felt. This impression was intensified a -hundred fold when I sat in the High Court in London’s Temple Bar, as -be-wigged counsel and robed judge performed an autopsy on my dream -ballet. Here, with all the trappings of legality, but no genuine -understanding, a little tragicomedy was being played out. Educational -Ballets, Ltd., announced the performance of all the Massine ballets in -the de Basil repertoire. This spurred Massine into immediate legal -action. - -Massine went into court, not for damages, not for money, but for a -declaratory judgment to determine, once for all, his own rights in his -own creations. The court’s decision, after days of forensic argument, -conducted with that understatement and soft but biting insult that is -the prerogative of British learned counsel, was a piece of legalistic -hair-splitting. Under British law, unlike the American, choreographic -rights are protected. Would that the choreographic artist had a like -protection under our system! By virtue of having presented the works in -public performance, the court decided that de Basil had the right to -continue such presentation: any works Massine had created as an employee -of de Basil, while receiving a salary from him, Massine could not -reproduce for a period of five years. Only the three works he had -originally created for Diaghileff: _The Three-Cornered Hat_, _The -Fantastic Toy-Shop_, and _Le Beau Danube_, could be reproduced by him -for himself or for any other company. - -The court action was a fortnight’s news-making wonder in London. Ballet -was not helped by it. Ballet belongs on the stage, not in the musty -atmosphere of the court room. De Basil and his lawyers, Massine and his -lawyers, Universal Art and their lawyers. It is a silly business. _X_ -brings an action against _Y_ over an alleged breach of a theatrical -employment contract. Let us assume that _X_ represents the employer, _Y_ -the artist-employee. Let us assume further that _X_ wins the action. _Y_ -must continue in the employment of _X_. What, I ask you, is less -satisfactory than an artist who is compelled by a court judgment to -fulfil a contract? In ballet, the only persons who benefit in ballet -lawsuits are the learned counsel. Differences of opinion, personality -clashes are not healed by legal action; they are accentuated. Legal -actions of this sort are instituted usually in anger and bitterness. -When the legal decision is made, the final settlement adjudicated, the -bitterness remains. - -The merger off, my contract with Universal Art came into force. I was -committed to the management of a London season. Since the traditional -home of ballet, the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, had been preempted -by the old company, I took Old Drury, the historic Drury Lane Theatre, -whose history is as long, whose beauty is equally famous, whose seating -capacity is enormous. - -The two houses are two short blocks apart. The seasons were -simultaneous. Both were remarkably successful; both companies played to -packed houses nightly. Nightly I had my usual table at the Savoy Grill, -that famed London rendezvous of theatrical, musical, balletic, and -literary life. Nightly my table was crowded with the ebb and flow of -departing and arriving guests. The London summer, despite my -forebodings, was halcyon. - -De Basil, at this period, was not a part of this cosmopolitanism and -gaiety. Having been forced out of the control of his own company, at -least for the moment, he became a recluse in a tiny house in Shepherd’s -Market, typically biding his time in his true-to-form Caucasian manner, -reflecting on his victory, although it had been more Pyrrhic than -triumphant. We met for dinner in his band-box house, most of which time -I devoted to a final effort to effect a merger of the two companies. It -was a case of love’s labour lost, for the opposing groups were poles -apart. - -The summer wore on into the late English midsummer heat, when all London -takes itself hence. The original company’s season at Covent Carden -slowed down, came to a stop; and a fortnight later, we rang down our -final curtain at Drury Lane. - -Before leaving for Paris, en route home to New York, there was a bit of -straightening out to be done in London. The merger having failed to -jell, a bit of additional adjustment was necessary. In other words, -because of the changed situation, my contract with Universal Art had to -be renegotiated. As in all matters balletic, it would seem, numerous -conferences were required; but the new contract was eventually -negotiated agreeably. - -Back in New York, the day of the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe opening -approached. There were the usual alarums and excursions, and others not -so usual. Markova, of course, was English. Moreover, she danced the -coveted role, the title part in _Giselle_. She had already made this -part quite personally something of her own. Her success in the role -during the Drury Lane season, where she had alternated the part with -Tamara Toumanova, had been conspicuous. Although the role was shared -between three _ballerinas_, Markova, Toumanova, and Slavenska, Massine -and I agreed that, since the opening performance in New York was so -important and because Markova was new to the country, it would provide -her with a magnificent opportunity for a debut; she should dance Giselle -that night. - -Factionism was rampant. Pressures of almost every sort were put upon -Massine to switch the opening night casting. - -A threat of possible violence caused me to take the precaution to have -detectives, disguised as stage-hands standing by; I eliminated the -trap-door and understage elevator used in this production as Giselle’s -grave, and gave instructions to have everything loose on the stage -fastened down. So literally were these orders carried out that even the -lilies Giselle has to pluck in the second act and toss to her Albrecht -while dancing as a ghost, were securely nailed to the stage floor. This -nearly caused a minor contretemps and what might have turned out to be a -ludicrous situation, when Markova had to rip them up by main force -before she could toss them to Serge Lifar, who was making his first New -York appearance with the company as Albrecht. - -Lifar’s brief association with the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe was not -a happy one for any of us, least of all for himself. He certainly did -not behave well. In my earlier book, _Impresario_, I dwelt quite fully -on certain aspects of his weird fantasies. There is no point in -repeating them. Always excitable, here in New York at that time Lifar -was unable to understand and realize he was not at the Paris Opera, -where his every word is law. - -Lifar’s fantastic behavior in New York before we shipped him back to -Paris was but an example of his lack of tact and his overwhelming -egoism. He proved to be a colossal headache; but I believe much of it -was due to a streak of self-dramatization in his nature, and a positive -delight he takes in being the central character, the focus of an -“incident.” - -Under the influence of a genuine creative urge, Massine’s directions of -the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe for two seasons richly fulfilled the -promise it held at the company’s inception. The public grew larger each -season. At the same time, slowly, but none the less surely, that public -became, I believe, more understanding. The ballet public of America was -cutting its eye-teeth. - -It was during the early seasons that Massine added three more symphonic -ballets to the repertoire, with Beethoven’s _Seventh Symphony_; _Rouge -et Noir_, to the brilliant First Symphony of Dmitri Shostakovich; and -_Labyrinth_, a surrealist treatment of the Seventh Symphony of Franz -Schubert. Christian Bérard provided scenery and costumes for the first -of them; Henri Matisse, for the second; Salvador Dali, for the last. The -Shostakovich work was the most successful of the three. Regrettably, all -these symphonic ballets are lost to present-day audiences. - -The outstanding comedy success was _Gaîté Parisienne_, the Offenbach -romp, originally started in Boston before the company as such existed. -The most sensational work was Massine’s first surrealist ballet, -_Bacchanale_, to the Venusberg music from Wagner’s _Tannhauser_. A quite -fantastic spectacle, from every point of view, it was a Massine-Dali -joke, one that was less successful when the same combination tried to -repeat it in _Labyrinth_. - -There were lesser Massine works, produced under frantic pressure; -examples: _Saratoga_, an unhappy attempt to capture the American spirit -of the up-state New York spa, to a commissioned score by Jaromir -Weinberger; _The New Yorker_, which was certainly no American _Gaîté -Parisienne_, being Massine’s attempt to try to bring to balletic life -the characters, the atmosphere, and the perky humors of the popular -weekly magazine, all to a pastiche of George Gershwin’s music. A third -work was one of his last Monte Carlo Ballet Russe creations, -_Vienna--1814_, an evocation of the spirit of the Congress of Vienna, to -music by Carl Maria von Weber, orchestrated by Robert Russell Bennett. - -_Bogatyri_, a colorful Russian spectacle, designed as a sort of -successor to Fokine’s _Le Coq d’Or_, had spectacular scenery and -costumes by Nathalie Gontcharova, and was a long and detailed work -utilising a movement of a Borodin string quartet and his Second -Symphony. In cooperation with Argentinita, Massine staged a quite -successful Spanish _divertissement_ to Rimsky-Korsakoff’s _Capriccio -Espagnol_, using for it the set and costumes Mariano Andreu had designed -for Fokine’s _Jota Argonesa_. - -In summing up Massine’s creations for the new company, I have left his -most important contribution until the last. It was _St. Francis_, -originally done in our first season at London’s Drury Lane, where it was -known as _Noblissima Visione_. A collaboration between the composer, -Paul Hindemith, and Massine, it may be called one of Massine’s greatest -triumphs and one of his very finest works. The ballet, unfortunately, -was not popular with mass audiences; but it was work of deep and moving -beauty, with a ravishing musical score, magnificent scenery and costumes -by Pavel Tchelitcheff, and two great performances by Massine himself in -the title role, and Nini Theilade, as Poverty, the bride of St. Francis. - -For the record, let me note the other works that made up the Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo repertoire under my management: Massine’s -productions of _The Three-Cornered Hat_, _The Fantastic Toy Shop_, and -_Le Beau Danube_. George Balanchine staged a revival of _Le Baiser de La -Fée_ (_The Fairy’s Kiss_) and _Jeu de Cartes_ (_Card Game_), both -Stravinsky works he had done before, and all borrowed from the American -Ballet. There was a new production of Delibes’s _Coppélia_, in a setting -by Pierre Roy; and the Fokine-Blum works I have mentioned before. - -I accepted as a new production a revival of Tchaikowsky’s _The -Nutcracker_, staged by Alexandra Fedorova, and a re-working of parts of -Tchaikowsky’s _Swan Lake_, also staged by Fedorova, under the title of -_The Magic Swan_. - -Three productions remain to be mentioned. One was _Icare_, staged only -at the Metropolitan Opera House in the first season, a graphic and -moving re-enactment of the Icarus legend, by Serge Lifar, to percussive -rhythms only. The second was Richard Rodgers’s first and only -exclusively ballet score, _Ghost Town_, a _genre_ work dealing with the -California Gold Rush. It was the first choreographic job of a talented -young American character dancer, Marc Platoff, born Marcel Le Plat, in -Seattle. Not a work out of the top drawer, it was nevertheless a good -try for a young choreographer. - -The third work in this group is one I felt should have been given a -better chance. It was _Devil’s Holiday_, by Frederick Ashton, the -leading choreographer of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, and his first -all-balletic work to be seen on this side of the Atlantic. Done at the -opening of our 1939-1940 season, at the Metropolitan Opera House, under -the stress and strain of a hectic departure, and a hurried one, from -Europe after the outbreak of the war, it suffered as a consequence. In -settings and costumes by Eugene Berman, its score was a Tommasini -arrangement of Paganini works. Ashton had been able only partially to -rehearse the piece in Paris before the company made its getaway, -eventually to reach New York on the day of the Metropolitan opening, -after a difficult and circuitous crossing to avoid submarines. On -arrival, a number of the company were taken off to Ellis Island until we -could straighten out faulty visas and clarify papers. I am certain -_Devil’s Holiday_ was one of Ashton’s most interesting creations; it -suffered because the creator was unable to complete it and, as a -consequence, America was never able to see it as its creator intended, -or at anything like its best. - -With the 1940-1941 season, deterioration had set in at the vitals of the -Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, Massine had exerted tremendous efforts. The -company he had created was a splendid one. But, as both leading dancer -and chief choreographer, he had no time to rest, no time to think. The -same sloughing off that took place with the de Basil company was now -becoming apparent in this one. There was a creaking in the vessel -proper, an obvious straining at the seams. The non-Massine productions -lacked freshness or any distinctive quality. There were defections among -some of the best artists. Massine was coming up against a repetition of -his de Basil association. Friction between Massine and Denham increased, -as the latter became more difficult. - -I could not be other than sad, for Massine had given of his best to -create and maintain a fine organization. He had been a shining example -to the others. The company had started on a high plane of -accomplishment; but it was impossible for Massine to continue under the -conditions that daily became less and less bearable. Heaven knows, the -“Colonel” had been difficult. But he had an instinct for the theatre, a -serious love for ballet, a broad experience, was a first-class -organizer, and an untiring, never ceasing, dynamic worker. - -Sergei Denham, by comparison, was a mere tyro at ballet direction, and -an amateur at that. But, amateur or not, he was convinced he had -inherited the talent, the knowledge, the taste of the late Serge -Diaghileff. - -I had not devoted twenty-eight years of hard, slogging work to the -building of good ballet in America to allow it to deteriorate into a -shambles because of the arbitrariness of another would-be Diaghileff. - -It was time for a change. - - - - -9. What Price Originality? -The Original Ballet Russe - - -The condition of the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe in 1941 being as I have -described it, it became imperative for me to try to improve the -situation as best I could. It was a period of perplexity. - -The “Colonel,” once more installed in the driver’s seat of his company, -with its name now changed from Educational Ballets, Ltd., to the -Original Ballet Russe, had been enjoying an extended sojourn in -Australia and New Zealand, under the management of E. J. Tait. - -Although I knew deterioration had set in with the old de Basil -company--so much so that it had been one of the salient reasons for the -formation of the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, quite apart from the -recurring personality clashes--I was now faced with a deterioration in -the latter company, one that had occurred earlier in its history and -that was moving more swiftly: a galloping deterioration. As I watched -the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo company performances, I was acutely -conscious not only of this, but I saw disruption actively at work. The -dancers themselves were no longer interested. They day-dreamed of -Broadway musicals; they night-dreamed of the hills of Hollywood and film -contracts. Some were wistfully thinking in terms of their own little -concert groups. The structure was, to say the least, shaky. - -From the reports that reached me of the Original company’s success and -re-establishment in Australia, I sensed the possibility (and the hope) -that a rejuvenation had taken place. Apart from that, there had been new -works added to the repertoire, works I was eager to see and which I felt -would give the American ballet-goer a fresh interest, for that important -individual had every right to be a bit jaded with things as they were. - -Since I had taken the precaution to have the “exclusivity” clause -removed from my Universal Art contract, I was free to experiment. I -therefore arranged to bring de Basil and his Original Ballet Russe to -America from Australia. They arrived on the Pacific Coast, and we played -an engagement in Los Angeles, another in Chicago, yet another in Canada. -Then I brought them to New York. - -This was a season when the Metropolitan Opera House was not available -for ballet performances. Therefore, I took the Hollywood Theatre, on -Broadway, today rechristened the Mark Hellinger. - -I opened the season with a four weeks’ engagement of the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, followed immediately by the Original Ballet Russe, making a -consecutive period of about fifteen weeks of ballet at one house, -setting up a record of some sort for continuous ballet performances on -Broadway. - -Christmas intervened, and, following my usual custom, I gave a large -party at Sherry’s in honor of Mrs. Hurok’s birthday, which occurs on the -25th December, at which were gathered the entire personnel of the -company, together with Katherine Dunham, Argentinita, and other -distinguished guests. - -If I should be asked why I again allied myself with the “Colonel,” I -already have given a partial answer. There was a sentimental reason, -too. It was a case of “first love.” I wanted to go back to that early -love, to try to recapture some of the old feeling, the former rapture. I -should have realized that one does not go back, that one of the near -impossibilities of life is to recapture the old thrill. Those who can -are among the earth’s most fortunate. - -This ten-week season was expensive. The pleasure of trying to recapture -cost me $70,000 in losses. - -There were, however, compensations: there was the unending circus of -“Mutt and Jeff,” the four-feet-seven “Sasha” Philipoff and the -six-feet-two “Colonel.” - -There was a repertoire that interested me. It was a pleasure once again -to luxuriate in the splendors of _Le Coq d’Or_, although the investiture -had become a shade or two tarnished from too much travel and too little -touching-up. It was refreshing to see Baronova and Toumanova in brisk -competition again in the same company, for the latter had already become -one of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo defections. - -It is difficult for me to realize that Irina Baronova no longer dances. -She was the youngest of the “baby ballerinas.” Gentle, shy, with -honey-colored hair, Irina was born in Leningrad, and eventually reached -Paris, with her family, by way of the Orient. About her was a simple, -classical beauty, despite the fact that she always found it necessary to -disguise (on the stage) her rather impudent little nose in a variety of -ways by the use of make-up putty. It was so when she started in as a -tiny child to study with the great lady of the Maryinsky, Olga -Preobrajenska, whose nose also has a tilt. - -To George Balanchine must go the credit for discovering Baronova in -Preobrajenska’s School in Paris, when he was on the search for new -talents at the time of the formation of the de Basil-Blum Les Ballets -Russes de Monte Carlo. About her work there was always something joyful -and yet, at the same time, something that was at once wistful and -tender. - -As a classical dancer there was something so subtle about her art that -its true value and her true value came only slowly upon one. There was -no flash; everything about her, every movement, every gesture, flowed -one into another--as in swimming. But not only was she a great classical -dancer, she was the younger generation’s most accomplished mime. - -I like to remember her as the Lady Gay, that red-haired trollop of the -construction camps, in _Union Pacific_, with her persuasive, -characteristic “come-up-and-see-me-sometime” interpretation; to remember -her in the minor role of the First Hand in _Le Beau Danube_, carefree, -innocent, flirting at the side of the stage with a park artist. I like -to remember her in _Jeux d’Enfants_, as she ran through the gamut of -jealousy, petulance, anger, and triumph; in _Les Présages_, as the -passionate woman loving with her whole being, fighting off the evil that -threatens love; in the mazurka in _Les Sylphides_; in _The Hundred -Kisses_, imperious, sulky, stubborn, humorously sly; and as the -Ballerina in _Petroushka_, drawing that line of demarcation between -heartless doll and equally heartless flirting woman. - -Performance over, and away from the theatre, another transformation took -place; for Irina was never off-stage the _grande artiste_, the -_ballerina_, but a healthy, normal girl, with a keen sense of humor. - -After a turn or two as a “legitimate” actress and a previous marriage, -Baronova now lives in London’s Mayfair, the wife of a London theatrical -manager, with her two children. The triumph of domesticity is ballet’s -loss. - -I should like to set down from my memory the additions to the repertoire -of the Original Ballet Russe while they had been absent from our shores. - -There were some definitely refreshing works. Chief among these were two -Fokine creations, _Paganini_ and _Cendrillon_. - -The former had been worked out by Fokine with Sergei Rachmaninoff, -utilizing for music a slightly re-worked version of the latter’s -_Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini_. Serge Soudeikine had designed a -production that ranked at the top of that Russian designer’s list of -theatre creations. The entire ballet had a fine theatrical -effectiveness. Perhaps the whole may not have been equal to the sum of -its parts, but the second scene, wherein Paganini hypnotized a young -girl by his playing of the guitar and the force of his striking -personality, thereby forcing her into a dance of magnificent frenzy, was -a striking example of the greatness of Fokine. Tatiana Riabouchinska -rose to tremendous heights in the part. I remember Victor Dandré, so -long Pavlova’s life-partner and manager, telling me how, in this part, -Riabouchinska reminded him of Pavlova. Dandré did not often toss about -bouquets of this type. - -_Cendrillon_ was Fokine’s retelling of the Cinderella tale. The score, -by Baron “Freddy” d’Erlanger, was certainly no great shakes, but Fokine -illuminated the entire work with the sort of inventiveness that was so -characteristic of him at his best. It would be unjust to compare this -production with the later Frederick Ashton _Cinderella_, to the -Prokofieff score, which he staged for the Sadler’s Wells Ballet; the -approach was quite different. The de Basil-Fokine production -nevertheless had a distinct charm of its own, enhanced by a genuine -fairy-tale setting by Nathalie Gontcharova. - -A lesser contribution to the repertoire was a symbolic piece, _The -Eternal Struggle_, staged by Igor Schwezoff, in Australia, to Robert -Schumann piano music, orchestrated by Antal Dorati. It served the -purpose of introducing two Australian designers to America: the Misses -Kathleen and Florence Martin. - -There was a duo of works by David Lichine, one serious and unsuccessful, -the other a comedy that had a substantial audience success and which, -since then, has moved from company to company. The former, _Protée_, was -arranged to Debussy’s _Danses Sacré et Profane_, in a Chirico setting -and costumes. The latter, _Graduation Ball_, Lichine had staged during -the long Australian stay. Its music was an admirable selection and -arrangement of Johann Strauss tunes by Antal Dorati. Its setting and -costumes were by Alexandre Benois. Much of its humor was sheer horseplay -and on the obvious side; but it was completely high-spirited, and was -the season’s comedy success. - -A third work, credited to Lichine, was _The Prodigal Son_, a ballet that -was the outstanding creation of the last Diaghileff season, in 1929. Set -to a memorable commissioned score by Serge Prokofieff, by George -Balanchine, with Serge Lifar, Leon Woizikovsky, Anton Dolin and Felia -Dubrowska in the central roles, it had striking and evocative settings -and costumes by Georges Rouault. De Basil had secured these properties, -and had had the work re-done in Australia by Lichine. Lichine insisted -he had never seen the Balanchine original and thus approached the -subject with a fresh mind. However, Serge Grigorieff was the general -stage director for both companies. It is not beyond possibility that -Grigorieff, with his sensitive-plate retentive mind for balletic detail, -might have transferred much of the spirit and style of the original to -the de Basil-Lichine presentation. However it may have been, the result -was a moving theatrical experience. My strongest memory of it is the -exciting performance given by Sono Osato as the exotic siren who seduces -the Prodigal during his expensive excursion among the flesh-pots. - -During this Hollywood Theatre season we also had _Le Cotillon_, that had -served originally to introduce Riabouchinska to American audiences. We -also, I am happy to remember, had Fokine’s Firebird, in the original -choreography, and the uncut Stravinsky score, together with the -remarkable settings and costumes of Gontcharova. Its opening performance -provided a few breath-taking moments when Baronova’s costume gave way, -and she fought bravely to prevent an embarrassing exposure. - -During their tenure of the Hollywood Theatre, we managed one creation. -It was _Balustrade_. Its choreography was by George Balanchine. Its -music was Igor Stravinsky’s Violin Concerto, played in the orchestra pit -by Samuel Dushkin, for whom it was written. Stravinsky himself came on -from California to conduct the work. As is so often the case with -Balanchine, it had neither story nor theme nor idea; it was simply an -abstraction in which Balanchine set out to exploit to the fullest the -brittle technical prowess of Tamara Toumanova. The only reason I could -determine for the title was that the setting, by Pavel Tchelitcheff, -consisted of a long balustrade. Unfortunately, despite all the costs, -which I paid, it had, all told, one consecutive performance. - -The close of the season at the Hollywood Theatre found me, once again, -in a perplexed mood. The de Basil organization, riddled by intrigue and -quite out of focus, was not the answer. Its finances were in a parlous -state. I disengaged my emotions and surveyed both the negligible -artistic accomplishments and the substantial financial losses. I turned -a deaf ear to de Basil’s importunings to have me undertake another -American tour, although I did sponsor engagements in Boston and -Philadelphia, and undertook to send the company to Mexico and South -America. - -As matters stood, neither the company nor the repertoire was good -enough. I still had one more season tied to the Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, and that, for the moment, was enough of trouble. I argued with -myself that the Denham difficulties were sufficient unto one day, -without deliberately and gratuitously adding those of the “Colonel.” - -Fresh troubles arose in Philadelphia, from which point the company was -to depart for Mexico City. Tamara Toumanova’s presence with the company -was one of the conditions of the Mexican contract. - -It will not be difficult, I think, for the reader to imagine my feelings -when, on my arrival in Philadelphia, I was greeted by Toumanova with the -news that she was leaving the company, that her contract with de Basil -had expired, and that nothing in her life had given her greater -happiness than to be able to quit. - -De Basil was not to be found. He had gone into hiding. I went into -action. I approached “Gerry” Sevastianov and his wife, Irina Baronova, -to help out the situation by agreeing to have Baronova go to Mexico in -place of the departing Toumanova. She consented, and this cost me an -additional considerable sum. - -Having succeeded in this, de Basil emerged from his hiding place to hold -me up once again by demanding money under duress. He had no money and -had to have cash in advance before he would move the company to Mexico. -Once there, he raised objections to the Baronova arrangements, did not -want her to dance or as a member of the company; and there was a general -air of sabotage, egged on, I have no doubt, by a domestic situation, -wherein his wife wanted to dance leading roles. - -Somehow we managed to get through the Mexico City engagement and to get -them to Cuba. There matters came to a head with a vengeance. Because of -de Basil’s inability to pay salaries, he started cutting salaries, with -a strike that has become a part of ballet history ensuing. - -Once more I dispatched my trusty right hand, Mae Frohman, to foreign -parts to try to straighten matters out. There was nothing she could do. -The mess was too involved, too complicated, and the only possible course -was for me to drop the whole thing. - -De Basil, looking for new worlds to conquer, started for South America. -His adventures in the Southern Hemisphere have no important place in -this book, since the company was not then under my management. They -would, moreover, fill another book. The de Basil South American venture, -however, enters this story chronologically at a later point. Let it be -said that the “Colonel’s” adventures there were as fantastic as the man -himself. They included, among many other things, defection after -defection, sometimes necessitating a recruiting of dancers almost from -the streets; the performances of ballets with girls who had never heard -of the works, much less seen them, having to rehearse them sketchily -while the curtain was waiting to rise; the coincidence of performance -with the outbreak of a local revolution; flying his little company in -shifts, since only one jalopy plane, in a dubious state of repair, was -available. I shall not go into his fantastic financing, this being one -of the few times when, as I suggested at the beginning of this book, the -curtain might be lowered for a few discreet moments, in order to spare -the feelings of others rather than my own. - -In the quiet of the small hours of the morning, I would lie awake and -compare the personalities of the two “organizers,” de Basil and Denham, -reviewing their likenesses and their differences. As I dozed off, I came -to the conclusion that most generalizations about personality are wrong. -When you have spent hours, days, months, years in close association and -have been bored and irritated by a flamboyant individual, you are apt to -think that restraint and reticence are the only virtues. Until you meet -a quiet fellow, who is quiet either because he has nothing to say or -nothing to make a noise about, and then discover his stillness is merely -a convenient mask for deceit. - -Massine, unable to continue any longer with the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe -management, severed his connection with the company he had made, in -1942. Save for a few undistinguished creations, de Basil was skating -along as best he could on his Diaghileff heritage; classicism was being -neglected in the frantic search for “novelties.” Both companies were -making productions, not on any basis of policy, but simply for -expediency and as cheaply as possible. Existing productions in both -companies were increasingly slipshod. While it is true that a good -ballet is a good ballet, it is something less than good when it receives -niggardly treatment or when it is given one less iota than the strictest -attention to detail. - -That is exactly what happened when the companies split, and split again: -the works suffered; this, together with the recurring internal crises, -boded ill for the future of ballet. There was the ever-present need for -money for new productions. Diaghileff had one Maecenas after another. By -the beginning of the third decade of the twentieth century, a Maecenas -was becoming a rare bird indeed. Today he is as dead as the proverbial -Dodo. - -I had certain definite convictions about ballet, I still have them. One -of them is that the sound cornerstone of any ballet company must be -formed of genuine classics. But these must never take the form of -“modern” versions, nor additionally suffer from anything less than -painstaking productions, top-drawer performances, and an infinite -respect for the works themselves. Ballet may depart from the classical -base as far as it wishes to experiment, but the base should always be -kept in sight; and psychological excursions, explorations into the -subconscious, should never be permitted to obscure the fact that the -basic function of ballet is to entertain. By that I do not mean to -suggest ballet should stand still, should chain itself to reaction and -the conservatism of a dead past. It should look forward, move forward; -but it must take its bearings from those virtues of a living past, which -is its heritage: all of which can be summed up in one brief phrase--the -classical tradition. - -There are increasingly frequent attempts to create ballets crammed with -symbols dealing with various aspects of sex, perversion, physical and -psychological tensions. In one of the world’s great ballet centers there -have been attempts to use ballet as a means to promulgate and -propagandize political ideologies. I am glad to say the latter have been -completely unsuccessful and they have returned to the classics. - -I should be the last person to wish to limit the choreographer’s choice -of subject material. That is ready to his hand and mind. The fact -remains that, in my opinion, ballet cannot (and will not) be tied down -to any one style, aesthetic, religion, ideology, or philosophy. -Therefore, it seems to me, the function of the choreographer is to -express balletic ideas, thought, and emotion in a way that first and -foremost pleases him. But, at the same time, I should like to remind -every choreographer of a distinguished authority, when he said, -“Pleasure, and pleasure alone, is the purpose of art.” But pleasure -differs in kind according to the way that individuals and groups of -individuals differ in mental and emotional make-up. Thus ballet provides -pleasure for the intellectual and the sensualist, the idealist and the -realist, the Catholic, the Protestant, the Atheist. And it will remain -the function of the choreographer to provide this infinite variety of -pleasure until such time that all men think, feel, and act alike. - -Ballet was at a cross-road. I was at a cross-road in my career in -ballet. It was at this indecisive point there emerged a new light on the -balletic horizon. It called itself Ballet Theatre. It interested me very -much. - - - - -10. The Best of Plans ... -Ballet Theatre - - -During the very late ’thirties, Mikhail Mordkin had had a ballet -company, giving sporadic performances on Sunday nights, occasionally on -week-day evenings, and, now and then, some out-of-town performances. It -was a small company, largely made up of Mordkin’s pupils, of which one, -Lucia Chase, was _prima ballerina_. Miss Chase was seen in, among other -parts, the title role of _Giselle_, in which she was later replaced by -Patricia Bowman. - -This little company is credited with having given the first performance -on this continent of the full-length Tchaikowsky _Sleeping Beauty_. In -order that the record may be quite clear on this point, the production -was not that of the Petipa masterpiece, but rather Mordkin’s own -version. It was presented at Waterbury, Connecticut, in 1937. Waterbury -is the home town of Lucia Chase. Lucia Chase was the Princess Aurora of -the production. So far as the records reveal, there was a single -performance. - -The season of 1938-1939 was the Mordkin company’s last. It was, as a -company, foredoomed to failure from the very start, in my opinion. Its -repertoire was meagre, unbalanced; it had no dancers who were known; it -lacked someone of _ballerina_ stature. - -Towards the end of the company’s existence, Mordkin had an associate, -Richard Pleasant, whose interest in ballet had, in earlier days, caused -him to act as a supernumerary in de Basil company productions, and who -had an idea: an idea that has lurked in the minds of a number of young -men I know, to wit: to form a ballet company. It is one thing to want to -form a ballet company, another to do it. In addition to having the idea, -one must have money--and a great deal of it. - -In this case, idea and money came together simultaneously, for the -Mordkin school and company had Lucia Chase, with ambitions and interest -as well. Lucia Chase had money--a great deal of it--and she wanted to -dance. She had substantially financed the Mordkin company. Pleasant went -ahead with his plan for a grandiose organization--with his ideas and -Chase’s money. The Mordkin company was closed up; and a new company, on -a magnificent scale, calling itself Ballet Theatre, was formed. - -The Mordkin venture had been too small, too limited in its scope, too -reactionary in thought, so Mordkin himself was pushed into the -background, soon to be ousted altogether, and the tremendous undertaking -went forward on a scale the like of which this country had never seen. -In a Utopia such a pretentious scheme would have a permanent place in -the cultural pattern, for the company’s avowed policy, at the outset, -was to act as a repository for genuine masterpieces of all periods and -styles of the dance; it would be to the dance what a great museum is to -the arts of sculpture and painting. The classical, the romantic, the -modern, all would find a home in the new organization. The company was -to be so organized that it could compete with the world’s best. It -should be large. It should have ample backing. - -The company’s debut at the Center Theatre, in New York’s Rockefeller -Center, on 11th January, 1940, was preceded by a ballyhoo of circus -proportions. The rehearsal period preceding this date was long and -arduous. The company’s slogans included one announcing that the works -were “staged by the greatest collaboration in ballet history.” It was a -“super” organization--imposing, diverse and diffuse. But it was a big -idea, albeit an impractical one. Its impracticability, however, did not -lessen the impact of its initial impression. More than thirteen years -have elapsed since Ballet Theatre made its bow, and one can hardly -regard its initial roster of contributors even now without an astonished -blink of the eyes. There were twenty principal dancers, fifteen -soloists, a _corps de ballet_ of fifty-six. In addition, there was a -Negro group numbering fourteen. There was an additional Spanish group of -nineteen. The choreographers numbered eleven; an equal number of scene -and costume designers; three orchestra conductors. Eighteen composers, -living and dead, contributed to the initial repertoire of as many works. - -Although the founders were American, as was the backing, there was no -slavish chauvinism in its repertoire, which was cosmopolitan and -catholic. Only two of its eleven choreographers were natives: Eugene -Loring and Agnes de Mille. The company was international. Three of the -choreographers were English: Anton Dolin, Andrée Howard, and Antony -Tudor. Four were Russian: Michel Fokine, Adolph Bolm, Mikhail Mordkin, -Bronislava Nijinska. - -Only five of the eighteen works that made up the repertoire of the -introductory season of Ballet Theatre remain in existence: _Giselle_, -originally staged, after the traditional production, by Anton Dolin, who -had joined the venture after an Australian stint with de Basil’s -Original Ballet Russe; _Swan Lake_, in the one-act version, also staged -by Dolin; Fokine’s masterpiece, _Les Sylphides_; the oldest ballet -extant, _La Fille Mal Gardée_, staged by Bronislava Nijinska; and Adolph -Bolm’s production of the children’s fairy tale, _Peter and the Wolf_, to -the popular Prokofieff orchestral work, with narrator. - -It was significant to me that the outstanding successes of that first -season were the classics. First, there was _Les Sylphides_, restored by -the master himself. This, coupled with Dolin’s _Swan Lake_, and -_Giselle_, constituted the backbone of the standard repertoire. - -The first four weeks’ season was, perhaps, as expensive a balletic -venture as New York has known, with the possible exception of the Ballet -International of the Marquis de Cuevas, some four years later. - -Following Ballet Theatre’s introductory burst of activity, there was a -hiatus, during which the company gave sporadic performances in -Philadelphia, some appearances at the Lewisohn Stadium in New York, and -appeared in Chicago in conjunction with the Chicago Opera Company. - -Before Ballet Theatre embarked on its second season, trouble was -cooking. There were indications Lucia Chase and Pleasant were not seeing -exactly eye to eye. The second New York season was announced to open at -the Majestic Theatre, on 11th February, 1941. Now the Majestic Theatre -is a far cry from the wide open spaces of the Center Theatre. It is the -house where I had given a brief and costly season with de Basil’s -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo in the early days, on a stage so small that -no justice can be done to dance or dancers, and where the capacity does -not admit of meeting expenses even when sold out. - -Pleasant’s newest idea, announced before the season opened, was to -present a “company.” There were to be no distinctions or classifications -of dancers. One of the time-honored institutions of ballet was also -abolished; there was no general stage director, or _régisseur-general_, -as he is known in the French terminology of ballet. Instead, the company -was divided, like all Gaul, into three parts, to be known as “Wings,” -with Anton Dolin in charge of the “Classic Wing”; Antony Tudor, of the -“English Wing”; Eugene Loring, of the “American Wing.” Five new works -were added to the repertoire, of which only two remain: Eugene Loring’s -_Billy the Kid_, to one of Aaron Copland’s finest scores, and Agnes de -Mille’s _Three Virgins and a Devil_, to Ottorino Respighi’s _Antiche -Danze ed Arie_. Dolin’s _Pas de Quatre_, produced at this time, has been -replaced in the company’s repertoire by another version. - -The differences between Pleasant and Chase came to a head, and the -former was forced to resign at the end of the four weeks’ season, which -resulted in more substantial losses. - -It was at this time that I was approached on behalf of the organization -by Charles Payne, seeking advice as to how to proceed. We lunched -together in Rockefeller Plaza, and while I am unable to state that the -final decision was wholly mine or that the terminal action was taken -exclusively on my advice, I counselled Payne that, in my opinion, the -only course for them to follow would be to close down the company -completely, place everything they owned into storage, and start afresh -after reorganization. Receipts at the box-office having fallen as low as -$319 a performance, there was no other choice. In any event, my advice -was followed. - -Reorganization was under way. In an organization of this magnitude and -complexity, reorganization was something that took a great deal of both -thought and time. It was by no means a simple matter. While the -reorganization was in its early, indecisive stages, with protracted -debates going on within the circle as to whether it should continue in -any form or fold its wings in the sleep everlasting, Anton Dolin came to -me to ask me to take over the management of the venture. - -This was not a thing to be regarded lightly. The situation in ballet in -general, and with the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe in particular, being as I -have described it, I was interested in and attracted by the potential -value of the company, if the proper sort of reorganization could be -effected. Their Chicago season had been a complete fiasco at the -box-office. There is a legend to the effect that, in an effort to -attract a few people into the Chicago Opera House, members of the -company stood outside the building as the office-workers from the -surrounding buildings wended their way homeward to the suburban trains, -passing out free tickets. The legend also has it that they managed to -get some of these free tickets into the hands of a local critic who was -one of the crowd. - -I do not wish to bore the reader with the details of all the debates -that highlighted those days. Sufficient is it to say that they were -crowded and that the nights were often sleepless. - -Anton Dolin was responsible for having German (“Gerry”) Sevastianov, no -longer associated with de Basil, appointed as managing director, in -succession to the resigned Pleasant. - -The negotiations commenced and were both long and involved between all -parties concerned which included discussion with Lucia Chase and her -attorney, Harry M. Zuckert. Matters were reaching a point where I felt a -glimmer of light could be detected, when a honeymoon intervened, due to -the marriage of Zuckert. Ballet waited for romance. Throughout the long -drawn-out discussions and negotiations, Zuckert was always pleasant, -cooperative, diplomatic, and evidenced a sincere desire to avoid any -friction. - -Among the first acts of Sevastianov, after taking over the directorship, -was to engage his wife, Irina Baronova, as a leading ballerina, together -with Antal Dorati, former musical director of the de Basil company, and -today the musical director of the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, to -direct and supervise the music of Ballet Theatre. Later, through the -good offices of Anton Dolin, Alicia Markova, whose contract with the -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo had terminated, became one of the two -_ballerine_ of the company. - -The negotiations dragged on during the summer. Meanwhile, with the -company and its artists inactive, Markova and Dolin, on their own, -leased Jacob’s Pillow, the Ted Shawn farm and summer theatre in the -Berkshires, and gave a number of performances under the collective title -of International Dance Festival. This was a quite independent venture, -but Markova and Dolin peopled their season and school with the personnel -of Ballet Theatre. - -This summer in the Berkshires had a two-fold effect on the company: -first, the members were thus able to work together as a unit; second, -with three choreographers in residence, it was possible for them to lay -out and develop the early groundwork of three works, subsequently to be -added to the Ballet Theatre repertoire: _Slavonika_, by Vania Psota; -_Princess Aurora_, by Anton Dolin; and _Pillar of Fire_, by Antony -Tudor. - -Two of these were major contributions; one was pretty hopeless. Dolin’s -_Princess Aurora_ was a reworking of the last act of Tchaikowsky’s _The -Sleeping Beauty_, a sort of _Aurora’s Wedding_, with the addition of the -_Rose Adagio_, giving the company another classic work that remains in -the company’s repertoire today, with some “innovations.” _Pillar of -Fire_, set to Arnold Schönberg’s _Verklärte Nacht_, revealed a new type -of dramatic ballet which, in many respects, may be said to be Tudor’s -masterpiece. _Slavonika_ was set by the Czech Psota to a number of -Dvorak’s _Slavonic Dances_, and was an almost total loss, from every -point of view. The original version, as first produced, ran fifty-five -minutes. I thought it would never end. But, as the tour proceeded, it -was cut, and cut again. The last time I saw it was when I visited the -company in Toronto. Then it was blessedly cut down to six minutes. After -that, no further reduction seemed possible, and it was sent to the limbo -of the storehouse, never to be seen again. - -The deal between Ballet Theatre and myself was closed during the time -the company was working at Jacob’s Pillow, and I took over the company -in November, 1941. It might be of interest to note some of the chief -personnel of the company at that time. Among the women were: Alicia -Markova, Irina Baronova, Lucia Chase, Karen Conrad, Rosella Hightower, -Nora Kaye, Maria Karnilova, Jeanette Lauret, Annabelle Lyon, Sono Osato, -Nina Popova, and Roszika Sabo; among the men were: Anton Dolin, Ian -Gibson, Frank Hobi, John Kriza, Hugh Laing, Yurek Lasovsky, Nicolas -Orloff, Richard Reed, Jerome Robbins, Dmitri Romanoff, Borislav Runanin, -Donald Saddler, Simon Semenoff, George Skibine, and Antony Tudor, to -list them alphabetically, for the most part. Later, Alicia Alonso -returned to the organization. A considerable number had been brought as -a strengthening measure by Sevastianov. - -One of the company’s weaknesses was in its classical and romantic -departments. While there were Fokine’s _Les Sylphides_ and _Carnaval_, I -felt more Fokine ballets were necessary to a balanced repertoire. -Sevastianov engaged Fokine to re-stage _Le Spectre de la Rose_ and -_Petroushka_, and to create a new work for Anton Dolin and Irina -Baronova. Fokine started work on _Bluebeard_, to an Offenbach score, -arranged and orchestrated by Antal Dorati, with scenery and costumes by -Marcel Vertes. - -Meanwhile, I lived up to my contract with the Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, and presented them, in the autumn of 1941, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, and subsequently on tour. - -In order to prepare the new works, Ballet Theatre went to Mexico City, -returning to New York to open at the Forty-fourth Street Theatre, on -12th November, 1941. In addition to the existing Ballet Theatre -repertoire, four works were added and had their first New York -performances: Psota’s _Slavonika_, and Dolin’s re-creation of _Princess -Aurora_, which I have mentioned, together with _Le Spectre de la Rose_, -and Bronislava Nijinska’s _The Beloved One_. The last was a revival of a -work originally done to a Schubert-Liszt score, arranged by Darius -Milhaud, for the Markova-Dolin Ballet in London. In the New York -production it had scenery and costumes by Nicolas de Molas. It was not a -success. - -The season was an uphill affair. Business was not good, but matters were -improving slightly, when we reached that fatal Sunday, the seventh of -December. Pearl Harbor night had less than $400 in receipts. The world -was at war. The battle to establish a new ballet company was paltry by -comparison. Nevertheless, our plans had been made; responsibilities had -been undertaken; there were human obligations to the artists, who -depended upon us for their livelihood; there were responsibilities to -local managers, who had booked us. There was a responsibility to the -public; for, in such times, I can conceive no reason why the cultural -entertainment world should stand still. It is a duty, I believe, to see -that it does not. In Russia, during the war, the work of the ballet was -intensified; in Britain, the Sadler’s Wells organization carried on, -giving performances throughout the country, in camps, in factories, in -fit-ups, as an aid to the morale both civilian and military. There could -be no question of our not going forward. - -Leaving New York, we played Boston, Philadelphia, a group of Canadian -cities, Chicago. With such a cast and repertoire, it was reasonable to -expect there would be large audiences. The expectation was not -fulfilled. The stumbling-block was the title: Ballet Theatre. The use of -the two terms--“ballet” and “theatre”--as a means of identifying the -combination of the balletic and theatrical elements involved in the -organization, is quite understandable, in theory. As a practical name -for an individual ballet company, it is utterly confusing and -frustrating. I am not usually given to harboring thoughts of -assassination, but I could murder the person who invented that title and -used it as the name for a ballet company. Ballet in America does not -exist exclusively on the support of the initiated ballet enthusiast, the -“balletomane”--to use a term common in ballet circles to describe the -ballet “fan.” The word “balletomane” itself is of Russian origin, a -coined word for which there is no literal translation. Ballet, in order -to exist, must draw its chief support from the mass of theatregoers, -from the general amusement-loving public, those who like to go to a -“show.” The casual theatregoer, when confronted with posters and a -marquee sign reading “Ballet Theatre,” finds himself confused, more -likely than not believing it to be the name of the theatre building -itself. My own experience and a careful survey has demonstrated this -conclusively. - -My losses in these days of Ballet Theatre were prodigious. Both Chase -and Sevastianov were aware of them. Other managements, in view of such -losses, might well have dropped the entire venture. In view of the heavy -deficits I was incurring and bearing single-handed, I felt some -assistance should be given. - -An understanding was reached whereby I agreed to reduce the number of -new productions to be furnished for the next season, in order that their -expenses might be minimized. In consideration of this a certain amount -was refunded. At that moment it was a help; but not a sufficient help to -reduce my losses to less than $60,000. As a matter of fact, the -agreement was beneficial to both sides. In my case, it temporarily eased -the burden of meeting a heavy weekly payroll at a time when there were -practically no receipts; as for Ballet Theatre, it substantially reduced -their investment in new productions. - -The continuing war presented additional problems. Personnel changes were -frequent on the male side of the company owing to the war-time draft. -There was an increasing demand for ballet; but a new uninformed, -uninitiated public was not in the market for ballet companies, but for -ballets--works about which they had somehow heard. I had two companies, -Ballet Theatre and the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, and I presented -them, one after the other, at the Metropolitan Opera House. In my -opinion, many of the problems could have been solved by a merger of the -two groups, had such a thing been possible, thus preserving, I believe, -the best properties and qualities of each of them. - -During the spring of 1942, two new works were presented: Tudor’s _Pillar -of Fire_, on which he had been working for a long time, and Fokine’s -_Russian Soldier_. The latter was done at a time when we were all -thrilled by the tremendous effort the Russians were making in their -battles, their heroic battles, against the Nazi invader. In discussing -the idea with Fokine, himself Russian to the core, we emphasized the -symbolic intent of the tragedy, that of the simple Russian peasant who -sacrifices his life for his homeland. Although we of course did not -realize it at the time, this was to be the last work Fokine was to -complete in his long list of balletic creations. _Russian Soldier_ had -some of the best settings and costumes ever designed by the Russian -painter, Mstislav Doboujinsky. For music, Fokine utilized the orchestral -suite devised by Serge Prokofieff from his score for the satirical film, -_Lieutenant Kije_, which was extremely effective as music, but with -which I was never entirely happy, since Prokofieff, the musical -satirist, had packed it with his own very personal brand of satire for -the satiric film for which the music was originally composed. At the -same time, I doubt that any substantial portion of the audience knew the -source of the music and detected the satire; the great majority found -the work a moving experience. - -Aside from being perhaps Tudor’s most important contribution to ballet, -_Pillar of Fire_--with its settings and costumes by Jo Mielziner, his -first contribution as a noted American designer to the ballet -stage--served to raise Nora Kaye from the rank and file of the original -company to an important position as a new type of dramatic _ballerina_. - -Leonide Massine, parting with the company he had built, joined Ballet -Theatre as dancer and choreographer before the company’s departure for a -second summer season at the Palacio des Bellas Artes in Mexico City, as -guests of the Mexican Government. - -In addition to performances there, the company used the Mexican period -as one of creation and rehearsal. Massine was in the midst of a creative -frenzy, working on two new ballets. One was _Don Domingo_, which had -some stunning scenery and costumes by the Mexican artist, Julio -Castellanos; an intriguing score by Sylvestre Revueltas; a Mexican -subject by Alfonso Reyes; _Don Domingo_ was prompted by the sincere -desire to pay a tribute to the country south of the border which had -played host to the company. That was Massine’s intention. Unfortunately, -the work did not jell, and was soon dropped from the repertoire. - -The other work was _Aleko_, which takes rank with some of the best of -Massine’s creations. It was a subject close to his heart and to mine, -the poetic Pushkin tale of the lad from the city and his tragic love for -the daughter of a gypsy chieftain, a love that brings him to two murders -and a banishment. As a musical base, Massine took the Trio for piano, -violin, and violoncello which Tchaikowsky dedicated “to the memory of a -great artist,” Nicholas Rubinstein, in an orchestration by Erno Rapee. -The whole thing was a fine piece of collaboration between Massine and -the surrealist painter, Marc Chagall; and the work was deeply moving, -finely etched, with a strong feeling for character. - -I have particularly happy memories of watching Chagall and his late wife -working in happy collaboration on the _Aleko_ production in Mexico City. -While he busied himself with the scenery, she occupied herself with the -costumes. The result of this fine collaboration on the part of all the -artists concerned resulted in a great Russian work. - -The Ballet Theatre management was, to put it mildly, not in favour of -_Aleko_. It was a production on which I may be said to have insisted. -Fortunately, I was proved correct. Although it was dropped from the -repertoire not long after Ballet Theatre and I came to a parting of the -ways, it has now, ten years after its production, been crowned with -success in London. Presented at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, by -Ballet Theatre, in the summer of 1953, it has proved to be the -outstanding hit of their London season, both with press and public. I -cannot remember the unemotional and objective _Times_ (London) waxing -more enthusiastic over a balletic work. - -During the Mexican hegira the company re-staged the Eugene Loring-Aaron -Copland _Billy the Kid_, still one of the finest American ballets, -although originally created in 1938. Certainly it is one of Copland’s -most successful theatre scores. Simon Semenoff also brought forth a -condensed and truncated version of Delibes’s _Coppélia_, as a vehicle -for Irina Baronova, with settings and costumes by Robert Montenegro. It -was not a success. It was a case of tampering with a classic; and I hold -firmly to the opinion that classics should not be subjected to tampering -or maltreatment. There is a special hades reserved for those -choreographers who have the temerity to draw mustaches on portraits of -lovely ladies. - -Yet another Mexican creation that failed to meet the test of the stage -was _Romantic Age_, a ballet by Anton Dolin, to assorted music by -Vincenzo Bellini, in a setting and with costumes by Carlos Merida. An -attempt to capture some of the balletic atmosphere of the “romantic age” -in ballet, it was freely adapted from the idea of _Aglae, or The Pupil -of Love_, a work by Philippe Taglioni, dating back to 1841, originally a -vehicle of Marie Taglioni. - -Michel Fokine and his wife Vera were also with the company in Mexico -City, re-staging his masterpiece, _Petroushka_, and commencing a new -work, _Helen of Troy_, based on the Offenbach _opéra bouffe_, _La Belle -Hélene_. Unfortunately, Fokine was stricken with pleurisy and returned -to New York, only to die from pneumonia shortly after. - -_Helen of Troy_, however, promised well and a substantial investment had -already been made in it. David Lichine was called in and worked with -Antal Dorati on the book, as Dorati worked on the Offenbach music, with -Lichine staging the work on tour after the Metropolitan Opera House -season in New York. Still later, when Vera Zorina appeared with the -company, George Balanchine restaged it for his wife. The final result -was presumably a long way from Fokine, but a version of it still remains -in the Ballet Theatre repertoire today. - -André Eglevsky joined the company during this season. Later on, Irina -Baronova, under doctor’s orders, left. Because there was no sound -artistic direction and no firm discipline in the company, I urged -Sevastianov to engage an experienced and able ballet-master and -_régisseur-general_ in the person of Adolph Bolm, to be responsible for -the general stage direction, deportment, and the exercise of an artistic -discipline over the company’s dancers, particularly the dissident -elements in it, which made working with them exceedingly difficult at -times. Sevastianov discussed the matter with Miss Chase, who agreed. -Before accepting, Bolm telephoned me from California seeking my advice -and I could but urge him to accept because I felt this would go a long -way toward stabilizing the company artistically. - -It was at the close of the autumn season of 1942, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, that I bade good-bye to the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo and -Universal Art. There was a brief ceremony back-stage at the end of the -last performance. Denham and I both made farewell speeches. It is -always a sad moment for me to leave a company for whose success I have -given so much of my time, my energy, and money. I felt this sadness -keenly as I took leave of the nice kids. - -The subsequent Ballet Theatre tour developed recurring headaches. They -were cumulative, piling up into one big headache, and it will be less -trying both to the reader and to myself to recount it later in one -place, at one time. - -With the spring of 1943, back we came to the Metropolitan for our spring -season. There was a managerial change. German Sevastianov went off to -war as a member of the United States Army, and J. Alden Talbot became -managing director in his stead. This began the period of the wisest -direction Ballet Theatre has known. Janet Reed joined the company as a -soloist, and Vera Zorina appeared as guest artist in _Helen of Troy_, -and in a revival of George Balanchine’s _Errante_. This was a work set -to the music of Schubert-Liszt, originally done for Tilly Losch for _Les -Ballets 1933_, in London, when Balanchine left de Basil, and one which -the American Ballet revived at the Adelphi Theatre, in New York, two -years later, with Tamara Geva. Balanchine also revived Stravinsky’s -_Apollon Musagète_, with André Eglevsky, Zorina, Nora Kaye, and Rosella -Hightower, to one of Stravinsky’s most moving scores. - -The other work was history-making. It was Antony Tudor’s _Romeo and -Juliet_. It was a work of great seriousness and fine theatrical -invention. On the opening night Tudor had not finished the ballet, -although he had been at it for months. It was too late to postpone the -_première_, so, after a good deal of persuading, it was agreed to -present it in its unfinished state. The curtain on the first performance -fell some twelve minutes before the end. I have told this tale in detail -in _Impresario_. The matter is historic. There is no point in laboring -it. Tudor is an outstanding creator in the field of modern ballet. -_Romeo and Juliet_ is a monument to his creative gifts. The pity is that -it no longer can be given by Ballet Theatre, no longer seen by the -public, with its sharp characterization, its inviolate sense of period, -the tenseness of its drama sustained in the medium of the dance. - -Tudor’s original idea with _Romeo and Juliet_ was to utilize the Serge -Prokofieff score for the successful Soviet ballet of the same title. -However, he found the Prokofieff score was unsuitable for his -choreographic ideas. He eventually decided on various works by the -English composer, Frederick Delius. Because of the war, it was found -impossible to secure this musical material from England. Consequently, -Antal Dorati, the musical director, orchestrated the entire work from -listening to gramophone recordings of the Delius pieces. How good a job -it was is testified by Sir Thomas Beecham, the long-time friend of -Delius and the redoubtable champion of the composer’s music. I engaged -Sir Thomas to conduct a number of performances of _Romeo and Juliet_ at -the Metropolitan Opera House, and he was amazed by the orchestration, -commenting, “Astounding! Perfectly astounding! It is precisely as -written by my late friend.” - -The list of Beechamiana is long; but here is one more item which I -believe has the virtue of freshness. I should like to record an incident -of Sir Thomas’s first orchestral rehearsal of _Romeo and Juliet_. As I -recall it, this rehearsal had to be sandwiched in between a broadcast -concert rehearsal Sir Thomas had to make and the actual orchestral -broadcast to which he was committed. There was no time to spare. Our -orchestra was awaiting him at their places in the Metropolitan pit. The -rehearsal was concise, to the point, with few stoppings or corrections -on Sir Thomas’s part. At the conclusion, Sir Thomas looked the men over -with a pontifical eye. Then he addressed them as follows: “Ladies and -gentlemen. I happen to be one of those who believes music speaks its own -language, and that words about it are usually a waste of time and -effort. However, a word or two at this juncture may not be amiss.... I -happened to know the late composer, Mr. Delius, intimately. I am also -intimately acquainted with his music. I have only one suggestion, -gentlemen. Tonight, when we play this music for this alleged ballet, if -you will be so good as to confine yourselves to the notes as written by -my late friend, Mr. Delius, and not _improvise_ as you have done this -afternoon, I assure you the results will be much more satisfactory.... -Thank you very much.” And off he went. - -That night the orchestra played like angels. The ballet was in its -second season when I invited Sir Thomas to take over the performances. -It was a joy to have him in command of the forces. Too little attention -is accorded the quality of the orchestra and the conductor in ballet. -Quite apart from the musical excellence itself, few people realize of -what tremendous value a good conductor and a good orchestra can be to -ballet as a whole. _Romeo and Juliet_ never had such stage performances -as those when Sir Thomas was in charge. And this is not said in -disparagement of other conductors. Not only was the Beecham orchestral -tone beautifully transparent, but Sir Thomas blended stage action and -music so completely that the results were absolutely unique. The -company responded nobly to the inspiration. It was during this season, -endeavoring to utilize every legitimate means to stimulate interest on -the part of the public that, in addition to Sir Thomas and various guest -dancing stars, I also brought Igor Stravinsky from California to conduct -his own works during the Metropolitan Opera House engagement. - -For the sake of the record, let me briefly cite the chronological -tabulation of Ballet Theatre through the period of my management. In the -autumn of 1943, at the Metropolitan Opera House, there were three new -productions, one each by Massine, Tudor, and David Lichine: -_Mademoiselle Angot_, _Dim Lustre_, and _Fair at Sorotchinsk_. - -Massine took the famous operetta by Charles Lecocq, _La Fille de Mme. -Angot_, and in a series of striking sets by Mstislav Doboujinsky, turned -it into a ballet, which, for some reason, failed to strike fire. It is -interesting to note that when, some years later, Massine produced the -work for Sadler’s Wells at Covent Garden, it was a considerable success. -Tudor’s _Dim Lustre_, despite the presence of Nora Kaye, Rosella -Hightower, Hugh Laing, and Tudor himself in the cast, was definitely -second-rate Tudor. Called by its creator a “psychological episode,” this -sophisticated Edwardian story made use of Richard Strauss’s _Burleske_, -an early piano concerto of the composer’s, with a set and costumes by -the Motley sisters. Lichine’s _Fair at Sorotchinsk_ was a ballet on a -Ukrainian folk tale straight out of Gogol, with Moussorgsky music, -including a witches’ sabbath to the _Night on a Bald Mountain_, with -settings and costumes by Nicolas Remisoff. It was an addition to the -repertoire, if only for the performance of Dolin as Red Coat, the Devil -of the Ukraine, who danced typically Russian Cossack toe-steps and made -toe-pirouettes. Had the Cossack “Colonel” de Basil seen this, he would, -I am sure, have envied Dolin for once in his life. While _Fair at -Sorotchinsk_ did not have a unanimously favorable reception at the hands -of the press, it was generally liked by the public, as evidenced by the -response at the box-office. - -After the 1943-1944 tour, two more works were added during the spring -season at the Metropolitan Opera House, two sharply contrasted works by -American choreographers: Jerome Robbins and Agnes de Mille. Robbins’s -_Fancy Free_ was a smash hit, a remarkable comedy piece of American -character in a peculiarly native idiom. As a result of this work, -Robbins leapt into fame exactly as Agnes de Mille had done a couple of -years before as the result of her delightful _Rodeo_. _Fancy Free_ was -a collaborative work between Robbins and the brilliant young composer -and conductor, Leonard Bernstein, whose score was as much of a hit as -was the ballet itself. Bernstein’s conducting of the orchestra was also -a telling factor, for his dynamism and buoyancy was transmitted to the -dancers. - -Agnes de Mille’s work, _Tally-Ho_, was in a much different mood from her -_Rodeo_. From present-day America, she leapt backwards to the France of -Louis XVI, for a period farce-comedy, set to Gluck melodies, -re-orchestrated by Paul Nordoff. The settings and costumes, in the style -of Watteau, were by the Motleys, who had decorated her earlier _Three -Virgins and a Devil_. Combining old world elegance with bawdy humor, -_Tally-Ho_ had both charm and fun, and although the company worked its -hardest and at its very best for Agnes, and although she put her very -soul into it, it was not the success that had been hoped. - -Only one _première_ marked the autumn season at the Metropolitan. It was -one done by Balanchine, called _Waltz Academy_, the first work he had -created for Ballet Theatre, in contrast to numerous revivals I have -mentioned. It was not a very good ballet, static in effect, although -classical in style. Its setting was a reproduction of the ballet room at -the Paris Opera, by Oliver Smith. The music was a dry orchestration of -dance melodies, largely waltzes, by Vittorio Rieti, who composed a pair -of latter-day Diaghileff works. A ballet that could have been -entertaining and lively, just missed being either. - -The lack of new works and the necessity to stimulate public interest -made it necessary to add guest stars, particularly since Markova and -Dolin had left the company to appear in Billy Rose’s revue, _The Seven -Lively Arts_. Consequently, Tamara Toumanova, Tatiana Riabouchinska, -David Lichine, and André Eglevsky made guest appearances. - -The subsequent tour compounded internal complications until the only -ameliorating feature of my association was the wise and understanding -cooperation of J. Alden Talbot, who was, I knew, on the verge of -resigning his post, for reasons not entirely different from my own in -considering writing a book to be called _To Hell with Ballet!_ - -On tour, during 1944-1945, Tudor rehearsed the only new work to be -offered during the 1945 spring season at the Metropolitan. It was -_Undertow_, the story of an adolescent’s neurosis, suggested to Tudor by -the well-known playwright, John van Druten. It was packed with symbols, -Freudian and otherwise; and my own reaction to its murky tale dealing -with an Oedipus complex, a bloody bitch, a lecherous old man’s affair -with a whore, a mad wedding, a group of drunken charwomen, a rape of a -nasty little girl by four naughty little boys, and a shocking murder, -was one of revulsion. The score was specially commissioned from the -present head of the Juilliard School, the American William Schuman. The -settings and costumes, as depressing as the work itself, were by the -Chicago painter, Raymond Breinin. - -The rigors of war-time ballet travel were considerable, a constant -battle to arrive on time, to be able to leave in time to arrive in time -at the next city. Each day presented a new problem. But it had its comic -side as well. We had played the Pacific Northwest and, after an -engagement in Portland, there followed the most important engagement of -the west thus far, that at the War Memorial Opera House, in San -Francisco. - -There was immense difficulty in getting the company and its properties -out of Portland at all. It should be remembered, and there is no harm -pointing out that the entire railway transportation system of our -country from Portland, Oregon, in the far Northwest, to New Orleans, in -the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, is in the hands of a single railway, -thousands of miles of it single-track line, with no competition, and -thus a law unto itself. For a long time, during this particular tour, -this railway insisted, because of military commitments, it could not -handle the company and its baggage cars from Portland to San Francisco -in time for the first performance there. - -The reader should know that there are no reduced fares or concessions -for theatrical or ballet companies. First-class fares are paid, and full -rates for Pullmans and food. My representative, with a broad experience -in these matters, continued to battle, and it was eventually arranged -that the company would be attached in “tourist” coaches to a troop train -bound for the south, but with no dining facilities for civilians and no -provision for food or drink. At least, it would get them to San -Francisco in time for the opening performance. - -So, the rickety tourist cars were attached to the troop train and the -journey commenced. The artists were carefully warned by my -representative that this was a troop train, that no food would be -available, and that each member of the company should provide himself -enough food and beverage for the journey. - -At daybreak of the next morning, cold and dismal, the train stopped at a -junction point in the Cascades to add a locomotive for the long haul -over the “divide.” Opposite the station was a “diner.” Twelve members of -the company, including four principal artists, in nightclothes--pyjamas, -nightgowns, kimonos, bed-slippers, with lightweight coats wrapped round -them--insisted on getting down from the train and crossing to the little -“diner” for “breakfast.” - -Our company manager warned them not to leave the train; told them that -there would be no warning, no signal, since this was not a passenger -train but a troop train, and that they risked missing the train -altogether. He begged, pleaded, ordered--to no avail. Off they went in -the cold of the dawn, in the scantiest of nightclothes. - -Silently and without warning, as the manager had foretold, the train -pulled out, leaving a dozen, including four leading artists, behind in -an Oregon tank town without clothes or tickets. - -By dint of a dozen telephone calls and as many telegrams, the -nightgown-clad D.P.’s were picked up by a later train. After fourteen -hours in day coaches, crowded with regular passengers, they arrived at -the San Francisco Ferry, still in their nightclothes, thirty minutes -before curtain time; they were whisked in taxis to the War Memorial -Opera House. The curtain rose on time. The evening was saved. - -It had its amusing side. It was one of the many hardships of wartime -touring, merely one of the continuous headaches, although a shade on the -unusual side. It was also yet another example of the utter lack of -discipline and consideration in the company, and of the stubborn refusal -of some of its members to cooperate in the cause of a fine art. - -Another of the many incidents having to do with the difficulties of -war-time touring was one in Augusta, Georgia, where no hotel or other -housing accommodations could be found, due to the war-time overcrowding. - -Most of the company slept, as best they could, in the railway station or -in the public park. It is recorded that Alicia Markova spent the night -sleeping on the sidewalk in the entrance-way to a grocer’s shop, wrapped -in newspapers and a cloak by the company manager, while that guardian -angel spent the night sitting on the edge of an adjoining -vegetable-stand, watching over her, smoking an endless chain of -cigarettes. - -This attitude was but an indication of the good sportsmanship the -youngsters evidenced on more than one occasion, proving that, _au fond_, -they were, on the whole, good “troupers.” - -While I had been prepared for the departure from the company of J. Alden -Talbot, I was saddened, nevertheless, when he left. Lucia Chase and the -scene designer, Oliver Smith, became joint managing directors, with the -result that there was precious little management and even less -direction. We played a summer season in California, at the War Memorial -Opera House in San Francisco, in conjunction with the City’s Art -Commission, and at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles. In Hollywood we -rehearsed some of the new works to be given in New York in the autumn. -They were five in number, and unequal both in quality and appeal. Only -one was a real success. The five works were by an equal number of -choreographers: Simon Semenoff, Michael Kidd, John Taras, Jerome -Robbins, and Adolph Bolm. - -Semenoff’s work, _Gift of the Magi_, was an attempt to make a ballet out -of O. Henry’s little short story of the same title, a touching tale of -the pathos of a young married couple with taste and no money. For the -ballet, young Lukas Foss wrote a workmanlike score, and Raoul Péne du -Bois supplied a great deal of scenery, difficult to manipulate. Nora -Kaye and John Kriza, as the young lovers, gave it a sweetness of -characterization. But, despite scenery, costumes, properties, and sweet -characterization, there was no real choreography, and the work soon left -the repertoire. - -Michael Kidd’s first choreographic attempt for Ballet Theatre, and his -first full-scale work as a matter of fact, was a theatre piece. A -musical comedy type of work, it never seemed really to belong in a -ballet repertoire. Kidd called it _On Stage!_ For it Norman dello Joio -provided a workable and efficient score, and Oliver Smith designed a -back-stage scene that looked like back-stage. The costumes were designed -by Alvin Colt. - -Another first choreographic effort was young John Taras’s _Graziana_, -for which I paid the costs. Here was no attempt to ape the Broadway -musical comedy theatre. It was a straightforward, fresh, classical -piece. Taras had set the work to a Violin Concerto by Mozart. He used a -concise group of dancers, seventeen all told, four of whom were -soloists. There was no story, simply dancing with no excuses, no -apologies, no straining for “novelty,” tricks, stunts, or gags. It was, -in effect, ballet, and the public liked it. Just what the title meant I -never knew. My guess is that Taras had to call it something, and -_Graziana_ was better than Number One. - -The Robbins work came directly from Broadway, or the Avenue of the -Americas, to be precise. It was called _Interplay_, and had originally -been done for a variety show at the Ziegfeld Theatre. It was Robbins’s -second work. It was merely a piece of athletic fun. It was a genuine -hit. For music it had Morton Gould’s _Interplay Between Piano and -Orchestra_, which he had originally written for a commercial radio -programme as a brief concert piece for José Iturbi, with orchestra. The -“interplay” in the dance was that between classical dance and “jive.” -Actually what emerged was a group of kids having a lot of fun. For once, -in a long while, I could relax and smile when I saw it, for this was a -period when I had little time for relaxation and even less cause to -smile. - -The production of Stravinsky’s _Firebird_ is something with which I -shall deal separately. There was still another season to tour and a -spring season at the Metropolitan Opera House, in 1946. In outlining the -productions and chronology of Ballet Theatre during this period, I have -tried to be as objective as possible so that the organization’s public -history may be a matter of record. Its private history, in so far as my -relations are concerned, is quite another matter. - -The troubles, the differences, the discussions, the intrigues of de -Basil and his group, of Universal Art were, for the most part, all of a -piece. I cannot say I ever got used to them, but I was prepared for -them. I knew pretty much the pattern they would follow, pretty much what -to expect. Being forewarned, I was forearmed. With Ballet Theatre I had -expected something different. Here I was not dealing with the -involutions and convolutions of the Cossack and the Slavic mind. Here, I -felt, would be an American approach. If, as a long-time American, I felt -I knew anything about the American people, one of their most distinctive -and noteworthy characteristics was their honesty of approach, their -straightforwardness, directness, frankness. Alas, I was filled with -disillusionment on this point. Ballet Theatre, in its approach to any -problem where I was concerned, had a style very much its own: full of -queer tricks, evasions, omissions, and unexpected twists of mind and -character, as each day disclosed them. - -There were two chief bones of contention. One was the billing. I have -pointed out the lack of public interest in Ballet Theatre when I took it -over and how the very title worked to its disadvantage. If ballet is to -remain a great, universal entertainment in this country, and is, by the -purchase of tickets at the box-office, to help pay its own way, at -least in part, we must have a great mass audience as well as “devotees.” - -The other bone of contention, and the one which eventually caused the -rupture of our association, was the matter of guest artists. The -opposition to guest artists was maintained on an almost hysterical -level. There were, as in every discussion, two sides to the question. -Reasonably stated, Lucia Chase’s argument could have been that Ballet -Theatre was an organic whole; that it was an instrument with the -sensitivity of a symphony orchestra, and “stars” damaged such a -conception. As a matter of fact, it was her basic argument. The -argument, plausible enough on the surface, does not, however, stand up -under examination, for the comparison with a symphony orchestra does not -hold. - -Lacking the foresight and wisdom to keep the members of her company -under contract, each season there were presented to Miss Chase a flock -of new faces, new talents, unfamiliar with the repertoire, trained in a -variety of schools with a corresponding variety of styles; it took them -months to become a fully functioning and completely integrated part of -Miss Chase’s “organic whole.” Great symphony orchestras hold their -players together jealously year after year. Great symphony orchestras -manage to reduce their colossal deficits to some extent by the -engagement of distinguished soloists to appear with their “organic -wholes.” Such is the present state of musical appreciation in this -country that it is an open secret that in many cities the way to sell -out, or nearly sell out the house, is to engage soloists with box-office -appeal. I do not here refer to such great symphonic bodies as the Boston -Symphony Orchestra, the Philadelphia Orchestra, the New York -Philharmonic-Symphony Orchestra, but I do refer to those symphonic -bodies in those many cities that are something less than metropolitan -centers. Nor do I mean to suggest that this situation is one to be -commended or applauded, or that it represents the ultimate desired -_raison d’être_ for the existence of a symphony orchestra. But I do -suggest it is the only system feasible in the perilous situation today -in which our symphonic bodies are compelled to operate. - -The analogy between ballet and symphony in this view is not apposite. -Again there was no attempt on Miss Chase’s part to understand the -situation; there was merely stubborn, unrelenting opposition after -recrimination. It should be recorded that J. Alden Talbot during his -tenure as general manager of Ballet Theatre fully realized and -understood the situation and shared my feelings. I remember one day in -Montreal when I had a conference with Lucia Chase to go over the entire -matter of guest artists. I listened patiently to her mounting hysteria. -I pointed out that, as the company became better known throughout the -country, as the quality of public ballet appreciation improved, the -company of youngsters might be able to stand on their own _pointes_; but -that, since the company and its personnel were as yet unknown, it would -require infinite time, patience, and money to build them up in the -consciousness of the public; and that, meanwhile, at this point in the -company’s existence, the guest stars gave a much needed fillip to the -organization, and that, to put it bluntly, they were a great relief to -some of the public, at any rate; for the great public has always liked -guest stars and some local managements have insisted on them; of that -the box-office had the proof. It was my contention that the guest star -principle had been responsible for American interest in ballet. I hope -the reader will pardon me if I link that system, coupled with my own -love, enthusiasm, and faith in ballet, with the popularity that ballet -has in this country today. There is such a thing as an unbecoming -modesty, and I dislike wearing anything that is unbecoming. - - -_TAMARA TOUMANOVA_ - -It was during the 1945-1946 season, for example, that I engaged Tamara -Toumanova as a guest artist. In addition to appearing in _Swan Lake_, -_Les Sylphides_, and various classical _pas de deux_, I had Bronislava -Nijinska stage a short work she called _Harvest Time_, to the music of -Henri Wieniawski, orchestrated by Antal Dorati, in which Toumanova -appeared with John Kriza, supported by a small _corps de ballet_. The -association, I fear, was not too happy for any of us, including the -“Black Pearl.” There was a resentment towards her on the part of some of -the artists, and Toumanova, over-anxious to please, almost literally -danced her head off; but the atmosphere was not conducive to her best -work. - -Having watched Toumanova from childhood, knowing her as I do, it is not -easy, nor is it a simple matter for me to draw an objective portrait of -her, as she is today. One thing I shall _not_ do, and that is to go very -deeply into biographical background. That she was born in a box-car in -Siberia, while her parents were escaping into China from the Russian -Revolution, is a tale too often told--as are the stories of her -beginnings as a dancer in Paris with Olga Preobrajenska, and an -appearance at the Paris Trocadero on a Pavlova programme, at the age of -five or so. - -It was her father, Vadim Boretszky-Kasadevich, who called a temporary -halt to the child prodigy business, by insisting that dance be suspended -for a year until she could do some school work. - -Discovered at Preobrajenska’s school by George Balanchine, he placed her -with the de Basil company, and for a half-dozen years she remained -there, save for a brief interlude with Balanchine’s short-lived _Les -Ballets 1933_. - -It was that same year that I brought the de Basil company to America the -first time, where she joined the trinity of “baby ballerinas”--Baronova -and Riabouchinska, of course, being the other two. It is a matter of -history how Toumanova became the American rotogravure editors’ delight; -how America became Toumanova-conscious. - -Strong, remarkably strong though her technique was even in those days, -her performances were frequently uneven. Toumanova was a temperamental -dancer then, as now, and to those who know only her svelte, slender, -mature beauty of today, there may be some wonder that in those days she -had to fight a recurring tendency towards _embonpoint_, and excessive -_embonpoint_. But there were always startling brilliancies. In _Jeux -d’Enfants_ and _Cotillon_, I remember the dazzling _fouetées_. It is one -of Toumanova’s boasts that she was the first dancer to do thirty-two -double _fouetées_ and sixteen triples in actual performance. I am not an -authority on these technical matters and can, therefore, merely record -the statement. - -Her unsuccessful Broadway appearance (a musical called _Stars in Your -Eyes_) was followed by a reunion with the de Basil Company in Australia -and a short season with him at the Hollywood Theatre, in New York; and -there was a later sojourn with the Massine Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. -Then Hollywood beckoned. There was one film in which she played an -acting part, _Days of Glory_. The picture was certainly not much to talk -about, but she married the producer-writer, Casey Robinson. - -Since then, she has turned up as guest-artist with one organization -after another: the Paris Opera Ballet, the Marquis de Cuevas company, -Anton Dolin’s Festival Ballet in London, the San Francisco Civic Ballet; -a nomadic balletic existence, interrupted by another Hollywood film -appearance, this time in the role of Pavlova in _Tonight We Sing_, based -on my earlier book, _Impresario_. - -As a person there is something about her that is at once naive and -ingenuous and, at the same time, deep and grave and tragic. She cries -still when she is happy, and is also able to cry when she is sad. She -adores to be praised; but, unlike some other dancers I know, she is also -anxious for criticism. She solicits it. And when she feels the -criticism is sound, she does her best to correct--at least for the -moment--the faults that have prompted it. Her devotion to her -mother--“Mamochka”--herself an attractive, voluble, and highly emotional -woman, is touching and sometimes a shade pathetic. Toumanova’s whole -life, career, and story have been, for the most part, the -thrice-familiar tale of the White Russian _émigré_. Like all _émigré_ -stories, hers is extremely sentimental. Sentiment and sentimentality -play a big part in Tamara’s life. - -She is, I feel, unbreakable, unquenchable. She is, in her maturity, even -more beautiful than she was as a “baby ballerina.” She is, I suppose, -precisely the popular conception of what a glamorous _ballerina_ is, or -at least should be. Her personality is that of a complete theatrical -extrovert. The last row of the gallery is her theatre target. Hers is -not a subtle personality. It is a sort of motion picture idea of a -_ballerina assoluta_, a sort of reincarnation of the fascinating -creatures from whose carriages adoring balletomanes unhitched the horses -and hauled them to Maxim’s for supper, dining the course of which the -creatures were toasted in vintage champagne drunk from slippers. It -doesn’t really matter that her conception is a bit dated. With Toumanova -it is effective. - -Tamara’s conception of the ballerina in these terms is deliberate. She -admits her desire is to smash the audience as hard as she can. With her -a straight line is veritably the shortest distance between two points, -and no _ballerina_ makes the distance between herself and her audience -so brief. This conception has been known to lead to overacting and to -the ignoring of the colleagues with whom she is dancing at the time. - -There is with her, as ever, great charm, an eager enthusiasm, and I am -happy to say, a fine sense of loyalty. This is a quality I particularly -appreciate. It has been shown to me on more than one occasion. When I -brought the Paris Opera Ballet for the New York City Festival, Tamara -was not nor had she been at that time a member of the Paris Opera -Company. She barely knew Lifar, yet it was she who became his champion -in New York. It was a calculated risk to her career which she took, -because she respected Lifar as an artist, did not believe the stories -about him, and was interested in fair play. - -As I watch Toumanova today, I see but an extension in time, space and -years of the “baby ballerina” in her adult personality; there is still -an extravagant and dazzling glamor; there is still steely technique; -there is still a childlike naivete about her, even when she tries to be -ever so sophisticated; everything about her is still dramatic and -dramatized. And there is still “Mamochka,” in constant attendance, -helping, criticizing, urging; and although Tamara has been happily -married for a decade or so, “Mamochka” is still the watchdog. Many -ballet “mamas” are not only difficult, but some of them are overtly -disliked. Toumanova’s mother is another category. She has been at all -times a fine and constructive help to Tamara, both with practical -assistance and theoretical advice. - -Tamara’s approach to the dance is beautiful to observe. Her devotion to -ballet amounts almost to a religion. Nothing under the sun is more -important to her than her work, her attendance at lessons. Nothing ever -is permitted to interfere with these. - -I firmly believe that such is her concentration and devotion to her work -that, if a fire were to break out back-stage during a performance while -Tamara was in the midst of her fabulous _fouetées_, she would continue -with them, completely unperturbed, more intent on _fouetées_ than on -fire. - -The Montreal discussions with the Ballet Theatre direction on the -subject of guest stars produced no understanding of the situation; only -the tiresomely reiterated, “It’s a sacrilege! It’s a crime!” - -What was a “crime” then, was a sheer necessity. Let us look, for a -moment, at the Ballet Theatre situation today, after it is no longer -under my management, but entirely on its own, responsible for its own -destiny. During the last year of our association, following the -resignation of J. Alden Talbot as managing director, as I have pointed -out, Lucia Chase, who pays the bills, and Oliver Smith became joint -managing directors. They were running the company when we came to a -parting of the ways. It was they who protested most bitterly over the -guest-star system. Now, with the company, after thirteen years of -existence, presumably established, Miss Chase is firmly perpetrating the -same “crime” herself. I certainly do not object to it. But surely what -was a “sacrilege,” what was a “crime” at the time I was responsible for -their perpetration, must, now that the Ballet Theatre is on its own, no -longer be either sacrilegious or criminal. - -Another recurring trouble source and the cause of many a contentious -discussion was the question of new productions. The arguments and -conferences over them were seemingly endless. Now the question of new -productions is one of the most vital and important in ballet management, -and one of the most pressing. All ballet management contracts call for a -ballet company to supply a certain number of new works each year. The -reason for this is that there must be a constant flow of new ballets in -a repertoire in order to attract the attention of both the critics and -the public. Standard works form the core of any repertoire and at least -one is necessary on every programme. But ballet itself, in order to keep -from becoming stagnant, must refresh itself by constantly expanding its -repertoire. Frequently, in contrast to the undying classics, nothing can -be deader than last years “novelty.” My contractual arrangement provides -that the management shall have the right either to accept or reject new -work as being acceptable or otherwise. - -As time went on, many of the new works produced, some of which were -accepted by me against my sounder judgment, proved, as I feared, to be -unacceptable to the general public throughout the country. It should be -clearly understood that ballet cannot live on New York alone. America is -a large continent, and the hinterland audiences, while lacking, perhaps, -some of the quality of sophistication of metropolitan audiences, are -highly selective and quite as critical today as are their New York -counterparts. A New York success is by no means an assurance of a like -reception in Kalamazoo or Santa Barbara. Ballet needs both Santa Barbara -and Kalamazoo, as it needs New York. The building of repertoire should -be the joint task of the company direction and the management--since -their desired ends are the same, viz., the successful continuation of -the organization. Repertoire is a responsible and exceedingly demanding -task. - -It certainly required no clairvoyance on my part to discern a very -definite antagonism toward any repertoire suggestions I offered. Certain -types of ballets were badly needed and were not forthcoming. Perhaps I -can most clearly illustrate my point by recapitulating the Ballet -Theatre repertoire at the time we parted company. - -There were: Fokine’s heritage--_Les Sylphides_, _Carnaval_, (no longer -in repertoire), _Petroushka_ (no longer in repertoire), _Spectre de la -Rose_ (no longer in repertoire), plus two creations, _Bluebeard_, and -_Russian Soldier_ (no longer in repertoire). Andrée Howard had staged -_Death and the Maiden_ and _Lady Into Fox_ (both dropped before I took -over the company). Bronislava Nijinska had revived _La Fille Mal -Gardée_ and _The Beloved One_ (no longer in the repertoire). Anton Dolin -had revived _Swan Lake_, _Giselle_ (now performed in a Balanchine -version), _Princess Aurora_ (now touched up by Balanchine), and had -created _Quintet_ (dropped after the first season), _Capriccioso_ -(dropped in the second season), _Pas de Quatre_ (now done in a version -by Keith Lester), and _Romantic Age_ (no longer in the repertoire). -Leonide Massine had revived _The Fantastic Toy Shop_, _Capriccio -Espagnol_, and _The Three-Cornered Hat_ (all out of repertoire). He had -produced three new works, _Don Domingo_, _Aleko_, and _Mlle. Angot_, -none of which was retained in the repertoire. Antony Tudor had revived -_The Lilac Garden_, _Judgment of Paris_, _Dark Elegies_, _Gala -Performance_, and had produced _Pillar of Fire_, _Romeo and Juliet_, -_Dim Lustre_, and _Undertow_, none of which remain. Agnes de Mille had -produced _Black Ritual_, _Three Virgins and a Devil_, and _Tally-Ho_, -none of which is actively in the repertoire. José Fernandez had produced -a Spanish work, _Goyescas_, which lasted only the first season. David -Lichine had revived _Graduation Ball_, and had produced _Helen of Troy_ -and _Fair at Sorotchinsk_ (the latter no longer in repertoire). Adolph -Bolm had revived his _Ballet Mecanique_ (first season life only), -produced _Peter and the Wolf_, a perennial stand-by, and the short-lived -version of _Firebird_. John Taras had contributed _Graziana_, and Simon -Semenoff a version of _Coppélia_ and _Gift of the Magi_, neither of the -three existing today. Jerome Robbins’s _Fancy Free_ and _Interplay_ -remain while his _Facsimile_ has been forgotten. Balanchine had revived -_Apollo_, _Errante_, and had produced _Waltz Academy_, all of which have -disappeared. - -In order to save the curious reader the trouble of any computation, this -represents a total of fifty-one ballets either produced during my -association with Ballet Theatre or else available at the time we joined -hands. From this total of fifty-one, a round dozen are performed, more -or less, today. A cursory glance will reveal that the repertoire was -always deficient in classical works. They are the backbone of ballet. It -is to be regretted that the Tudor ballets, which were the particular -glory of Ballet Theatre, have been lost to the public. - -I shall not labor the point of our differences, save to cite one work as -an example. That is the production of _Firebird_. This was the first -Stravinsky ballet for Diaghileff, and was first revealed in Fokine’s -original production at the Paris Opera in the Diaghileff season of 1910, -with Tamara Karsavina in the title role, Fokine himself as the handsome -Tsarevich, Enrico Cecchetti as the fearsome Kastchei, and Vera Fokina -as the beautiful Tsarevna whom the Tsarevich marries at the end. In -later productions Adolph Bolm took Fokine’s place as the Tsarevich. The -original settings and costumes were by Golovine. For a later Diaghileff -revival the immensely effective production by Nathalie Gontcharova was -created. This was the production revealed here by the de Basil company, -a quite glorious spectacle. - -_Firebird_ had always been a popular work when well done. From a musical -point of view it has been one of the most popular works in the -Stravinsky catalogue, both in orchestral programmes and over the radio. -One of the surest ways to attract the public to ballet is through -musical works of established popularity. This does not mean works that -are cheap or vulgar, for vulgarity and popularity are by no stretch of -the imagination synonymous: it means _Swan Lake_, _The Nutcracker_, _The -Sleeping Beauty_, _Schéhérazade_, _Coppélia_, _Petroushka_, -_Firebird_--I mention only a few--the music of which has become -familiar, well-known, and loved through the medium of radio and -gramophone recordings. This is the music that brings people to ballets -of which it is a part. - -Miss Chase was flatly opposed to _Firebird_. Her co-director had no -choice but to follow her lead. I was insistent that _Firebird_ be given -as one of the new productions required under our contract for the season -1945-1946; and then the trouble began in earnest. - -There were various dissident elements in the Ballet Theatre -organization, as there are in all ballet companies. These elements had -no very clear idea of what they wanted, or for what they stood. Their -vision was cloudy, their aims vague, their force puny. The company -lacked not only any artistic policy, but also a managing director -capable of formulating one, and able to mould these various dissident -elements into what Miss Chase liked to call her “organic whole.” - -With the exception of J. Alden Talbot and German Sevastianov, there had -never been a managing director or manager worthy of the title or the -post. During the Talbot regime, my relations with the Ballet Theatre -were at their highest level. I always found Talbot helpful, -understanding towards our mutual problems, cooperative, of assistance in -many ways. Because of his belief in the organization and his genuine -love for ballet, Talbot gave his services as general manager without fee -or compensation of any sort other than the pleasure of helping the -company. It is almost entirely thanks to Talbot that _Fancy Free_ -achieved production. Talbot was also instrumental in founding and -maintaining an organization known as _Ballet Associates_, later to -become _Ballet Associates in America_, since the function of the society -is to cultivate ballet in general in America in the field of -understanding, and, more specifically and particularly, to encourage, -promote and foster those creative workers whose artistic collaboration -makes ballet possible, viz., choreographers, composers, and designers. -The practical function of the society is very practical indeed, for it -means finding that most necessary fuel: money. The organization, through -the actively moving spirit of J. Alden Talbot, sponsored by substantial -contributions no less than four Ballet Theatre productions: Tudor’s -_Pillar of Fire_ and _Romeo and Juliet_, Agnes de Mille’s _Tally-Ho_, -and Dolin’s _Romantic Age_. It was entirely responsible for Michael -Kidd’s _On Stage!_ - -A cultured, able gentleman of charm, taste, and sensitivity, J. Alden -Talbot was the only person associated with Ballet Theatre direction able -to give it a sound direction, since he was able not only to shape a -definite policy, which is vastly important, but also to give it a sound -business management. - -Following Talbot’s departure, there came frequent changes in management, -changes seemingly made largely for purely personal reasons. At the time -of the stresses and strains over the inclusion of _Firebird_ into the -repertoire, although Lucia Chase and Oliver Smith were the titular -managing directors, there was no head to the organization and no -director or direction, in fact. Actually, caprice was at the helm and -Ballet Theatre had a flapping rudder, a faulty compass, with Chase and -Smith taking turns at the wheel trying to keep the badly listing ship -into the wind. Acting as manager was a former stage-manager, without -previous experience or any knowledge whatever of the intricate problems -of business management. With the enthusiasm of an earnest Boy Scout, he -commenced a barrage of bulletins and directives, and ludicrously -introduced calisthenics classes for the dancers, complete with -dumb-bells, down to the institution of his own conception of the -“Stanislavsky” method of dramatic expression, the latter taking the form -of setting the company to acting out charades on the trains while on -tour. - -Coincidental with this was increased intrigue and the outward expression -of his theme song, which he chanted to all within earshot, the burden of -which was: “How can we get rid of Hurok? How can we get rid of Hurok? -Who needs him?” - -The question of the _Firebird_ production was, as I have suggested, the -most contentious and controversial of any that arose in my relationships -with Ballet Theatre. - -_Firebird_ was hounded by troubles of almost every description, as each -day upturned them. Its production was marked by disputes, aggravations, -and untold difficulties from first to last. If history is to be -believed, that sort of thing has been its lot from its inception in the -Diaghileff days of 1910. - -The Adolph Bolm production eventually reached the stage of the -Metropolitan Opera House, after a series of vicissitudes, on the night -of the 24th October, 1945, with Alicia Markova in the title role, and -Anton Dolin in the role of Ivan Tsarevich, originally danced in the -Diaghileff production by Michel Fokine. - -The _Firebird_ is an expensive work to produce; there are numerous -scenes, each requiring its own setting and a large complement of -costumes. In order to help overcome some of the financial problems -involved, I agreed with Ballet Theatre to contribute a certain sum to -the cost of production. I shall have something more to say about this a -bit later. - -As for the work itself, I can only say that the conception and the -performance were infinitely superior to that which, in these latter -days, is given by the New York City Ballet, to which organization, as a -gesture, I gave the entire production for a mere token payment so far as -the original costs to me were concerned. - -Under my contractual arrangements with Ballet Theatre, the organization -was obligated to provide a new second ballet for the season. I felt -_Firebird_ had great audience-drawing possibilities. Ballet Theatre -insisted _Firebird_ was too expensive to produce and countered with the -suggestion that Antony Tudor would stage a work on the musical base of -Bartok’s _Concerto for Orchestra_. While this work would have been -acceptable to me, I could discover no evidence that it was in -preparation. - -Pursuing the matter of _Firebird_, Ballet Theatre informed me they were -not in a position to expend more than $15,000 in any production. I -suggested they prepare careful estimates on the cost of _Firebird_. This -was done--at least, they showed me what purported to be estimates--and -these indicated the costs would be something between $17,000 and -$20,000. Therefore, in order to ease their financial burden, I offered -to pay the costs of the production in excess of $15,000, but not to -exceed $5,000. And so it was, at last, settled. - -We had all agreed on a distinguished Russian painter, resident in -Hollywood, a designer of reputation, who not only had prepared a work -for Ballet Theatre, but whose contributions to ballet and opera with -other organizations had been considerable. - -Despite these arrangements, as time went on, there were definite -indications that _Firebird_ would not be ready for the opening date at -the Metropolitan Opera House, which had been agreed upon. No activity -concerning it was apparent, and Adolph Bolm, its choreographer, was -still in Hollywood. On the 15th September, I addressed an official -letter to Ballet Theatre concerning the delay. - -While no reply to this was forthcoming, I subsequently learned that, -without informing the original designer who had been engaged and -contracted to design the scenery and costumes, and who had finished his -task and had turned his designs over to the scene painters, without -informing the choreographer, without informing me, Ballet Theatre had -surreptitiously engaged another designer, who also was at work on the -same subject. We were now faced with two productions of the same work -which would, of course, require payment. - -A telephone call from Ballet Theatre to one of my staff, however, added -the interesting information that _Firebird_ (in any production) would -not be presented until I paid them certain moneys. The member of my -staff who received this message, quite rightly refused to accept the -message, and insisted it should be in writing. - -It was not until the 23rd October, the day before the work was scheduled -to be produced, that Oliver Smith, of the Ballet Theatre direction, -threatened officially to delay the production of _Firebird_ until I paid -them the sum they demanded. In other words, Ballet Theatre would not -present the Stravinsky work, and it would not open, unless I paid them -$11,824.87 towards its costs. These unsubstantiated costs included those -of _both_ productions, all in the face of my definite limitation of -$5,000 to be paid on _one_ production, since it was impossible to -imagine that there would be _two_ of them. - -Here was an ultimatum. The Metropolitan Opera House was already sold out -to an audience expecting to see the new _Firebird_. All-out advertising -and promotion had been directed towards that event. The ultimatum was, -in effect, no money, no production. - -It was, in short, a demand for money under duress, for which there is a -very ugly word. At any rate, here was a _bona fide_ dispute, a matter to -be discussed; and I suggested that Ballet Theatre submit the matter to -arbitration, both disputants agreeing, of course, to be bound by the -arbiter’s decision. - -Lucia Chase, Oliver Smith, and Ballet Theatre’s new general manager -refused to submit the matter to arbitration. The ultimatum remained: no -money, no performance. The sold-out house had been promised _Firebird_. -The public was entitled to see it. - -I paid them $11,824.87, the sum they demanded, under protest, noting -this money was demanded and paid under duress. _Firebird_ had its first -performance the next night, as scheduled. Meanwhile, the dress-rehearsal -that afternoon had been marked by a succession of scenes that can only -be characterized as disgraceful, the whole affair being conducted in an -atmosphere of tensity, ill-feeling, carping, with every possible -obstacle being placed in the way of a satisfactory performance and -devoid of any spirit of cooperation. - -It soon became apparent to me that the troubles attendant upon the -_Firebird_ production were merely symptomatic of something much larger, -something much more sinister; something that was, in effect, a -conspiracy to break the contract between us, a contract which was to -continue for yet another season. - -I learned through reliable sources that Ballet Theatre was -surreptitiously attempting to secure bookings on their own with some of -the local managers with whom I had booked them in the past, and with -whom I was endeavoring to make arrangeents for them for the ensuing -season. On the 28th February, I served official notice on the -directorate of Ballet Theatre calling upon them to cease this illegal -and unethical practice, and, at the same time, notified all managers of -my contract with the organization. - -It was early in our 1946 spring engagement at the Metropolitan Opera -House, and I was working alone one evening in my office. It was late, -the staff having long since left, and I continued at my desk until it -was time for me to leave for the Metropolitan Opera House. I had not -dined, intending to have a bite in Sherry’s Bar during one of the -intervals. As I was crossing the by now deserted and partly darkened -lower lobby of my office building, a stranger lunged forward from the -shadows and thrust a sheaf of papers into my hand, then hurried into the -street. Surprised, astonished, puzzled, I returned to my office to -examine them. - -The papers were a summons and complaint from Ballet Theatre. Although -my contract with the organization had another year still to run, Lucia -Chase and Oliver Smith were attempting to cancel the contract in -mid-season. The grounds on which the action was based, as were -subsequently proved, had no basis in fact. - -But the company was slipping. It had no policy, no one capable of -formulating or maintaining one. It was losing valuable members of its -personnel, some of whom could no longer tolerate the whims and -capriciousness of “Dearie,” as Chase was dubbed by many in the company. -Jerome Robbins had gone his way. Dorati, who gave the organization the -only musical integrity and authority it had, had departed. Others, I -knew, were soon to be on their way. Dry rot was setting in. As matters -stood, with the direction as it was, I had no assurance of any permanent -survival for it. The company continued from day to day subject to the -whims of Lucia Chase. The result was insecurity for the dancers, with -all of them working with a weather-eye peeled for another job. One more -season of this company, I felt, and I would be responsible for dragging -a corpse about the country, unless, of course, I should myself become a -corpse. - -Ballet Theatre’s lawyers and my trusted counsel of many years’ standing, -Elias Lieberman, arranged a settlement of our contract. Among its -clauses was a proviso that the properties for _Firebird_ remained my -property, together with a cash payment to me of $12,000. - -When the final papers were signed, we all shook hands. The parting -between us may be described as “friendly.” - - * * * * * - -What the future of Ballet Theatre may be, I have no way of knowing. I am -not a prophet; I am a manager. Ballet Theatre’s subsequent career has -not been particularly eloquent; not especially fortunate. There has been -a period when there was no ballet season, with the decision to spend a -“sabbatical” coming so late that many artists were left with no -employment at a time of the year when all other possibilities for work -with other companies had been exhausted. My own feeling, while wishing -them well, is that, so long as Ballet Theatre continues to have no -categorical policy or practice, and so long as it attempts to continue -with expediency dictating its equivocal programme, its future is -circumscribed. It is an axiom that a ballet company’s character is -determined by the personality of its director. - -However many collaborators Miss Chase may have on paper, Ballet Theatre -is and will remain her baby. Co-directors, advisory boards, even the -tax-exempt, non-profit organization called Ballet Theatre Foundation, -formed in 1947, as a “sponsoring” group, do not alter the fact that Miss -Chase is its sponsor. She pays the piper and the organization will dance -to his melody. Sponsoring groups of the type I have mentioned have -little value or meaning today. Ballet will not achieve health by -dripping economic security down from the top. The theory that propping -can be done by this method of dripping props from the top, does not mean -from the top of ballet, but, hopefully, from the top of the social and -financial worlds. - -Healthy ballet cannot come, in my opinion, from being treated as an -outlet or excuse for parties, nor from parties as an adjunct to ballet. -The patronage of the social world in such organizations is practically -meaningless today. It was useful, in bygone days, to have a list of -fancy names out of the Blue Book as patrons. The large paying audience -which ballet must have, and which I have developed through the years, -certainly pays no attention to social patronage today. As a matter of -fact, I suspect they resent it. The only people conceivably impressed by -such a list of names would be a handful of social climbers and society -columnists. The only patrons worth the ink to print their names are -those who pay for tickets at the box-office, average citizens, even as -you and I. - -Ballet cannot pay for itself, for new productions, for commissioned -works, by its box-office takings, any more than can opera or symphony -orchestras. The only future I can see is some form of Government subsidy -for ballet and the other arts. Some of our leading spirits in the fields -of art are opposed to this idea. This is difficult for me to understand. -I cannot conceive how there could be any hesitancy on that score. We -know that in Great Britain and in most countries of Europe the arts, -including ballet, are subsidized by the Government. These countries are -not Communist-dominated. Here in the United States many big businesses -are subsidized by the Government in one form or another, at one time or -another. There are the railways, the airlines, the shipping companies, -the mine subsidies, the oil subsidies--and the something like -twenty-seven-and-one-half percent deduction allowed annually on new -buildings erected is also a form of subsidy. - -In the United States only the arts and the artists are taboo when it -comes to Government help. I do not suggest that any of the arts should -be dependent upon charity, either by individuals or foundations. I feel -it is the plain duty of Government and of the lawmakers to finance and -subsidize the arts: ballet, orchestras, opera, painters, sculptors, -writers, composers. - -A country with the tremendous wealth we have should not have to depend -on charity or hobbyists for the advancement of culture and cultural -activities. - -Since we still lack what I feel is the only proper form of cultural -subsidy, we needs must get on as best we can with the private hobbyist -support. In this respect, Lucia Chase has been an extremely generous -sponsor of Ballet Theatre. I have said that a ballet company’s character -is determined by the personality of its director. I should like to add, -by the personality of its sponsor as well. Let us look at the -personality of Lucia Chase. - -With a fortune compounded in unequal parts of Yonkers Axminster and -Waterbury Brass, her largess has been tossed with what has seemed akin -to reckless abandon. A lady of “middle years,” she was born in -Waterbury, Connecticut, one of several children of a member of the Chase -Brass Company clan. A cultured lady, she went to the “right” finishing -school, did the “right” things, and, it is said, early evinced an -interest in singing and in the theatre. She married Thomas Ewing, to -whom the sobriquet, “the Axminster carpet tycoon,” has been applied. On -his death, Miss Chase was left with a fortune and two sons. Her -distraction over the loss of her husband, so it is said, drove her to an -early love as a possible means of assuaging her grief, viz., the dance. -She took ballet lessons from Mikhail Mordkin; financed the newly formed -Mordkin Ballet; in 1937, became its _prima ballerina_. So far as the -record reveals, her debut was made in the Brass City of her birth, in no -less a role than the Princess Aurora in _The Sleeping Beauty_. - -As a dancer, she is an excellent comedienne; yet for years she fancied -herself as a classical _ballerina_. Her insistence on dancing in such -ballets as _The Sleeping Beauty_, _Giselle_, _Pas de Quatre_, -_Petroushka_, _Princess Aurora_, and most of all, _Les Sylphides_, was -so regrettable that it raises the question that, if she is so -unconscious of her own limitations as a dancer, what are her -qualifications for the directorship of a ballet company? - -At the beginning of every venture, at the inception of every new idea, -Lucia Chase bursts with a remarkable, pulsating enthusiasm. Then, after -a time, turning a deaf ear to the voice of experience, and discovering -to her astonishment that things have not worked out as she expected, she -sulks, tosses all ideas of policy aside, and then turns impatiently and -impulsively to something that is in the way of a new adventure. Off she -goes on a new tack. Eagerly and rashly she grasps frantically at the -next idea or suggestion forthcoming from any one who is, at that moment, -in favor. So, she thinks, this time I have got it!... The pattern -repeats itself endlessly and expensively. - -It started thus, with her financing of the Mordkin Ballet, before the -days of Ballet Theatre. With the Mordkin Ballet, aside from financing -it, she danced; danced the roles of only the greatest _ballerinas_. This -pleasure she had. So far as operating a ballet company is concerned, she -still leaps about without a policy, and each time the result seems -unhappily to follow the same disappointing pattern. - -Above all, Lucia Chase has what amounts to sheer genius for taking the -wrong advice and for surrounding herself with, for the most part, -inexperienced, unqualified, and mediocre advisers. Her most successful -years were those when, by happy chance rather than by any design, the -organization was managed and directed by the able J. Alden Talbot, -informed gentleman of taste and business ability. It was during the -Talbot regime that Miss Chase had her smallest deficits and Ballet -Theatre attained its period of highest achievement. - -When left to her own devices, Miss Chase is, so far as policy is -concerned, uncertain, undetermined, irresolute, and meandering. The -future of Ballet Theatre as a serious institution in our cultural life -is questionable, in my opinion, because Miss Chase, after all these -years, has not yet learned how to conduct or discipline a ballet -company; has not learned that important policy decisions are not made -because of whims. Because of these things, the organization as it -stands, possesses no real and firm basis for sound artistic achievement, -progress, or permanence. There is no indication of personality, or -color, or any real authority in the company’s conduct. More and more -there are indications or intimations of some sort of middle-of-the-road -policy--if it really is policy and not a temporary whim; even so there -is no indication whatsoever of the destination towards which the vehicle -is bound. - -With lavish generosity, Lucia Chase has spent fantastic sums of money on -Ballet Theatre and on its predecessor, the Mordkin Ballet. Since Ballet -Theatre is a non-profit organization and corporation, a substantial part -of this money may be said to be the taxpayer’s money, since it is -tax-exempt. Since the ultimate aim of the organization has not been -attained, since it has not assumed aesthetic responsibility, or -respected vital tradition, or preserved significant masterpieces of -every style, period, and origin, as does an art museum, and as was -announced and avowed to be its intention; since it has not succeeded in -educating the masses for ballet; it must be borne in mind that the -remission of taxes in such cases is largely predicated upon the -educational facets of such an organization whose taxes are remitted. - -I would be the last person to deny that Miss Chase has made a -contribution to ballet in our time. To do so would be ridiculous. But I -do insist that, whatever good she has done, almost invariably she has -negated it and contradicted it by an impulsive capriciousness. - - - - -11. Indecisive Interlude: -De Basil’s Farewell and -A Pair of Classical Britons - - -With Ballet Theatre gone its own way, I was placed in a serious -predicament. According to a long established and necessary custom, -bookings throughout the country are made at least a season in advance. -This is imperative in order that theatres, halls, auditoriums may be -properly engaged and so that the local managers may arrange their -series, develop their promotional campaigns, sell their tickets, thus -reducing to as great an extent as possible the element of risk and -chance involved. - -Since my contract with Ballet Theatre had had one more year to run, the -transcontinental bookings for the Ballet Theatre company had been made -for the entire season. It was necessary for me to keep faith with the -local managers who had built their seasons around ballet and, since -local managers have faith both in me and in the quality of the ballet I -present, I was on a spot. The question was: what to do? - -Something had to be done to fulfil my obligations. I had no regrets -about the departure of Ballet Theatre, other than that personal wrench I -always feel at parting company with something to which I have given so -much of myself. The last weeks with Ballet Theatre added nothing but -trouble. There was a ludicrous contretemps in the nation’s capital. -Jascha Horenstein, for some reason known only to himself, put down his -baton before the beginning of the long coda at the end of _Swan Lake_, -and walked out of the pit. As he departed, he left both the dancers and -the National Symphony Orchestra players suspended in mid-air, with -another five minutes left for the climax of the ballet. As a -consequence, the performance ended in a debacle. - -Matters balletic were in a bad way. It is times such as these that -present me with a challenge. There is no easy solution; and frequently, -almost usually, such solutions as there are, are reached by trial and -error. This was no exception. - -I began the trial and error period by building up, as an experiment, the -Markova-Dolin company, with a group of dancers, including André Eglevsky -and soloists, together with a _corps de ballet_ largely composed of -Ballet Theatre personnel that had broken away because of dissatisfaction -of one sort or another. In addition to Markova, Dolin, and Eglevsky, the -company included Margaret Banks, a Sadler’s Wells trained dancer from -Vancouver, Roszika Sabo, Wallace Siebert, and others, with young John -Taras as choreographer and ballet-master. The reader who has come this -far will realize some of the problems involved in building up a -repertoire. Here we were, starting from scratch. - -The two basic works were a _Giselle_, staged by Dolin, with Markova in -her best role, and _Swan Lake_. In staging the second act of _Swan -Lake_, Dolin used a setting designed by the Marquessa de Cuevas for the -International Ballet. Dolin also mounted the last act of _The -Nutcracker_. John Taras staged a suite of dances from Tchaikowsy’s -_Eugene Onegin_; and the balance of the repertoire was made up from -various classical excerpts. - -Milwaukee, Chicago, and Detroit were selected as try-out towns in the -spring of 1946. The celestial stars that hung over the experiment cannot -be called benign. The well-worn adage that it never rains but it pours, -was hardly ever better instanced than in this case. It was the spring of -the nation-wide railway strike, and the dates of our performances -coincided with it. By grace of the calendar we managed to get the -company to Milwaukee, where the company’s first performances were given -at the old Pabst Theatre. By interurban street-car and trucks we got the -company to the Chicago Opera House. There the difficulties multiplied. -Owing to the firm restrictions placed upon the use of electricity in -public places, in order to conserve the dwindling coal supply, it was -impossible to light the Opera House auditorium or foyers, which were -swathed in gloom, broken only by faint spots of dull glow emanating from -a few oil lanterns. The current for the stage lighting was supplied from -a United States Coast Guard vessel, which we had, with great difficulty, -persuaded to move along the river side of the Opera House, to the -engine-room of which vessel we ran cables from the stage. The ship could -generate just enough “juice” for stage purposes only. That “just enough” -might have been precisely that in computed wattage; but it was direct -current. Our lighting equipment operated on alternating current, and, by -the time the “juice” was converted, the actual power was limited to the -point that, try as the technical staff did, the best we were able to -obtain was a sort of passable low visibility on the stage. - -To add to the general fun, the Coast Guard vessel broke loose from its -moorings, floated across the Chicago River, destroyed some pilasters of -the _Chicago Daily News_ and jammed the Randolph Street drawbridge of -the City of Chicago, adding to the general confusion, to say nothing of -the costs. - -When it came time for the company to move to Detroit, no trains were -running, and buses and trucks would not cross state lines. It took some -master-minding on the part of our staff to arrange to have the company, -baggage cars and all, attached to a freight train, which was carrying -permitted perishable fruits and vegetables. In Detroit, the slump had -set in. The feeling of depression engendered by the darkened buildings -and streets, the dimly-lighted theatres, the murk of stygian -restaurants, together with the fact that the Detroit engagement had to -be played at one of the “legitimate” theatres rather than at the Masonic -Temple which, for years, had been the local home for ballet, played -havoc with the engagement; people, bewildered by the situation, one -which was as darkness is to light, were discouraged and daunted. They -remained away from the theatre in droves and the losses were fantastic. - -Using the word in the best theatrical sense and tradition, it was a -catastrophe. Perhaps it was as well that it was; somehow I cannot -entirely reject the conviction that things more often than not work out -for the best, for as the company and the repertoire stood, it would not -fill the bill. Nor was there anything like sufficient time to build -either a company or a repertoire. - -The projected Markova-Dolin company was placed in mothballs. The -problems, so far as the ensuing season was concerned, remained critical. - -The Markova-Dolin combination was to emerge later in a different form. -For the present it marked time, while I pondered the situation, with no -solution in sight. - -At this crucial moment an old friend, Nicholas Koudriavtzeff, entered -the picture. An American citizen of long standing, by birth he was a -member of an old aristocratic Russian family. His manner, his life, his -thinking are Continental. A man of fine culture, he is an idealistic -business man of the theatre and concert worlds; a gentle, kind, able -person, with an irresistible penchant for getting himself involved, for -swimming in waters far beyond his depth, largely because of his -idealism, together with his warmheartedness and his gentleness. It is -this very gentleness, coupled with a certain softness, that makes it -almost impossible for him to say “no” to anyone. - -He is married to a former Diaghileff dancer and de Basil soloist, -Tatiana Lipkovska. They divide their homes between New York and Canada, -where he is one of the leading figures in Montreal’s musical-balletic -life, and where, on a gracious farm, he raises glorious flowers, fruits, -and vegetables for the Montreal market. His wife, in her ballet school, -passes on to aspiring pupils the sound tradition of the classical dance. -Koudriavtzeff had been mixed up in ballet, in one capacity or another, -for years. There was a time when he suffered from that contagious and -deplorable infliction: ballet gossip, in which he was a practiced -practitioner; but there are indications that he is well on his way to -recovery. He is a warm friend and a good colleague. - -Koudriavtzeff and I have something, I suspect, in common. Attracted and -attached to something early in life, a concept is formed, and we become -a part of that idea. From this springs a sort of congenital optimism, -and we are inclined to feel that, whatever the tribulations, all will -somehow work out successfully and to the happiness of all concerned. In -this respect, I put myself into the same category. I strongly suspect I -am infected with the same virus as Koudriavtzeff. - -One of my real pleasures is to linger over dinner at home. It is no -particular secret that I am something of a gourmet and I know of no -finer or more appropriate place to enjoy good food than at home. So, it -is with something of the sense of a rite that I try, as often as the -affairs of an active life permit, sometime between half-past six and -seven in the evening to have a quiet dinner at home with Mrs. Hurok. - -The telephone bell, that prime twentieth century annoyance, interrupted, -as it so often does, the evening’s peace. - -“Won’t they let you alone?” was Mrs. Hurok’s only comment. - -It was Koudriavtzeff. - -“Call me back in half an hour.” I said. - -He did. - -“I should like to talk with you, Mr. Hurok,” he said in the rather -breathless approach that is a Koudriavtzeff conversational -characteristic. - -Since he was already talking, I suggested he continue--over the -telephone. But no, this was not possible, he said. He must talk to me -privately; something very secret. Could he come to my home, there and -then? Was it a matter of business? I inquired. It was. I demurred. I had -had enough of business for one day. - -However, there was such urgency in Koudriavtzeff’s voice, after making -due allowance for an almost perpetual urgency with Koudriavtzeff, even -in discussing the weather, that I agreed. He must have telephoned from a -booth round the corner, for Koudriavtzeff arrived, breathless, almost as -soon as I had put down the instrument. - -We sat down over a glass of tea. For a few minutes the conversation -concerned itself with generalities. Since I did not feel especially -social, I brought the talk around to particularities. - -“Well, what can I do for you?” I inquired. - -The story came pouring out like water from a burst dam. It developed, as -I pieced it together, that Koudriavtzeff was trying to make certain -bookings for de Basil’s Original Ballet Russe on the way back from South -America. Although there were some bookings, he had not been able to -secure sufficient dates and, under the arrangement he had made with the -“Colonel,” Koudriavtzeff was obliged to deliver. That was not all. Not -only was he short with dates; he did not have the means with which to -make the necessary campaign, even if he had obtained the dates. - -I pondered the situation. - -“Is de Basil in South America?” I asked. - -“No,” replied Koudriavtzeff. “He is here in New York.” - -Somehow, I could not regard this as good news. - -I pondered the matter again. - -After all I had gone through with this man, I asked myself, why should I -continue to listen to Koudriavtzeff? If ever there was a time when I -should have said, firmly, unequivocally “to hell with ballet,” it was at -this moment. But I continued to listen. - -With one ear I was listening to the insistent refrain: “To hell with -ballet.” With the other, I was harking to my responsibilities to the -local managers, to my lease with the Metropolitan Opera House. - -Koudriavtzeff proceeded with his rapid-fire chatter. From it one -sentence came sharp and dear: - -“Will you please be so kind, Mr. Hurok? Will you, please, see de Basil?” - -It could have been that I was not thinking as clearly and objectively as -I should have been at that moment. - -I agreed. - -The next evening, de Basil, Koudriavtzeff, and I met. - -Mrs. Hurok sounded the warning. - -“I don’t object to your seeing him,” she said, “but you’re not going in -with him again?” - -The meetings were something I kept from the knowledge of my office for -several days. - -As I have pointed out before, de Basil was a Caucasian. The Caucasians -and the Georgians have several qualities in common, not the least of -which is the love of and desire for intrigue, coupled with infinite -patience, never-flagging energy, and nerves of steel. It was perfectly -possible for de Basil to sit for days and nights on end, occasionally -uttering a few words, silent for long, long periods, but waiting, -patiently waiting. It is these alleged virtues that make the Caucasians -the most efficient and successful members of those bodies whose job it -is to practice the delicate art of the third-degree: the O.G.P.U., the -N.K.V.D. - -I had agreed to meet de Basil, and now I was in for it. There was one -protracted meeting after another, with each seeming to merge, without -perceptible break, into the next. The “Colonel” had a “heart,” which he -coddled; he brought with him his hypochondriacal collection of “pills,” -some of which were for his “heart,” some for other uses. With their -help, he managed to keep wide awake but impassive through night after -night. Discussion, argument; argument, discussion. As the conferences -proceeded, de Basil reinforced his “pills” with his lawyers, this time -the omnipresent Lidji and Asa Sokoloff. - -No one could be more aware of the “Colonel’s” inherent avoidance of -honesty or any understandable code of ethics than I, yet he invariably -commenced every conversation with: “Now if you will only be sincere and -serious with me....” - -Always it was the other fellow who was insincere. - -Nearly all these meetings took place in the upper Fifth Avenue home of a -friend of de Basil’s, a former _Time_ magazine associate editor, where -he was a house-guest. I cannot imagine what sort of home life he and his -wife could have had during this period when, what with the long sessions -and the constant comings and goings, the place bore a stronger -resemblance to a committee room adjacent to an American political -convention than a quiet, conservative Fifth Avenue home. Not only was -the place crowded with antiques, for de Basil’s host was a “collector,” -but the “Colonel” had piled these pieces one on the top of another to -turn the place into a warehouse. It was during the after-war shortage of -food in Europe, whither the “Colonel” was repairing as soon as he could. - -Here, in his host’s home, the “Colonel” had opened his own package and -shipping department. Box upon box, crate upon crate of bulky foods: -mostly spaghetti. All sorts of foods: cost cheap, bulk large. - -This was the first time in my ballet career that I had written down a -repertoire on cases of spaghetti. As these meetings continued, and -took the toll of human patience and endurance, we were joined -by my loyal adjutant, Mae Frohman, who was served a sumptuous -dish of not particularly tasty but certainly very filling -Russo-Caucasian-Georgian-Bulgarian negotiations. - -It is not to be supposed that this period was brief. It went on for -nearly three weeks, day and night. - -One night progress was made; but before morning we were back where we -started. Miss Frohman begged me to call off the entire business, to get -out of it while the getting was good. The more she saw and heard, the -more certain she was that her intuition was right; this was something to -be given a wide berth. But I was in it now. There was no going back. - -Time, however, was running out. I had booked passage to fly to Europe. -The date approached, as dates have a way of doing, until we reached the -day before my scheduled departure. Mrs. Hurok remonstrated with me over -the whole business. - -“What good can come from this?” she protested. “Are you mad?” - -Perhaps I was. - -“What are you trying to do?” she went on. “Trying to kill yourself?” - -Perhaps I was. - -It was not a matter of trying; but it could be. - -While de Basil was working his way back from South America with his -little band, he managed to secure another engagement in Mexico City. It -was there that that interesting figure of the world of ballet and its -allied arts, the Marquis de Cuevas, saw the de Basil organization. The -Marquis, a colorful gentleman of taste and culture, is, perhaps, the -outstanding example we have today of the sincere and talented amateur in -and patron of the arts. He is a European-American, despite his South -American birth. He had a disastrous season of ballet in New York, in -1944, with his Ballet International, for which he bought a theatre, and -lost nigh on to a million dollars in a two-months’ season--which may, to -date, be the most expensive lesson in how not to make a ballet. Today -the Marquis’s company functions as a part of the European scene. During -his initial season in New York, he had created a reasonably substantial -repertoire, including four works of quality I felt could be added to the -de Basil repertoire in combination, in the event I succeeded in coming -to terms with the “Colonel.” These works were _Sebastian_, _The Mute -Wife_, _Constantia_, and _Pictures at an Exhibition_. - -After viewing the de Basil company in Mexico City, the Marquis had an -idea that it might be wise for him to join up with the “Colonel.” -Returning to New York, the Marquis came to me to discuss the matter. I -succeeded in dissuading him from investing and buying the worn-out -scenery, costumes, and properties, which were, to all intents and -purposes, valueless. - -The Marquis departed for France. As the protracted negotiations with de -Basil continued, I cabled the Marquis, informing him that I had parted -with Ballet Theatre, and that I was negotiating with de Basil. Pointing -out my obligations to the local managers, and to the Metropolitan Opera -House, I asked the Marquis if he would participate, or contribute a -certain amount of money, and add his repertoire to that of the -“Colonel.” - -The final de Basil conference before my scheduled departure for Europe -commenced early. The night wore on. We were again on the verge of -reaching an agreement. By two o’clock in the morning the possibility had -diminished and receded into the same vague, seemingly unattainable -distance where it had so long rested. Then, shortly after four o’clock, -the pieces suddenly all fell into place, with all of us, including Mae -Frohman, in a state of complete exhaustion, as the verbal agreement was -reached. The bland, imperturbable, expressionless de Basil was the sole -exception, at least to outward appearances. - -Since my Europe-bound plane was departing within a few hours, it was -necessary that all the voluminous documents be drawn up and signed -before my departure. The lawyers, Lidji, Sokoloff, and my own legal -adviser and friend, Elias Lieberman, worked on these as we sipped hot, -black coffee, for the millionth time. - -The sun was bright when we gathered round a table in the Fifth Avenue -apartment where de Basil was a guest, and affixed our signatures. - -It was six o’clock in the morning. - -At twelve o’clock my plane rose over La Guardia and headed for Paris. - -It was the first commercial plane to make the flight to Paris after the -War. Mrs. Hurok, Mae Frohman, and Mr. and Mrs. Artur Rubinstein were at -the field to wish me “bon voyage.” - -In Paris I met the Marquis and Marquessa de Cuevas, the latter a -gracious lady of charm and taste. Food was short in Paris, hard to find, -and of dubious quality. Somehow, the Marquessa had been able to secure a -chicken from her farm outside Paris, and we managed a dinner. I -explained the settlement I had made with de Basil to the Marquis, and -urged his cooperation joining de Basil as Artistic Director, hoping -that, as a result, something fine could be built, given time and -patience. Such an arrangement would also permit at least some of the -Marquis’s repertoire from deteriorating in the store-house, and bring -the works before a new and larger public. - -Carerras, the manager for the Marquis at the time, was flatly opposed to -de Cuevas cooperating in any way with the “Colonel,” but eventually de -Cuevas decided to do what, once again, proved to be the impossible, -viz., to collaborate with the Caucasian de Basil. - -This much having been settled, I went on to London, where I saw the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet at Covent Garden for the first time; shortly -afterwards I left for California, to spend a little time at my Beverly -Hills home which I had maintained during the war. - -On my arrival in California, there were messages from my office awaiting -me. They were disturbing. Already troubles were brewing. The de Basil -repertoire was in dubious condition. Something must be done, and at -once. Moreover, despite de Basil’s assurances, the repertoire was too -small in size and was inadequately rehearsed. I left for New York by the -first available plane. - -On my arrival in New York, I quickly made arrangements to send John -Taras, the young American who had been the choreographer and -ballet-master for the Markova-Dolin experiment, to South America to whip -the company into shape. With him went a group of American dancers to -augment the personnel. - -Meanwhile, as the days sped on, every conceivable difficulty arose over -getting the de Basil company and its repertoire out of South America. -There were financial troubles. As was so often the case, de Basil had no -money. But he did have debts and other liabilities that had to be -liquidated before the company could be permitted to move. One thing -piled on another. When these matters had been straightened out, the -climax came in the form of a general strike in Rio de Janeiro, with the -situation out of hand and shooting in the streets. This prevented the -company from embarking for New York; not only was it impossible for -passengers to board the ship, but neither scenery, properties, nor -luggage could be loaded. Further delay meant that they could not arrive -in New York in time for the mid-October opening at the Metropolitan -Opera House, which I had had engaged for months, and for which season -the advertising was in full swing, the promotional work done. - -Once again, fast action was necessary to save the situation. In New York -we had the de Cuevas repertoire, but no company. By long distance -telephone I got John Taras to leave Rio de Janeiro for New York by -plane. I engaged yet another group of artists here in New York, and -Taras, immediately upon his arrival, commenced rehearsals with this -third group on the de Cuevas repertoire, in order to have something in -readiness to fulfil my obligations in the event that the de Basil -company was unable to reach New York in time for the opening. It was, at -best, makeshift, but at least something would be ready. The season could -open on time, and faith would be kept. - -While these difficulties and problems were compounding, the “Colonel” -was far from the South American battlefield. He was safely in New York, -stirring up the already quite sufficiently troubled waters. - -I was more firmly convinced than ever before that to have two -closely-linked members of the same family in the same field of endeavor -is bad. Two singers in one family, I submit, is very bad. Two dancers in -one family is very, very bad. But when a manager or director of a ballet -company has a wife who is a dancer in his own company--that is the worst -of all. - -These profound observations are prompted by the marital complications -that provided the chief contentious bone of this period of stress. These -marital arrangements were two in number. De Basil’s first wife, who had -divorced him, had married the company’s choreographer, Vania Psota, the -creator of the late and unlamented _Slavonika_, of early Ballet Theatre -days, and both Psota and his wife were with the company, soon, I prayed, -to arrive in New York. De Basil, already in town, had married Olga -Morosova, one of the company’s artists. This was an additional -complication, for, although Morosova was only a soloist, upon her -marriage she had immediately been promoted to the role of the company’s -_prima ballerina_. All leading roles, de Basil insisted, must now be -danced by her. - -The arguments were almost continuous, and only a Caucasian could have -endured them, unscarred. The battle raged. - -To sum up, I should like to offer a word of caution. If you who read -these lines are a dancer, do not marry the manager. It cuts both ways: -if you are a manager, do not marry a dancer. If, by chance these lines -are read by one who has ambitions to become a ballet manager, do not -allow yourself any romantic connection with a dancer in the company. It -simply does not work, and it is not good for ballet, or for you. - -All of these continuing, persisting discussions served merely to speed -the days. Opening night was drawing perilously near, coming closer and -closer, while de Basil’s company and repertoire were still being held in -Rio de Janeiro by the general strike. The “Colonel” again needed money. -Unless the money he required was forthcoming, strike or no strike, the -company would not embark. Once again I was being held up, with the gun -at my back; on legal advice and out of sheer necessity, the money was -forthcoming. - -This type of blackmail, the demand for money under duress, was -threatening to become a habit in ballet, I felt. But, after all, if I -sought to allocate blame for the situation, there was no one to whom it -could be charged except myself. It was my own fault for having consented -to listen to the siren voice of Koudriavtzeff in the first place. No one -can make greater trouble for one, I believe, than one’s own self. I had -agreed to the whole unhappy business against the considered advice of -all those in whom I had confidence and faith. There was nothing to be -done but to see it through with as much grace as I could muster. I -determined, however, to take stock. This time I was certain. I was, at -last, satisfied that when this season finished, I was finished with -ballet. No more. Never again. - - * * * * * - -The de Basil crowd eventually arrived at a South Brooklyn pier, barely -in time, on a holiday afternoon before the Metropolitan opening. The -rush, the drive, the complicated business of clearing through customs -promised more headaches, more heartaches, and yet more unforeseen -expense. We now had two companies merged for the Metropolitan Opera -House engagement. In this respect we had been fortunate, for the de -Basil scenery and costumes were in a pitiable state of disrepair. Since -there was neither sufficient time nor money for their rehabilitation, we -provided both, and, meanwhile, had the advantage of the de Cuevas works. - -De Basil had been able to make but few additions to his repertoire -during the lean and long South American hegira. These were _Yara_ and -_Cain and Abel_. _Yara_ had been choreographed by Psota, to a score by -Francisco Mignone. It was a lengthy attempt to bring to the stage a -Brazilian legend. It had striking sets and costumes by Candido -Portinari, and little else. _Cain and Abel_ was a juicy tid-bit in which -David Lichine perpetrated a “treatment” of the Genesis tale to, of all -things, cuttings and snippets from Wagner’s _Die Götter-Dammerung_. It -was a silly business. - -The four works from the Marquis de Cuevas repertoire were given a wider -public, and helped a bad situation. _Sebastian_, with an excitingly -dramatic score by Gian-Carlo Menotti, his first for ballet, had been -staged by Edward Caton, in a setting by Oliver Smith. It made for a -striking piece of theatre. _The Mute Wife_ was a light but amusing -comedy, adapted by the American dancer-choreographer, Antonia Cobos, -from the familiar tale by Anatole France, _The Man Who Married a Dumb -Wife_, to Paganini melodies, principally his _Perpetual Motion_, -orchestrated by Vittorio Rieti. The third work, _Constantia_, was a -classical ballet by William Dollar, done to Chopin’s _Piano Concerto in -F Minor_, enlisting the services of Rosella Hightower, André Eglevsky, -and Yvonne Patterson. Its title, confusing to some, referred to Chopin’s -“Ideal Woman,” Constantia Gladowska, to whom the composer dedicated the -musical work. - -Thanks to Ballet Associates in America, there was one new work. It was -_Camille_, staged by John Taras, in quite unique settings by Cecil -Beaton, for Alicia Markova and Anton Dolin. It was a balletic attempt to -tell the familiar Dumas tale. In this case, the music, instead of being -out of Traviata by Verdi to use stud-book terminology, consisted of -Franz Schubert melodies, orchestrated by Vittorio Rieti. It was not the -success one hoped and, after seeing a later one by Tudor, to say nothing -of one by Dolin, I am more and more persuaded that _Camille_ belongs to -Dumas and Verdi, to Rachel and Sarah Bernhardt, not to ballet. There was -also an unimportant but fairly amusing little _Pas de Trois_, for -Markova, Dolin, and Eglevsky, set by Jerome Robbins to the _Minuet of -the Will o’ the Wisps_, and the _Dance of the Sylphs_, from Berlioz’ -_The Damnation of Faust_. It was a burlesque, highlighted by the use of -a bit of the _Rákoczy March_ as an overture, loud enough and big enough -to suggest that a ballet company of gargantuan proportions was to be -revealed by the rising curtain. - -The trans-continental tour compounded troubles and annoyances with heavy -financial losses. The Original Ballet Russe carried with it the heavy -liability of a legend to a vast new audience. This audience had heard of -the symphonic ballets; there were nostalgic tales told them by their -elders about the “baby ballerinas,” Toumanova, Baronova, Riabouchinska. -There were no symphonic ballets. The “baby ballerinas” had grown up and -were in other pastures. The repertoire and the interpretations revealed -the ravages of time. Perhaps the truth was that legends have an unhappy -trick of falling short of reality. - -While the long tour was in progress, the Marquis de Cuevas was making -arrangements with the Principality of Monaco for a season at Monte Carlo -with his own company. Immediately on getting wind of this, the “Colonel” -did his best to try to doublecross the Marquis. This time, the “Colonel” -did not succeed. For several seasons, the de Cuevas company, under the -title Grand Ballet de Monte Carlo, largely peopled with American -dancers, including Rosella Hightower, Marjorie Tallchief, Jocelyn -Vollmar, Ana Ricarda, and others, and under the choreographic direction -of John Taras, functioned there. When his Monte Carlo contract was at -an end, the name of the company was changed to the Grand Ballet du -Marquis de Cuevas. - -In 1951, the Marquis brought his company to New York for a season at the -Century Theatre. It was completely unsuccessful, and while the losses -were less than the initial American season, when it was called Ballet -International, since there were no production costs to be met, much less -a theatre to be bought, it was indeed an unfortunate occasion. The -debacle, I believe, was not entirely the fault of the Marquis, since the -entire season was mismanaged and mishandled from every point of view. - -The long, unhappy tour of the Original Ballet Russe dragged its weary -way to a close. Nothing I could imagine would be more welcome than that -desired event. When it was all over, I was happy to see them push off to -Europe. The losses I incurred were so considerable that it still is a -painful subject on which to ponder, even from this distance of time. -Suffice it to say they were very considerable. - -The Original Ballet Russe had been living on its capital far too long. -In London, in 1947, the “Colonel” made an attempt to reorganize his -company. Clutching at straws, the shrewd “Colonel,” I am sure, realized -that if he had any chance for survival, it would be on the basis of a -successful London season, scene of his first triumphs. For this purpose, -he formed a new company, since almost none of the original organization -survived. It was a failure. - -Nothing daunted, in 1951, he was preparing to try again. Death -intervened, and Vassily Grigorievitch Voskresensky, better known to the -world of ballet as Colonel W. de Basil, was gathered to his fathers. I -was shocked but not surprised when the news reached me. He had, I knew, -been living a devil-may-care existence. We had quarrelled, argued, -fought. We had, on the other hand, worked together for a common end and -with a common belief and purpose. - -He was truly an incredible man. - -I was enjoying a brief holiday at Evian when the news came to me, -through mutual friends, that de Basil was seriously ill. - -“I am going to Paris to see him and to do what I can,” I told them. - -The next day I was at lunch when there came a telephone call from Paris. -It was his one-time agent, Mme. Bouchenet, to tell me, to my great -regret, that de Basil had just died. - -We had had our continuing differences, but his had been a labor of -love; he had loved ballet passionately. He had been a truly magnificent -organizer. May he rest in peace. - -De Basil was, I suppose, technically an amateur in the arts; but he -managed to do a great service to ballet. By one means or another, he -formed a great ballet company. He had the vision to sponsor one of the -most revolutionary steps in ballet history since the “romantic -revolution”: Massine’s symphonic ballets. In the face of seemingly -insurmountable obstacles, he succeeded in keeping a company of warring -personalities together for years. On the financial side, still an -amateur, without the benefit of many guarantees from social celebrities -or industrial magnates, he managed to keep going. His methods were, to -say the least, unorthodox; he was amazing, fantastic, and, as I have -said, incredible. He was no Diaghileff. He was de Basil. Diaghileff was -a man of deep culture, vast erudition, an inspirer of all with whom he -came into contact. De Basil was a sharp business man, a shrewd -negotiator, an adroit manager. He was a personality. In the history of -ballet, I venture to suggest, he will be remembered as the man who was -the instrument by which and through which new life was instilled in the -art of the ballet at a time when it was in dire danger of becoming -moribund. Why and how he came to be that instrument is of little -importance. The important thing is that he _was_. - -At the time of de Basil’s death little remained save a memory. For four -seasons, at least, by reason of his instinct, his drive, his -collaborators, he presented to ballet something as close to perfection -as is possible to imagine. For that, all who genuinely love ballet -should be grateful. - - * * * * * - -Although I heaved a sigh of relief when the “Colonel” and his -ragtag-bobtail band clambered aboard the ship bound for Europe, there -were still serious problems to be considered. The uppermost questions -that troubled me were merely two parts of the same query: “Why should I -go on with this ballet business?” I asked myself. “Haven’t I done -enough?” - -Against any affirmative answer I could give myself, were arranged two -facts: one, the magnetic “pull” ballet exerted upon me; two, the -existence of a contract with the Metropolitan Opera House, which had to -be fulfilled. - -So it was that, in the autumn of 1947, that I gave a short season of -ballet there. It was not a season of great ballets, but of great -artists. The programmes centered about Alicia Markova, Anton Dolin, -André Eglevsky. - -From this emerged a dance-group company, compact, flexible, the -Markova-Dolin Company, which toured the country from coast to coast with -a considerable measure of success. This was not, of course, ballet in -the grand manner. It was chamber ballet; a dozen dancers, a small, -well-chosen group of artists, together with a small orchestra and -musical director. In addition to the two stars, the company included -Oleg Tupine, Bettina Rosay, Rozsika Sabo, Natalia Condon, Kirsten -Valbor, Wallace Siebert, Royes Fernandez, George Reich, with Robert -Zeller, young American conductor, protegé of Serge Koussevitsky and -Pierre Monteux, as Musical Director. - -The repertoire included three new works: _Fantasia_, a ballet to a -Schubert-Liszt score, with choreography by Bronislava Nijinska; _Henry -VIII_, a ballet by Rosella Hightower, to music of Rossini, arranged by -Robert Zeller, and costumes by the San Francisco designer, Russell -Hartley; _Lady of the Camellias_, another balletic version of the Dumas -tale, choreographed by Anton Dolin to portions of Verdi’s _La Traviata_, -arranged and orchestrated by Zeller; the Jerome Robbins _Pas de Trois_, -to the _Damnation of Faust_ excerpts, in costumes by the American John -Pratt; and two classical works, viz., _Famous Dances from Tchaikowsky’s -The Nutcracker_, staged jointly by Markova and Dolin, with costumes by -Alvin Colt; and _Suite de Danse_, a romantic group, including some of -_Les Sylphides_, in the Fokine choreography; a Johann Strauss _Polka_, -staged by Vincenzo Celli; _Pas Espagnole_, to music by Ravina, by Ana -Ricarda; _Vestris Solo_, to music by Rossini, choreographed by Celli; -and Dolin’s delicious _Pas de Quatre_. - -_Henry VIII_, Rosella Hightower’s first full work as a choreographer, -was no balletic masterpiece, but it provided Dolin with a part wherein, -as the portly, bearded, greatly married monarch of Britain, he was able -to dance and act in the great tradition of Red Coat, Devil of the -Ukraine, Bluebeard, Gil Blas, Tyl Eulenspiegel, Sganarelle, -Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford, and all the other picaresque heroes of -ballet, theatre, and literature. While Dolin, of course, confined -himself to the choreographer’s patterning, I should not have been -surprised if he had resorted to falling over sofas, squirting -Elizabethan soda water syphons in the face of Katherine Parr, or being -carried off to the royal bedchamber in a complete state of -intoxication. - -While such an organization is far from ideal for the presentation of -spectacular ballet, which must have a large company, eye-filling stage -settings, and all the appurtenances of the modern theatre, since ballet -is essentially a theatre art, it nevertheless permitted us to take a -form of ballet to cities and towns where, because of physical -conditions, the full panoply of ballet at its most glamorous cannot be -given. - -The highlight of this tour occurred at the War Memorial Opera House, in -San Francisco, where, because of an unusual combination of -circumstances, an extremely interesting collaboration was made possible. -The San Francisco Civic Ballet, an organization that promised much in -the way of a civic supported ballet company of national proportions, had -just been formed, and with the cooperation of the San Francisco Art -Commission, and with the full San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, was -undertaking its first season. At its invitation, it was possible for us -to combine its first productions with those of the Markova-Dolin -company, and, in addition to the San Francisco Civic Ballet creations, a -splendid production of _Giselle_ was made, staged by Dolin, with -Markova, according to all reports, including that of the informed -critic, Alfred Frankenstein, giving one of the most remarkable -interpretations of her long career in the title role. This tribute is -the more remarkable, since _Giselle_ is one of Frankenstein’s “blind -spots” in ballet. No critic is entirely free from bias or prejudice, and -since even I admit that--countless examples to the contrary -notwithstanding--the critic is also a human being, why should he be -utterly free from those very human qualities or defects, as the case may -be? - -The artists of the Markova-Dolin company supplemented the San Francisco -company, with the local company supplying the production, the two groups -merging for substantial joint rehearsal. I have said the San Francisco -Civic Ballet promised much. It is to be regretted that means could not -be forthcoming to insure its permanence. Its closing was the result of -the lack of that most vital element, proper subsidy. These things shock -me. - -The Markova-Dolin company was no more the ultimate answer to my balletic -problem than was the Original Ballet Russe. It was, however, something -more than a satisfactory stop-gap; it was also a very pleasant -association. - -Markova and Dolin are a quite remarkable pair. For years their stars -were congruent. Until recently there were indications that they had -become one, a fixed constellation, supreme, serene, sparkling. Those -gods in whose hands lie the celestial disposition have seen fit to shift -their orbits so that now each goes his or her separate course. I, for -one, cannot other than express my personal regret that this is so. One -complemented the other. I would go so far as to say that one benefited -the other. Both as individual artists and in partnership, the -distinguished pair of Britons are an ornament to their art and to their -native land. - - -_ALICIA MARKOVA_ - -Alicia Markova, _née_ Lilian Alicia Marks, was born in London, 1st -December, 1910. Her life has been celebrated in perhaps as many volumes -and articles as any other _ballerina_, if for no other reason than that -the English seem to burst into print about ballet and to encase their -words between solid covers more extensively than any other people I -know, not excluding the French. It is almost a case of scratch an -Englishman and you will find a ballet author. Because of this extensive -bibliography, the details of Markova’s career need not concern me here, -save to establish the highlights in a public life that has been -extraordinarily successful. - -When Markova arrived in this country to join the Massine Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, she already had behind her a high position in British -ballet; yet she was, in a sense, shy and naive. Her father had died when -Alicia was thirteen. There were three other sisters, and an Irish -mother, who had adopted orthodox Judaism on her marriage to Alicia’s -father, all in need of support. Alicia became the head of and -bread-winner for the family. The mother worked hard at the business of -being a mother, but kept away from the theatre’s back-stage. The story -of the family life of the mother and the four daughters sounds like a -Louisa M. Alcott novel, with theatre innovations and variations. - -Before she became a pupil at the Chelsea studio of Seraphina Astafieva, -late of the Imperial and Diaghileff Ballets, little Alicia had been a -principal in a London Christmas pantomime and had already been labeled -“the miniature Pavlova.” It was in this studio that her path crossed -that of one Sydney Francis Patrick Chippendall Healey-Kay, soon to have -his name truncated and changed to Anton Dolin by Serge Diaghileff. It -was Dolin who brought Alicia Marks to Diaghileff’s attention, not, -however, without some difficulty. Dolin’s conversations with Diaghileff -about “the miniature Pavlova” brought only disgust from the great -founder of modern ballet. The pretentiousness and presumptuousness of -such a title roused only repugnance in the great man. - -Eventually, Dolin succeeded in bringing Diaghileff to a party at the -King’s Road studio of Astafieva, where little Miss Marks, at fourteen, -danced. As a result, Diaghileff changed Marks to Markova, dropped the -Lilian, and took her, with governess, into his company, detailing one of -his current soloists, Ninette de Valois by name, to keep a weather-eye -out for the child. Markova was on her way rapidly up the ladder, with -two Balanchine creations under her _pointes_, _The Song of the -Nightingale_ and _La Chatte_, when Diaghileff died. - -This meant a complete change of focus for Markova, in 1929. She earned a -living for herself and her family for a time dancing in the English -music halls, dancing for Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club and the Camargo -Society for buttons. After two years at Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club, -where Frederick Ashton took her in hand, as coach and teacher, adviser, -and mentor extraordinary, she became the leading _ballerina_ of the -Vic-Wells Ballet, the predecessor of Sadler’s Wells, where, under the -overall guidance of Ashton and de Valois, she danced the first English -_Giselle_, the full-length _Swan Lake_, and _The Nutcracker_. Dolin was -a guest star of the Vic-Wells in those days; their stellar paths again -intertwined as they had at Astafieva’s studio, and in the Diaghileff -Ballet. - -In the fall of 1935, Dolin and Markova formed the Markova-Dolin Ballet, -with a full repertoire of classical works, playing London and touring -throughout Great Britain. - -Markova, if she is honest, and I have no reason to believe she is not, -should be the first to admit her profound debt to three persons in -ballet: Anton Dolin, who has projected her, protected her, and -occasionally pestered her; Frederick Ashton and Marie Rambert who, -jointly and severally, encouraged, advised, and guided her. - -In 1938, I was instrumental in having Markova join the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, where she competed with Danilova, Toumanova, and Slavenska. -Her London triumph in our season at Drury Lane was not entirely -unexpected. After all, she was dancing on her home stage. Her -performance in _Giselle_, on 12th October, 1938, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, made history. - -There was an element in the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo direction, of -which Leonide Massine was not one, that was not at all pleased with the -idea of having Markova with the company. Despite her great London -success, Alicia decided she would be wise not to come to America. - -Alicia and her mother, I remember, came to the Savoy to see me about -this. Mrs. Hurok and I urged her to reconsider her decision. She was -determined to resign from the company. She did not feel “at home” in the -organization. Although “Freddy” Franklin, who had been a member of the -Markova-Dolin Company, had joined the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, -Alicia felt alone, and she would be without Anton Dolin, and would miss -her family. - -Mrs. Hurok and I finally succeeded in dissuading her from her avowed -intention, and in convincing her that a great future for her lay in the -United States. - -From the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo she came to Ballet Theatre, where, -under my management, she co-starred with Dolin. Her roles with that -company as guest star which I arranged and paid for, together with -almost one-half of her salary at other times, for Lucia Chase did not -take kindly to Alicia Markova as a member of Ballet Theatre, and the -American tour of the Markova-Dolin company, all of these I have dealt -with at length. - -During one of the seasons of the London Festival Ballet, which was -organized by Dolin for the two of them, the team came to a parting of -the ways. Like so many associations of this kind, the break could have -been the result of any one or more of a combination of causes. One who -is sincerely interested in both of them, expresses the hope that it may -be only a passing difference. Yet, pursuing a course I follow in the -domestic lives of my personal friends, I apply it to the artistic lives -of these two, and leave it to them to work out their joint and several -destinies. There are limits beyond which even a loyal and fond manager -may not go with impunity. - -One of the greatest _ballerinas_ of our own or any other time, I cannot -say that Markova’s triumphs have not altered her. To be sure, although -she still has a manner that is sometimes reserved, outwardly timid, I -nevertheless happen to know that behind it all lurks a determined, -stubborn, and sometimes downright blind willfulness, coupled with a good -deal of unreasonability. It was not for nothing that she earned from -Leonide Massine the sobriquet of “Chinese Torture”--as Massine used to -put it, “like small drops of water constantly falling on the head.” - -As a dancer, Markova is in the straight and direct classical line, as -Michel Fokine once observed to me, while watching her Giselle. - -Bearing these things in mind, including the fact that the gods have been -less than generous to her in matters of face and figure, I am deeply -moved by her expertness, her ethereality, her precision, her simplicity. -Yet, on the other hand, I can only deplore the stylization and mannered -quality she brings to her latter-day performances. When she is at her -best, Markova has something above and beyond technique: a certain -evanescent, purely luminous detachment. All these things reinforce my -conviction that Markova should confine herself to the great classical -interpretations, and recognize her own physical limitations, even within -this field. Her Giselle is in a class by itself. She has made the role -her own. Personally, however, I do not find she gives me the same -satisfaction as the Swan Queen, nor in Fokine’s _Les Sylphides_. To my -way of thinking, her Swan Queen, while technically precise, lacks both -that deep plumbing of the emotions and the grand, regal manner that the -role requires. Her Prelude in _Sylphides_ is spoiled, in my opinion, by -excessive mannerisms. - -It is in _Giselle_ and _The Nutcracker_ that Markova can bring joy and -pleasure to an immense public, that joy the public always receives, -whether they know the intricate details of ballet or not, by seeing a -great classical _ballerina_ at her best. One of Markova’s best -characterizations was that of Taglioni in Dolin’s _Pas de Quatre_, a -delightful cameo, yet today, or, at least, the last time I saw it, it, -like her Prelude in _Sylphides_, suffered from an accretion of manner, -until it bordered on the grotesque. - -One of the qualities Markova has in common with Pavlova, some of whose -qualities she has, is her agelessness. As I said of Pavlova, “genius -knows no age,” so might it be said of Diaghileff’s “little English girl” -now grown up. The great Russian painter and co-founder of the Diaghileff -Ballet, Alexandre Benois, the most noted designer of _Giselle_, once -asserted that Pavlova’s ability to transmute rather ordinary and -sometimes banal material into unalloyed gold was a theatrical miracle. -It is in roles for which she is peculiarly and individually almost -uniquely fitted that Markova, too, is able to work a theatrical miracle. - -Under the proper direction, under which she will not be left to her own -devices, and will not be required to make her own decisions, but will -have them made for her by a wise and intelligent director conscious of -her limitations, Markova will be able the better to fulfil her destiny. -It is to that desired end that I have been deeply interested in the fact -that she had secured an invitation from the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, at -the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, for her to become, once again, a -member of the company, with certain freedoms of action outside the -company when her services are not required. The initial step has been -taken. It is in such a setting that she belongs. - -I hope she will continue in this setting. - -Always I have been her devoted friend from the beginning of her American -successes, and shall continue to be. - -It is _ballerinas_ of the type of Alicia Markova who help make ballet -the great art it is. There are all too few of them. - -Often I have told Anton Dolin that the two of them, Markova and Dolin, -individually and collectively, have been of immeasurable service and -have done great honor to ballet both in England and throughout the -world. - - -_ANTON DOLIN_ - -The erstwhile Sydney Patrick Chippendall Healey-Kay, metamorphosed into -Anton Dolin whose star has so often paralleled and traversed that of -Markova, was born at Slinfold, Sussex, 20th July, 1904. A principal -dancer of the Diaghileff Ballet at an early age, he was unique as the -only non-Russian _premier danseur_ ever to achieve that position. - -Leaving Diaghileff in 1926, he organized the Nemtchinova-Dolin Ballet, -with which they toured England and Europe. Alternating ballet with the -dramatic and musical theatre, he turned up in New York in Lew Leslie’s -unhappy _International Revue_, along with Gertrude Lawrence, Harry -Richman, and the unforgettable Argentinita. On his return to London, -Dolin became the first guest-star of the Vic-Wells Ballet before it -exchanged the Vic for Sadler’s. - -In 1935, with the valued help of the late Mrs. Laura Henderson, he was -indefatigable in the formation of the Markova-Dolin Ballet, one of the -results of which was the laying of the foundation stones of ballet’s -popularity in Great Britain. A period with the de Basil company in -Australia was followed by his extended American sojourn, with Ballet -Theatre, the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, as guest artist, _The Seven -Lively Arts_, the Original Ballet Russe, and again under my management -with the Markova-Dolin company. - -Without making too detailed a research, I should say that the Dolin -literature is nearly as extensive as that about Markova, making due -allowance for the fact that the glamorous _ballerina_ always lends -herself to the printed page more attractively than her male _vis-a-vis_. -However, Dolin, often as busy with his pen as with his feet, has added -four volumes of his own authorship to the list. _Divertissement_, -published in 1931, and _Ballet-Go-Round_, published in 1938, were -sprightly volumes of autobiographical reminiscence and highly personal -commentary and observation. There has also been a slender volume on the -art of partnering and, more recently, a biographical study of Markova -entitled _Alicia Markova: Her Life and Art_. - -My acquaintance and friendship with Dolin dates back to the Diaghileff -season of 1925. It is an acquaintance and friendship I value. There is -an old bromide to the effect that dancers’ brains are in their legs. As -in all generalizations of this sort, it contains something more than a -grain of truth. Dolin is one of the shining exceptions to this role. -Shrewd, cultured, with a fine background, he is the possessor of a -poised manner, and something else, which is, I regret to say, rare in -the dancer: a concern for ethics. - -There is a weird opinion held in many parts of this country and on the -continent of Europe, to the effect that the Englishman is a dull and -humorless sort of fellow. This stupid charge is quite beyond the -understanding of any one who has thought twice about the matter. I have -had the pleasure and privilege of knowing England and the English for a -great many years and, as a consequence, I venture to assume the pleasing -privilege of informing a deluded world that, whatever else there may or -may not be in England, there is more fun and laughter to the square acre -than there is to the square mile of any other known quarter. My -observation has been that even if an Englishman does achieve a gravity -alien to the common spirit about him, he is not able to keep it up for -long. Dolin is the possessor of a brilliant sense of humour and much -wit, both often biting; but he has a quality which invites visitations -of the twin spirits of high and low comedy. - -A firm believer in the classical ballet, in Russian ballet, if you will, -Dolin, like his kinsmen in British ballet, gets about his business with, -on the whole, a minimum of fuss. Socially, and I speak from a profound -experience and a personal knowledge drawn from my own Russian roots, the -Russians are unlike any other European people, having a large measure of -the Asiatic disregard for the meaning and use of the clock, the watch, -the sun-dial, or even the primitive hourglass. Slow movement and time -without limit for reflection and conversation are vital to them, and -unless they can pass a substantial portion of the day in discussions, -they become ill at ease and unhappy. But, although deliberate enough in -most things, they have a way of blazing out almost volcanically if -annoyed or affronted or thwarted. In this latter respect only, the -English-Irish Anton Dolin may be said to be Russian. - -When Dolin’s dancing days are finished, there will always be a job for -“Pat” as an actor--at times, to be sure, with a touch of ham, but always -theatrically effective. He is one of the few dancers who could ever be -at home on the speaking stage. - -In the early founding days of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, I was -very anxious that he join Massine as one of the leading figures of the -company. Dolin shared my desire, and was eager to become a member, but -there did not appear to be any room for him; and, moreover, with Lifar -and Massine in the company, matters were difficult in the extreme, and -plagued by the winds of complexity. - -Dolin’s lovely mother, to whom he is devoted, lived with him in New York -during the period of his residence here. Now that he is back in England, -at the head of his own company, the London Festival Ballet, she is with -him there. It was she, a shrewd pilot of his career, who begged me to -take “Pat” under my wing. A gracious, generous lady, I am as fond of her -as I am of “Pat.” When he was offered a leading dancing and -choreographic post at the inception of Ballet Theatre, he sought my -advice. I was instrumental in his joining the company; he helped me to -take over the management of the company later on. - -His “Russianness” that I have mentioned, releases itself in devastating -flares and flashes of “temperament.” These outbursts express themselves -very often in rapid-fire iteration of a single phrase: “I shan’t dance! -I shan’t dance! I shan’t dance!” Yet I always know that, when the time -comes for his appearance, “Pat” will be on hand. Neither illness nor -accident prevents him from doing his job. There was an occasion on tour, -in the far north and in the midst of an icy blizzard, when he insisted -on dancing with a fever of one hundred three degrees. He may not have -danced with perfection, but he danced. - -Today, and in the past as well, there are and have been some who have -not cared for his dancing. Certain sections of the press have the habit -of developing a pronouncedly captious tone in dealing with Dolin the -dancer. I would remind those persons of the perfectly amazing theatrical -sense Dolin always exhibits. I would remind them that, in my opinion -and in the opinion of others more finely attuned to the niceties of the -classical dance, Dolin is one of the finest supporting partners it is -possible for a _ballerina_ to have. Markova is never shown to her best -advantage with any other male dancer than Anton Dolin. My opinion, on -which I make no concessions to any one, is that Dolin is one of the -finest Albrechts in the world today. Without Dolin, _Giselle_ remains -but half a ballet. - -As a _re_-creator, he has few peers and no superiors. I can think of no -one better qualified to recreate a masterpiece of another era, with -regard to the creator’s true intent and meaning, nor do I know of any -choreographer who has a greater feeling, a finer sense, or a more humble -respect for “period and tradition.” - -As a dancer, there are still roles which require a minimum of dancing -and a maximum of acting. These roles are preeminently Dolin’s, and in -these he cannot be equaled. - -As for Anton Dolin, the person, as opposed to Anton Dolin, the artist, -he is that rare bird in ballet: a loyal friend, blessedly free from that -besetting balletic sin--envy; generous, kindly, human, always helpful, -ever the good comrade. Would that dance had more men of his character, -his liberality, his broadmindedness, his ever-present readiness to be of -service to his colleagues. - -Although “Pat” is not above certain meannesses, certain capriciousness, -he has an uncanny gift of penetrating to the heart of a matter, and his -ability to hit the nail on the very centre of the head often gains for -him the advantage over people who have the reputation of being experts -in their particular callings. - -On the very top of all is his ability to open the charm tap at will. On -occasion, I have been of a mind to choke him, so annoyed have I been at -him. We have parted in a cloud of aggravation and exacerbation. Yet, on -meeting him an hour later, there was only an Irish smile with twinkling -eyes, all radiating good will and genuine affection. - -This is the Anton Dolin I know, the Dolin I like best. - -As these lines are written, all concerned are working on a budget to -determine if it is not possible to bring Dolin and his company to -America for a visit. It is my hope that satisfactory arrangements can be -made, for it would give me great pleasure to present “Pat” at the head -of his fine organization. I can only say to Dolin that if we succeed in -completing mutually agreeable conditions: “What a job we will do for -you!” - - - - -12. Ballet Climax-- -Sadler’s Wells And After.... - - -Sadler’s Wells--a name with which to conjure--had been a part of my -balletic consciousness for a long time. I had observed its early -beginnings, its growth from the Old Vic to Sadler’s Wells to the Royal -Opera House, Covent Garden, with the detached interest of a ballet lover -from another land. I had read about it, heard about it from many people, -but I had not had any first hand experience of it since the Covent -Garden Opera Trust had invited the Sadler’s Wells Ballet to move to -Covent Garden from their famous ballet center, Sadler’s Wells. This they -did, early in 1946, leaving behind yet another company called the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. - -I arrived in London in April, 1946, at a time when I was very definitely -under the impression that I would give up any active participation in -ballet in any other form than as an interested member of the audience. - -The London to which I returned was, in a sense, a strange London--a -London just after the war, a city devastated by bombs, a city that had -suffered grave wounds both physical and spiritual, a city of austerity. - -It was also a London wherein I found, wherever I went, a people whose -spirits were, nevertheless, high; human beings whose chins were up. The -typical Cockney taxi-driver who brought me from Waterloo to my long-time -headquarters, the Savoy, summed it all up on my arrival, when he said: -“We’ll come out of this orlrite. We weren’t born in the good old English -climate for nothin’. It’s all a bit of a disappointment; but we’re used -to disappointments, we are. Why when ah was a kid as we ’ad a nice -little picnic all arranged for Saturday afternoon, as sure as fate it -rained and the bleedin’ picnic was put orf again.... We’re goin’ to ’ave -our picnic one day; this ’ere picnic’s just been put orf, that’s -all....” - -As the porters were disposing of my luggage, the genial commissionaire -at the Savoy, Joe Hanson, added his bit to the general optimism. After -greeting me, he asked me if I had heard about the shipwreck in the -Thames, opposite the Savoy. I had not, and wondered how I had missed the -news of such a catastrophe. - -“Well, it was like this, guv’nor,” he said. “Churchill, Eden, Atlee and -Ernie Bevin went out on the river in a small boat to look the place -over. Just as they were a-passin’ the ’otel ’ere, a sudden squall blew -up and the boat was capsized.” - -He paused and blew his nose vociferously into a capacious kerchief. “Who -do you think was saved?” - -“Churchill?” I enquired. - -He shook his head in the negative. - -“Eden?” - -He shook his head. - -“Atlee?” - -Again he shook his head. - -“Bevin?” - -Once more the negative. - -“No one saved?” I could hardly believe my ears. - -“Ah, there’s where you’re wrong, sir.... _England_ was saved!” - -The commissionaire’s big frame shook with prideful laughter. - -I freshened myself in my room and went down to my favorite haunt, my -London H. Q., as I like to call it, the Savoy Grill, that gathering -place of the theatrical, musical, literary, and balletic worlds of -London. One of the Savoy Grill’s chief fixtures, and for me one of its -most potent attractions, was the always intriguing buffet, with my -favorite Scottish salmon. This time the buffet, while putting up a brave -decorative front, was a little disappointing and, to tell the truth, a -shade depressing. - -But a glance at the entertainment advertisements in _The Times_ (the -“Thunderer,” I noted, was now a four-page sheet) showed me that the -entertainment world was in full swing, and there was excitement in the -air. - -I dined alone in the Grill, then returned to my room and changed to -black tie and all, for it was to be a festive evening, and walked the -short distance between the Savoy Hotel and the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden. I was going to the ballet in a completely non-professional -capacity, as a member of the audience, going for the sheer fun of going, -with nary a balletic problem on my mind. - -I was to be the guest of David Webster, the Administrator of Covent -Garden, who met me at the door and, after a brief chat, escorted me to -my seat. My eyes traveled around the famous and historic Opera House, -only recently saved from the ignominy of becoming a public dance hall. -Here it was, shining and dignified in fresh paint, in damask, and in the -new warm red plush _fauteuils_; poor though Britain was, the house had -just been remodelled, redecorated, reseated, with a new and most -attractive “crush bar” installed. - -The depression I had felt earlier in the day vanished completely. Now -that evening had come, there was a different aspect, a changed -atmosphere. I looked at the audience that made up the sold-out house. -From the top to the bottom of the great old Opera House they were a -happy, relaxed, anticipatory people, ready to be entertained and -stimulated. In the stalls, the audience was well-dressed and some of the -evening frocks were, I felt, of marked splendor. But the less expensive -portions of the house were filled, too, and I remembered something that -great director, Ninette de Valois, who had made all this possible, had -said way back in 1937: “The gallery, the pit [American readers should -understand that the “pit” in the British theatre is usually that part of -the house behind the “stalls” or orchestra seats, and is not, as in the -States, the orchestra pit where the musicians are placed] and the -amphitheatre are the basis and backbone of the people s theatre.... That -they are the most loyal supporters will be maintained with deep -appreciation by those who control the future of the ballet.” - -There was, as I have said, an anticipatory atmosphere on the part of the -audience, as if the temper of the people had become graver, simpler, and -more concentrated; as if, during the war, when the opportunities for -recreation and amusement were more restricted, transport more limited, -the intelligence craved and sought those antidotes to a troubled -consciousness of which ballet and its allied arts are the most potent. - -While I relaxed and waited for the rising curtain with that same -anticipatory glow that I always feel, yet, somehow, intensified tonight, -I reflected, too, on the miracle that had been wrought. I remembered -David Webster had told me how, only the year before, the company was -preparing for a good-will tour to South America, and how the sudden end -of the war had made that trip impracticable and unnecessary. It had -become more urgent to have the company at home. Negotiations had been -initiated between the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, the British Arts Council, -and Boosey and Hawkes, who had taken over the Covent Garden lease, for -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet to make its headquarters at Covent Garden, -where it would be presented by the Covent Carden Opera Trust. Having -been turned into a cheap dance hall before the war, Covent Garden’s -restoration as a theatre devoted to the finest in opera and ballet -required very careful planning. - -All of this whetted my appetite. My eyes traveled to the Royal Box, to -the Royal Crest on the great curtains, to the be-wigged footmen.... -Slowly the lights came down to a dull glow, went out. A sound of -applause greeted the entry into the orchestra pit of the conductor, the -greatly talented musical director of the Sadler’s Wells organization, -Constant Lambert. In a moment, the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, was -filled with the magnificent sound of the overture to Tchaikowsky’s _The -Sleeping Beauty_, played as only Lambert could play it. - -Then the curtain rose, revealing Oliver Messel’s perfectly wonderful -setting for the first act of this magnificent full-length ballet. Over -all, about all, was the great music of Tchaikowsky. My eyes, my ears, my -heart were being filled to overflowing. - -The biggest moment of all came with the entrance of Margot Fonteyn as -the Princess. I was overwhelmed by her entire performance; but I think -it was her first entrance that made the greatest impact on me, with the -fresh youthfulness of the young Princess, the radiant gaiety of all the -fairy tale heroines of the world’s literature compressed into one. - -I was so enchanted as I followed the stage and the music that I forgot -all else but the miraculous unfolding of this Perrault-Tchaikowsky fairy -story. - -Here, at last, was great ballet. The art of pantomime, so long dormant -in ballet in America, had been restored in all its clarity and -simplicity of meaning. The high quality of the dancing by the -principals, soloists, and _corps de ballet_, the settings, the costumes, -the lighting, all literally transported me to another world. I knew -then, in a great revelation, that great ballet was here to stay. - -“This is Ballet!” I said, almost half aloud. - -After the performance, back at the Savoy Grill once more, at supper I -met, once again, Ninette de Valois, whose taste and drive and -determination and abilities have made Sadler’s Wells the magnificent -institution it is. - -“Madame,” I said to her, “I think you’re ready to go to the States.” - -“Are we?” - -“Yes,” I replied, “you are ready.” - -The supper was gay and charming and animated. I was filled with -enthusiasm and was a long time falling asleep that night. - -After that evening, there was no longer any attitude of “to hell with -ballet” on my part. Ballet, I realized, with a fresh conviction -solidifying the revelation I had had the night before, was here to stay. -“To hell with ballet” had given way to “three cheers for ballet!” - -After breakfast, the next morning, I telephoned David Webster to invite -him to luncheon so that I might discuss details of the proposed American -venture with him. During the course of the luncheon we went into all the -major points and problems. Webster, I found, shared my enthusiasm for -the idea and agreed in principle. - -But, in accordance with the traditionally British manner, the thought -and care and consideration that is given to every phase and every -department, every suggestion, every idea, such matters do not move as -swiftly as they do in the States. Before I started out for my usual -London “constitutional” backwards and forwards across Waterloo Bridge, -from where one looks up the Thames towards the Houses of Parliament and -Big Ben, mother of all our freedoms, I sent flowers to Margot Fonteyn -with a note of appreciation for her magnificent performance of the night -before and for the great pleasure she had given me. - -There followed extended discussions with Ninette de Valois, the Director -of whom, perhaps, the outstanding characteristic is that her outlook is -such that her greatest ambition is to see the Sadler’s Wells Ballet -become such an institution in its own right that, as she puts it, “no -one will know the name of the director.” However, before any decisions -could be reached, it became necessary for me to get home. So, with the -whole business still very much up in the air, I returned to New York. - -No sooner was I back in my office than there came an invitation from -Mayor William O’Dwyer and Grover Whalen for me to take over the -direction of the dance activities for the Festival for the One Hundred -Fiftieth Anniversary Celebration of the City of New York. I accepted the -honor in the hope that I might be able to organize a completely -international and representative Dance Festival, wherein the leading -exponents of ballet and other forms of dance would have an opportunity -to demonstrate their varied repertoires and techniques. To that end, I -sent invitations in the name of the City of New York to all the leading -dance organizations in the world, seeking their participation in the -Festival. The response was unanimously immediate and enthusiastic; but, -unfortunately, many of the organizations, possessing interesting -repertoires and styles, were not in a position to undertake the costs of -travel from far distant points, together with the heavy expenses for the -transportation of scenery, equipment, and costumes. Among these was the -newly-organized San Francisco Civic Ballet. - -The Sadler’s Wells organization accepted the invitation in principle, as -did the Paris Opera Ballet, through its director, Monsieur Georges -Hirsch. Ram Gopal, brilliant exponent of the dance of India, accepted -through his manager Julian Braunsweg; and, in this case, I was able to -assist him in his financial problems, by bringing him at my own expense. -Representing our native American dance were Doris Humphrey and Charles -Weidman, together with their company. I happen to feel this group is one -of the most representative of all our native practitioners of the “free” -dance, in works that often come to grips with the problems and conflicts -of life, and which eschew, at least for the time, pure abstraction. Most -notable of these works, works in this form, is their trilogy: _New -Dance_--_Theatre Piece_--_With My Red Fires_ American dance groups were -invited but for one reason or another were not able to accept. - -As preparations for the Festival moved ahead, David Webster arrived from -London to investigate the physical possibilities for the participation -of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet as the national ballet of Great Britain. - -The logical place for a Dance Festival of such proportions and such -significance, and one of such avowedly international and civic nature, -would have been the Metropolitan Opera House. Unfortunately, the -Metropolitan had commitments with another ballet company. My friend and -colleague, Edward Johnson, the then General Manager of the Metropolitan -Opera Company, regretted the situation and did everything in his power -to remedy the position and free our first lyric theatre for such an -important civic event. However, the other dance organization insisted on -its contractual rights and refused to give way, or to divide the time in -any way. - -The only other place left, therefore, was the New York City Center, in -West Fifty-fifth Street. Webster made a thorough inspection of this -former Masonic Temple from front to back, but found the place entirely -inadequate, with a stage and an orchestra pit infinitely too small, and -the theatre itself quite unsatisfactory for a company the size of the -Covent Garden organization and productions. As a matter of fact, it -would be hard to find a less satisfactory theatre for ballet production. - -As Webster and I went over the premises together, I sensed his feeling -about the building, which I shared. Nevertheless, I tried to hide my -disappointment when, at last, he turned to me and said: “It’s no go. We -can’t play here. Let us postpone the visit till we can come to be seen -on your only appropriate stage, the Metropolitan.” - -We had had preliminary meetings with the British Consul General and his -staff; plans and promotion were rapidly crystallizing, and my -disappointment was none the less keen simply because I knew the reasons -for the postponement were sound, and that it could not be otherwise. - -The Dance Festival itself, without Sadler’s Wells, had its successes and -left a mark on the local dance scene. The City Center was no more -satisfactory, I am afraid, for the Ballet of the Opera of Paris, -presented by the French National Lyric Theatre, under the auspices of -the Cultural Relations Department of the French Foreign Ministry, than -it would have been for the Covent Garden company. It was necessary to -trim the scenery, omit much of it, and use only part of the personnel of -the company at a time. But, on the other hand, it was a genuine pleasure -to welcome them on their first visit to the United States and Canada. In -addition to the Dance Festival Season in New York, we played highly -successful engagements in Montreal, Toronto, and Chicago. - -The company was headed by a distinguished French _ballerina_ in the true -French style, Yvette Chauviré. Other principal members of the company, -all from the higher echelons of the Paris Opera, included Roger Ritz, -Christiane Vaussard, Michel Renault, Alexandre Kalioujny, Micheline -Bardin, and Max Bozzini, with Robert Blot and Richard Blareau as -conductors. The repertoire included _Ports of Call_, Serge Lifar’s -ballet to Jacques Ibert’s _Escales_; _Salad_, a Lifar work to a Darius -Milhaud creation; Lifar’s setting of Ravel’s _Pavane_; _The Wise -Animals_, based on the Jean de la Fontaine fables, by Lifar, to music by -Francis Poulenc; _Suite in White_, from Eduardo Lalo’s _Naouma_; _Punch -and the Policeman_, staged by Lifar to a score by Jolivet; -_Divertissement_, cuttings from Tchaikowsky’s _The Sleeping Beauty_; -_The Peri_, Lifar’s staging of the well-known ballet score by Paul -Dukas; _The Crystal Palace_, Balanchine’s ballet to Bizet’s symphony, -known here as _Symphony in C_; Vincent d’Indy’s _Istar_, in the Lifar -choreography; _Gala Evening_, taken from Delibes’ _La Source_, by Leo -Staats; Albert Aveline’s _Elvira_, to Scarlatti melodies orchestrated by -Roland Manuel; André Messager’s _The Two Pigeons_, choreographed by -Albert Aveline; the Rameau _Castor and Pollux_, staged by Nicola Guerra; -_The Knight and the Maiden_, a two-act romantic ballet, staged by Lifar -to a score by Philippe Gaubert; and _Les Mirages_, a classical work by -Lifar, to music by Henri Sauguet. - -Serge Lifar returned to America, not to dance, but as the choreographer -of the company of which he is the head. - -I happen to know certain facts about Lifar’s behavior during the -Occupation of France, facts I did not know at the time of the -publication of my earlier book, _Impresario_. Certain statements I made -in that book concerning Serge Lifar were made on the basis of such -information as I had at the time, which I believed was reliable. I have -subsequently learned that it was not correct, and I have also -subsequently had additional, quite different, and reliably documented -information which makes me wish to acknowledge that an error of judgment -was expressed on the basis of inconclusive evidence. Lifar may not have -been a hero; very possibly, and quite probably, he may have been -indiscreet; but it is now obvious to any fair-minded person that there -has been a good deal of malicious gossip spread about him. - -Lifar was restored to his post at the head of the Paris Opera Ballet by -M. Georges Hirsch, Administrator, Director of the French National Lyric -Theatres, himself a war-hero with a distinguished record. The dancers -of the Paris Opera Ballet threatened to strike unless Lifar was so -restored; the stage-hands, with definite indications of Communist -inspiration, to strike if he was. Hirsch had the courage of his -convictions. I have found that Lifar did not take the Paris Opera Ballet -to Berlin during the Occupation, as has been alleged in this country, -although the Germans wanted it badly; and I happen to know numerous -other French companies did go. I also have learned that it was Serge -Lifar who prevented the Paris Opera Ballet from going. I happen to know -that Lifar did fly in a German plane to Kieff, his birthplace; as I -happen to know that he did not show Hitler through the Paris Opera -itself, as one widely-spread rumor has had it. As a matter of fact, -stories to the effect that he did both these things have been widely -circulated. I happen to have learned that Lifar made a tremendous effort -to save that splendid gentleman, René Blum, but was unable to prevail -against Blum’s patriotic but unfortunately stupid determination to -remain in Paris. I also happen to know that Lifar was personally active -in saving many Jews and also other liberals from deportation. Moreover, -I know that, as has always been characteristic of Lifar, because he was -one who had, he helped from his own pocket those who had not. - -The performances of the Ballet of the Paris Opera at the City Center -were not the slightest proof of the quality of its productions or its -performance. The shocking limitations of the playhouse made necessary a -vast reduction of its personnel, its scenery, its essential quality. The -Paris Opera Ballet is, of course, a State Ballet in the fullest sense of -the term. It is an aristocratic organization, conscious of the great -tradition that hangs over it. The air is thick with it. Its dancers are -civil servants of the Republic of France and their promotion in rank -follows upon a strict examination pattern. It would be interesting one -day to see the company at the Metropolitan Opera House, where its -original setting could be approximated, although I fear the Metropolitan -has nothing comparable with the _foyer de la dance_ of the Paris Opera. - -Here is ballet on a big scale and in the grand manner, with all the -scenic and costume panoply of the art at its most grandiose. It is the -sort of fine ballet that succeeds in giving the art an immense -popularity with the masses. - -As a matter of fact, I am negotiating with the very able Maurice -Lehmann, the successor to Georges Hirsch as Director-General of the -Opera, and I can think of no happier result than to be able to bring -this rich example of the balletic art of France to America under the -proper circumstances and conditions, if for no other reason than to -compensate the organization for their previous visit. - - * * * * * - -The International Dance Festival over, my chief desire was to bring -Sadler’s Wells to this continent. - -Perhaps it would be as well, for the sake of the reader who may be -unfamiliar with its background and thus disposed to regard this as -merely another ballet company, to shed a bit of light on the Sadler’s -Wells organization. - -Following the death of Diaghileff, in 1929, we knew that ballet in -Britain was in a sad state of decline, from which it might well never -have emerged had it not been for two groups, the Ballet Club of Marie -Rambert and the Camargo Society. Each was to be of vital importance to -the ballet picture in Britain and, indirectly, in the world. The -offspring of the Ballet Club was the Rambert Ballet; that of the Camargo -Society, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet. As a matter of fact, the Camargo -Society, a Sunday night producing club, utilized the Ballet Club dancers -and another studio group headed by the lady now known as Dame Ninette de -Valois, D.B.E., D. Litt. - -Back in 1931, at the time of the formation of the Camargo Society, the -little acorn from which grew a mighty British oak, Dame Ninette, -“Madame” as she is known to all who know her, was plain Ninette de -Valois, who was born Edris Stannus, in Ireland, in 1898. She had joined -the Diaghileff Ballet as a dancer in 1923, had risen to the rank of -soloist (a rare accomplishment for a non-Russian), and left the great -man, daring to differ with him on the direction he was taking, something -amounting to _lese majesté_. She had produced plays, in the meantime, at -Dublin’s famous Abbey Theatre and at Cambridge University’s Festival -Theatre; and had also formed a choreographic group of her own which she -brought along to the Camargo Society to cooperate. When she did so, she -was far from famous. As a matter of fact, she was, to all intents and -purposes, unknown. - -One Sunday night in 1931, two things happened to Ninette de Valois: she -became famous overnight, which, knowing her as I do, was of much less -importance to her than the fact that, quite unwittingly, she laid the -foundation for a British National Ballet under her own direction. - -The work she produced for the Camargo Society on this Sunday night in -1931 did it. It was not a ballet in the strictest or accepted sense of -the word. Its composer called it _A Masque for Dancing_. The work was -_Job_, a danced and mimed interpretation of the Biblical story, in the -spirit of the painter and poet Blake, to one of Ralph Vaughan Williams’s -noblest scores. - -From Biblical inspiration she turned to the primitive, in a production -of Darius Milhaud’s _Creation du Monde_, a noble subject dealing with -the primitive gods of Easter Island, set to the 1923 jazz of the French -composer. - -Coincidental with the Camargo Society activities, Ninette de Valois was -making arrangements with another great Englishwoman, Lilian Baylis, who -had brought opera and drama to the masses at two theatres in the less -fashionable parts of London, the Old Vic, in the Waterloo Road, and -Sadler’s Wells, in Islington’s Rosebery Avenue. Lilian Baylis wanted a -ballet company. Armed with only her own determination and -high-mindedness, she had established a real theatre for the masses. - -Ninette de Valois, for a penny, started in with her group to do the -opera ballets at the Old Vic: those interludes in _Carmen_ and _Faust_ -and _Samson and Delilah_ that exist primarily to keep the dull -businessman in his seat with his wife instead of at the bar. However, -Lilian Baylis gave Ninette de Valois a ballet school, and it was in the -theatre, where a ballet school belonged, a part of and an adjunct to the -theatre. The Vic-Wells Ballet, soon to become the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, -was the result. - -It was not nearly as easy and as simple as it sounds as I write it. It -is beyond me fully to convey to the reader those qualities of tenacity -of purpose, of driving energy, of fearless courage that this remarkable -woman was forced to draw upon in the early years. There was no money; -and before a single penny could be separated from her, it had to be -melted from the glue with which she stuck every penny to the inside of -her purse. - -Alicia Markova joined the company. Anton Dolin was a frequent guest -artist. It was, in a sense, a Markova company, with the three most -popular works: _Swan Lake_, _The Nutcracker_, and _Giselle_. - -But, most importantly, Ninette de Valois had that vital requisite -without which, no matter how solvent the financial backing, no ballet -company is worth the price of its toe-shoes, viz., a policy. Ninette de -Valois’ policy for repertoire is codified into a simple formula: - - 1) Traditional-classical and romantic works. - - 2) Modern works of future classic importance. - - 3) Current work of more topical interest. - - 4) Works encouraging a strictly national tendency in their creation - generally. - - The first constitutes the foundation-stone, technical standard, and - historical knowledge that is demanded as a “means test” by which - the abilities of the young dancers are both developed and inspired. - - The second, those works which both musically and otherwise have a - future that may be regarded as the major works of this generation. - - The third, the topical and sometimes experimental, of merely - ephemeral interest and value, yet important as a means of balancing - an otherwise ambitious programme. - - The fourth is important to the national significance of the ballet. - Such works constitute the nation’s own contribution to the theatre, - and are in need perhaps of the most careful guidance of the groups. - -It was the classics which had, from the beginning, the place of -priority: _Swan Lake (Act II)_, _Les Sylphides_, _Carnaval_, _Coppélia_, -_The Nutcracker_, _Giselle_, and the full-length _Swan Lake_. - -In 1935, Markova left Sadler’s Wells to form her own company with Dolin. -With Markova’s departure, the whole character of the Sadler’s Wells -company changed. The Company became the Star. The company got along -without a _ballerina_ and concentrated on its own personality, on -developing dancers from its school, and on its direction. Creation and -development continued. - -However, during this time, there was emerging not precisely a “star,” -but a great _ballerina_. _Ballerina_ is a term greatly misused in the -United States, where any little dancer is much too often referred to -both in the press and in general conversation in this way. _Ballerina_ -is a title, not a term. The title is one earned only through long, hard -experience. It is attained _only_ in the highly skilled interpretation -of the great standard classical parts. Russia, France, Italy, Denmark, -countries where there are state ballets, know these things. We in the -United States, I fear, do not understand. A “star” is not one merely by -virtue of billing. A _ballerina_ is, of course, a “star,” even in a -company that has no “stars” in its billing and advertising. A true -_ballerina_ is a rare bird indeed. In an entire generation, it should be -remembered, the Russian Imperial Ballet produced only enough for the -fingers of two hands. - -The great _ballerina_ I have mentioned as having come up through the -Sadler’s Wells Company, as the product of that company, is more than a -_ballerina_. She is a _prima ballerina assoluta_, a product of Sadler’s -Wells training, of the Sadler’s Wells system, a member of that all-round -team that is Sadler’s Wells. Her name is Margot Fonteyn. I shall have -something to say about her later on. - -I have pointed out that the backbone of the Sadler’s Wells repertoire is -the classics. Therein, in my opinion, lies one of the chief reasons for -its great success. There is a second reason, I believe. That is that, -along with Ninette de Valois’ sound production policy, keeping step with -it, sometimes leading it, is an equally sound musical policy. Sitting in -with de Valois and Frederick Ashton, as the third of the directorial -triumvirate, was the brilliant musician, critic, and wit, Constant -Lambert, who exerted a powerful influence in the building of the -repertoire, and who, with the sympathetic cooperation of his two -colleagues, made the musical standards of Sadler’s Wells the highest of -any ballet company in my knowledge and experience. - -The company grew and prospered. The war merely served to intensify its -efforts--and its accomplishments. Its war record is a brilliant, albeit -a difficult one; a record of unremitting hard work and dogged -perseverance against terrible odds. The company performed unceasingly -throughout the course of the war, with bombs falling. Once the dancing -was stopped, while the dancers fought a fire ignited by an incendiary -bomb and thus saved the theatre. The company was on a good-will tour of -Holland, under the auspices of the British Council, in the spring of -1940. They were at Arnheim when Hitler invaded. Packed into buses, they -raced ahead of the Panzers, reached the last boat to leave, left minus -everything, but everything: productions, scenery, costumes, properties, -musical material, and every scrap of personal clothing. - -Once back in Britain, there was no cessation. The lost productions and -costumes were replaced; the musical material renewed, some of it, since -it was manuscript, by reorchestrating it from gramophone recordings. As -the Battle of Britain was being fought, the company toured the entire -country, with two pianos in lieu of orchestra, with Constant Lambert -playing the first piano. They played in halls, in theatres, in camps, in -factories; brought ballet to soldiers and sailors, to airmen, and to -factory workers, often by candlelight. They managed to create new works. -Back to London, to a West End theatre, with orchestra, and then, because -of the crowds, to a larger West End playhouse. - -It was at the end of the war, as I have mentioned earlier, that the -music publishing house of Boosey and Hawkes, with a splendid -generosity, saved the historic Royal Opera House, at Covent Garden, from -being turned into a popular dance hall. A common error on the part of -Americans is to believe that because it was called the Royal Opera -House, it was a State-supported theatre, as, for example, are the Royal -Opera House of Denmark, at Copenhagen, and the Paris Opéra. Among those -Maecenases who had made opera possible in the old days in London was Sir -Thomas Beecham, who made great personal sacrifices to keep it open. - -When Boosey and Hawkes took over Covent Garden, it was on a term lease. -On taking possession they immediately turned over the historic edifice -to a committee known as the Covent Garden Opera Trust, of which the -chairman was Lord Keynes, the distinguished economist and art patron -who, as plain Mr. John Maynard Keynes, had been instrumental in the -formation of the Camargo Society, and who had married the one-time -Diaghileff _ballerina_, Lydia Lopokova; this committee had acted as -god-parents to the Sadler’s Wells company in its infancy. The Arts -Council supported the venture, and David Webster was appointed -Administrator. - - * * * * * - -A word or two about the Arts Council and its support of the arts in -Britain is necessary for two reasons: one, because it is germane to the -story of Sadler’s Wells, and, two, germane to some things I wish to -point out in connection with subsidy of the arts in these troubled -times, since I believe a parallel can be drawn with our own hit-and-miss -financing. - -Under the British system, there is no attempt to interfere with -aesthetics. The late Sir Stafford Cripps pointed out that the Government -should interfere as little as possible in the free development of art. -The British Government’s attitude has, perhaps, been best stated by -Clement Atlee, as Prime Minister, when he said: “I think that we are all -of one mind in desiring that art should be free.” He added that he -thought the essential purpose of an organized society was to set free -the creative energies of the individual, while safeguarding the -well-being of all. The Government, he continued, must try to provide -conditions in which art might flourish. - -There is no “Ministry of Fine Arts” as in most continental and South -American countries. The Government’s interest in making art better known -and more within the reach of all is expressed through three bodies: the -Arts Council, the British Film Institute, and the British Council. - -The Arts Council was originally known by the rather unwieldy handle of -C. E. M. A. (The Council for the Encouragement of Music and the Arts), -originally founded by a gift from an American and Lord De La Warr, then -President of the Board of Education. In 1945, the Government decided to -continue the work, changed the name from C. E. M. A. to the Arts Council -of Great Britain, gave it Parliamentary financial support, and granted -it, on 9 August, 1946, a Royal Charter to develop “a greater knowledge, -understanding and practice of fine arts exclusively, and in particular -to increase the availability of the fine arts to the public ... to -improve the standard of the execution of the fine arts and to advise and -cooperate with ... Government departments, local authorities and other -bodies on matters concerned directly or indirectly with those objects.” - -Now, the Arts Council, while sponsored by the Government, is not a -Government department. Its chairman and governors (called members of the -Council) are appointed by the Chancellor of the Exchequer after -consultation with the Minister of Education and the Secretary of State -for Scotland. The Chancellor answers for the Council in the House of -Commons. While the Council is supported by a Government grant, its -employees are in no sense civil servants, and the Council enjoys an -independence that would not be possible were it a Government department. - -The first chairman of the Arts Council, and also a former chairman of C. -E. M. A., was Lord Keynes. His influence on the policy and direction of -the organization was invaluable. There are advisory boards, known as -panels, appointed for three years, experts chosen by the Council because -of their standing in and knowledge of their fields. Among many others, -the following well-known artists have served, without payment: Sir -Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Noel Coward, Peggy Ashcroft, J. B. -Priestley, Dame Myra Hess, Benjamin Britten, Tyrone Guthrie, Dame -Ninette de Valois, and Henry Moore. - -While statistics can be dull, a couple are necessary to the picture to -show how the Arts Council operates. For example, the Arts Council’s -annual grant from the British Treasury has risen each year: in -1945-1946, the sum was £235,000 ($658,000); in 1950-1951, £675,000 -($1,890,000). - -Treasury control is maintained through a Treasury Assessor to the Arts -Council; on his advice, the Chancellor of the Exchequer recommends to -Parliament a sum to be granted. The Assessor is in a position to judge -whether the money is being properly distributed, but he does not -interfere with the complete autonomy of the Council. - -The Council, in its turn, supports the arts of the country by giving -financial assistance or guarantees to organizations, companies, and -societies; by directly providing concerts and exhibitions; or by -directly managing and operating a company or theatre. The recipient -organizations, for their part, must be non-profit or charitable trusts -capable of helping carry out the Council’s purpose of bringing to the -British people entertainment of a high standard. Such organizations must -have been accepted as non-profit companies by H. M. Commissioners of -Customs and Excise, and exempted by them from liability to pay -Entertainments Duty. - -An example of the help tendered may be gathered from the fact that in -1950, eight festivals, ten symphony orchestras, five theatres, -twenty-five theatre companies, seven opera and ballet companies, one -society for poetry and music, two art societies, four arts centers, and -sixty-three clubs were being helped. In addition, two theatres, three -theatre companies, and one arts center were entirely and exclusively -managed by the Arts Council. Some of the best-known British orchestras, -theatres, and companies devoted to opera, ballet, and the drama are -linked to the Arts Council: The Hallé Orchestra, the London Philharmonic -Orchestra, the London Symphony Orchestra, Covent Garden Opera Trust, -Covent Garden Opera Company, and the Sadler’s Wells Companies are among -them. Also the Old Vic, Tennent Productions, Ltd., and the Young Vic -Theatre companies. - -Government assistance to opera in twentieth century Britain did not -begin with the Arts Council. In the early ’thirties Parliament granted a -small subsidy to the Covent Garden Opera Syndicate for some two years to -help present grand opera in Covent Garden and the provinces at popular -prices. A total of £40,000 ($112,000) had been paid when the grant was -withdrawn after the financial crisis of 1931, and it was more than ten -years before national opera became a reality. - -In the meantime, some ballet companies and an opera company began to -receive C. E. M. A. support. The Sadler’s Wells Opera Company and -Sadler’s Wells Ballet Company, for instance, began their association -with C. E. M. A. in 1943. C. E. M. A. was also interested in plans -stirring in 1944 and 1945 to reclaim the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden, as a national center for ballet and opera. I have pointed out -how this great theatre in London, with a history dating back to the -eighteenth century, was leased in 1944 by the international music firm -of Boosey and Hawkes, who, in turn, rented it to the newly formed Covent -Garden Opera Trust. The Trust, an autonomous body whose original -chairman was Lord Keynes, is a non-profit body which devotes any profits -it may make to Trust projects. Late in 1949, H. M. Ministry of Works -succeeded Boosey and Hawkes as lessees, with a forty-two-year lease. - -The Arts Council, in taking over from C. E. M. A., inherited C. E. M. -A.’s interest in using Covent Garden for national ballet and opera. The -Council granted Covent Garden £25,000 ($70,000) for the year ended 31 -March, 1946, and £55,000 ($154,000) for the following year. At the same -time, it was granting Sadler’s Wells Foundation £10,000 ($28,000) and -£15,000 ($42,000) in those years. - -The Covent Garden Opera Trust, in the meantime, had invited the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet to move to Covent Garden from their famous ballet center, -Sadler’s Wells. This it did, early in 1946, leaving behind another -company called the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. Ninette de Valois -continued to direct both groups. - -It was a year later the Covent Garden Opera Company gave its first -presentation under the Covent Garden Opera Trust, and the two chief -Covent Carden companies, opera and ballet, were solidly settled in their -new home. - -The Trust continues to receive a grant from the Arts Council (£145,000 -[$406,000] in 1949-1950), and it pays the rent for the Opera House and -the salaries and expenses of the companies. So far as the ballet company -is concerned, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet pretty well pays its own way, -except for that all-besetting expense in ballet, the cost of new -productions. The opera company requires relatively more support from the -Trust grant, as it has re-staged and produced every opera afresh, not -using any old productions. Moreover, the attendance for ballet is -greater than that for opera. - -The aim of Covent Garden and its Administrator, David Webster, is to -create a steady audience, and to appeal to groups that have not hitherto -attended ballet and opera, or have attended only when the most brilliant -stars were appearing. Seats sell for as little as 2s 6d (35¢), rising to -26s 3d ($3.67) and the ballet-and-opera-going habit has grown noticeably -in recent years. It is interesting to note the audience for opera -averaged eighty-three per cent capacity, and for the ballet ninety-two -per cent. - -The two British companies alternately presenting ballet and opera -provide most of the entertainment at Covent Garden, but foreign -companies such as the Vienna State Opera with the Vienna Philharmonic -Orchestra, La Scala Opera, the Paris Opéra Comique, the Ballet Theatre -from New York, the New York City Ballet Company, the Grand Ballet of the -Marquis de Cuevas, and Colonel de Basil’s Original Ballets Russes have -had short seasons there. - -The Arts Council is in association with the two permanent companies -coincidentally operating at Sadler’s Wells--the Sadler’s Wells Theatre -Ballet and the Sadler’s Wells Opera Company. Other opera and ballet -companies associated with the Arts Council are the English Opera Group, -Ltd., and the Ballet Rambert, while the Arts Council manages the St. -James Ballet Company. - -All these companies tour in Britain, and some of them make extended -tours abroad. The Ballet Rambert, for instance, has made a tour of -Australia and New Zealand, which lasted a year and a half, a record for -that area. - -The Sadler’s Wells Ballet has made long and highly successful tours of -the European continent. Its first visit to America occurred in the -autumn of 1949, when the Covent Garden Opera Trust, in association with -the Arts Council and the British Council, presented the group at the -Metropolitan Opera House in New York City, and in various other centres -in the United States and Canada, under my management. A second and much -longer visit took place in 1950-1951, with which visits this chapter is -primarily concerned. - -Sadler’s Wells has a ballet school of something more than two hundred -students, including the general education of boys and girls from ten to -sixteen. Scholarships are increasing in number; some of these are -offered by various County Councils and other local authorities, and a -number by the Royal Academy of Dancing. - -In addition to the Arts Council, I have mentioned the British Council, -and no account of Britain’s cultural activities could make any -pretensions to being intelligible without something more than a mention -of it. It should be pointed out that the major part of the British -Council’s work is done abroad. - -Established in 1934, the British Council is Britain’s chief agent for -strengthening cultural relations with the rest of the British -Commonwealth, Europe, the Middle East, the Far East, the United States, -and Latin America. It is responsible for helping to make British -cultural achievements known and understood abroad, and for bringing to -the British, in turn, a closer knowledge of foreign countries. - -Like many other British cultural bodies, the British Council derives its -main financial support from the Government (through grants from the -Foreign Office, plus certain sums on the Colonial and Commonwealth -votes), and is a body corporate, not a Government organization. Its -staff are not civil servants and its work is entirely divorced from -politics, though the Council has a certain amount of State control -because nine of the Executive Committee (fifteen to thirty in number) -are nominated by Government departments. - -The British Council’s chief activities concern educational exchanges -with foreign countries of students, teachers, and technicians, including -arranging facilities for these visitors in Britain; they include -supporting libraries and information services abroad where British books -and other reading materials are readily available, and further include -the financing of tours of British lecturers and exhibitions, and of -theatrical, musical, and ballet troupes abroad. Sadler’s Wells Ballet -has toured to Brussels, Prague, Warsaw, Poznau, Malmö, Oslo, Lisbon, -Berlin, and the United States and Canada under British Council auspices -with great success. The Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet has toured the -United States and Canada, under my management, with equal success, and -is soon to visit Africa, including Kenya Colony. The Old Vic Company, -the Boyd Neel String Orchestra, and the Ballet Rambert toured Australia -and New Zealand, and the Old Vic has toured Canada. John Gielgud’s -theatre company has visited Canada. In addition, the British Council has -sponsored visits abroad of such distinguished musicians as Sir Adrian -Boult, Sir John Barbirolli, Sir Malcolm Sargent, and Maggie Teyte. - -One of the British Council’s important trusts is the responsibility for -the special gramophone recordings of distinguished musical works and of -the spoken word. This promotion is adding notably to record libraries, -and is helping to make the best music available to listeners all over -the world. It is also the Government’s principal agent for carrying out -the cultural conventions agreed upon with other members of the United -Nations. These provide, in general, for encouraging mutual knowledge and -appreciation of each other’s culture through interchanging teachers, -offering student scholarships, and exchanging books, films, lectures, -concerts, plays, exhibitions, and musical scores. - -The relationship between the British Council and the Arts Council is -necessarily one of careful collaboration. In the time of C. E. M. A. -many tasks were accomplished in common, such as looking after foreign -residents in Great Britain. Now the division of labor of the two -Councils is well defined, with clear-cut agreement on their respective -responsibilities for the various entertainment groups that come to or go -from Britain. The British Council helps British artists and works of art -to go ahead; the Arts Council assists artistic activities in Britain, -including any that may come from abroad. Both bodies have a number of -committee members in common, and the feeling between the groups is close -and friendly. - -It is, I feel, characteristic of the British that, without a definite, -planned, long-term programme for expanding its patronage of the arts, -the British Government has nevertheless come to give financial aid to -almost every branch of the art world. This has developed over a period -of years, with accumulated speed in the last twelve because of the war, -because the days of wide patronage from large private incomes are -disappearing if not altogether disappeared, and also perhaps because of -an increasing general realization of the people’s greater need for -leisure-time occupation. - -In all of this I must point out quite emphatically that it is the -British Government’s policy to encourage and support existing and -valuable institutions. Thus the great symphony orchestras, Sadler’s -Wells Ballet, Covent Garden Opera, and various theatre companies are not -run by the Government, but given grants by the Arts Council, a -corporation supported by Government money. - -What is more, there is no one central body in Britain in charge of the -fine arts, but a number of organizations, with the Arts Council covering -the widest territory. Government patronage of the arts in Britain, as -has frequently been true of other British institutions, has grown with -the needs of the times, and the organization of the operating bodies has -been flexible and adaptable. - -The bodies that receive Government money, such as the Arts Council, the -British Broadcasting Corporation, and the British Council are relatively -independent of the Government, their employees not being civil servants -and their day-to-day business being conducted autonomously. - -There is no attempt on the part of the Government to interfere with the -presentations of the companies receiving State aid, though often the -Government encourages experimentation. A very happy combination of arts -sponsorship is now permissible under a comparatively recent Act of -Parliament that allows local government authorities to assist theatrical -and musical groups fully. Now, for instance, an orchestra based -anywhere in Britain may have the financial backing of the town -authorities, as well as of the Arts Council and private patrons. - -While accurate predictions about the future course of relations between -Government and the arts in Britain are not, of course, possible, it -seems likely, however, that all of mankind will be found with more, -rather than less, leisure in the years to come. In the days of the -industrial revolution in Britain a hundred-odd years ago, the people, by -which I mean the working classes, had little opportunity for cultivating -a taste for the arts. - -Now, with the average number of hours worked by British men, thanks to -trade unionism and a more genuinely progressive and humanitarian point -of view, standing at something under forty-seven weekly, there is -obviously less time devoted to earning a living, leaving more for -learning the art of living. It may well be that the next hundred years -will see even more intensive efforts made to help people to use their -leisure hours pleasantly and profitably. As long ago as the early -1930’s, at a time when he was so instrumental in encouraging ballet -through the founding of the Camargo Society, Lord (then J. Maynard) -Keynes wrote that he hoped and believed the day would come when the -problem of earning one’s daily bread might not be the most important one -of our lives, and that “the arena of the heart and head will be -occupied, or reoccupied, by our real problems--the problems of life and -of human relations, of creation and behavior and religion.” Then, “for -the first time since his creation,” Lord Keynes continued, “man will be -faced with his real, his permanent problem--how to use his freedom from -pressing economic cares, how to occupy the leisure science and compound -interest will have won for him to live wisely and agreeably and well.” - - * * * * * - -Stripped to the simplest explanation possible, Sadler’s Wells leased its -company to Covent Garden for a period of years. The move must have -entailed a prodigious amount of work for all concerned and for Ninette -de Valois in particular. Quite apart from all the physical detail -involved: new scenery, new musical material, new costumes, more dancers, -there was, most importantly, a change of point of view, even of -direction. With a large theatre and orchestra, and large -responsibilities, experimental works for the moment had to be postponed. -New thinking had to be employed, because the company’s direction was now -in the terms of the Maryinsky Theatre, the Bolshoi, the Paris Opéra. - -The keystone of the arch that is Sadler’s Wells’s policy is the -full-length productions of classical ballets. The prime example is _The -Sleeping Beauty_, my own reactions to which, when I first saw it, I have -already recounted. In the production of this work, the company was -preeminent, with Margot Fonteyn as a bright, particular star; but the -“star” system, if one cares to call it that, was utilized to the full, -since each night there was a change of cast; and it must be remembered -that in London it is possible to present a full-length work every night -for a month or more without changing the bill, whereas in this country, -almost daily changes are required. This, it should be pointed out, -required a good deal of audience training. - -The magnificent production of _The Sleeping Beauty_ cost more than -£10,000, at British costs. What the costs for such a production as that -would have been on this side of the Atlantic I dislike to contemplate. -The point is that it was a complete financial success. Another point I -should like to make is that while _The Sleeping Beauty_ was presented -nightly, week after week, there was no slighting of the other classical -works such as the full-length _Swan Lake_, _Coppélia_, _Les Sylphides_, -and _Giselle_; nor was there any diminution of new works or revivals of -works from their own repertoire. - -It was in 1948 I returned to London further to pursue the matter of -their invasion of America. It was my very dear friend, the late Ralph -Hawkes of the music publishing firm of Boosey and Hawkes, the -leaseholders of Covent Garden, who helped materially in arranging -matters and in persuading the Sadler’s Wells direction and the British -Arts Council that they were ready for America and that, since Hawkes was -closely identified with America’s musical life, that this country was -ready for them. - -Meanwhile, Ninette de Valois grew increasingly dubious about -full-length, full-evening ballets, such as _The Sleeping Beauty_ and -_Swan Lake_, in the States, and was convinced in her own mind that the -United States and Canadian audiences not only would not accept them, -much less sit still before a single work lasting three and one-half -hours. Much, of course, was at stake for all concerned and it was, -indeed, a serious problem about which to make a final, inevitable -decision. - -The conferences were long and many. Conferences are a natural -concomitant of ballet. But there was a vast difference between these -conferences and the hundreds I had had with the Russians, the -Caucasians, the Bulgarians, and the Axminsters. Here were neither -intrigues nor whims, neither suspicion nor stupidity. On the contrary, -here was reasonableness, logic, frankness, fundamental British honesty. -George Borodin, a Russian-born Englishman and a great ballet-lover, once -pointed out that ballet is a medium that transcends words, adding “the -tongue is a virtuoso that can make an almost inexhaustible series of -noises of all kinds.” In my countless earlier conferences with other -ballet directorates, really few of those noises, alas, really meant -anything. - -At last, the affirmative decision was made and we arrived at an -agreement on the repertoire for the American season, to include the -full-length works, along with a representative cross-section, -historically speaking, of the Sadler’s Wells repertoire of their shorter -works. The matter settled, I left for home. - -On my return to New York, still other problems awaited me. The -Metropolitan Opera House, the only possible New York stage on which -Sadler’s Wells could appear, was faced with difficulties and -perplexities, with other commitments for the period when the British -visitors would be here. - -However, thanks to the invaluable cooperation and assistance of Edward -Johnson, Alfred P. Sloan, and Mrs. August Belmont, it was decided that a -part of the season should be given to Sadler’s Wells. Had it not been -for their friendly, intelligent, and influential offices, New York might -not have had the pleasure and privilege of the Sadler’s Wells visit. - -The road at last having been cleared, our promotional campaign was -started and was limited to four weeks. The response is a matter of -theatrical history. - -Here, for the first time in the United States, was a company carrying on -the great tradition in classical ballet, with timely and contemporary -additions. Here was a company with a broad repertoire based on and -imbedded in the full-length classics, but also bolstered with modern -works that strike deep into human experience. Here were choreographers -who strove to broaden the scope of their art and to bring into their -works some of the richness of modern psychology and drama, always -balletic in idiom, with freedom of style, who permitted their dramatic -imaginations to guide them in creating movement and in the use of music. - -By boat came the splendid productions, the costumes, the properties, -loads and loads of them. By special chartered planes came the company, -and the technical staff, the entire contingent headed by the famous -directorial trio, Ninette de Valois, Frederick Ashton, and Constant -Lambert, with the executive side in the capable hands of David Webster, -General Administrator. The technical department was magnificently -presided over by Herbert Hughes, General Manager of the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet, and the late Louis Yudkin, General Stage Director. - -It was an American _ballerina_, Nora Kaye, who hustled Margot Fonteyn -from the airport to let her have her first peek at the Metropolitan -Opera House. The curtain was up when they arrived, revealing the old -gold and red auditorium. Margot’s perceptive eyes took it all in at a -glance. She took a deep breath, clasped her hands in front of her. -“Thank goodness,” she said, “it’s old and comfortable and warm and rich, -as an opera house should be.” She paused for a reflective moment and -added, “I was so afraid it would be slick and modern like everything -else here, all steel and chromium, and spit and polish. I’m glad it’s -old!”. - -On an afternoon before the opening, my very good friend, Hans Juda, -publisher of Britain’s international textile journal, _Ambassador_, -together with his charming wife, gave a large and delightful cocktail -party at Sherry’s in the Metropolitan Opera House for a large list of -invited guests from the worlds of art, business, and diplomacy. Hans -Juda is a very helpful and influential figure in the world of British -textiles and wearing apparel. It was he, together with the amiable James -Cleveland Belle of the famous Bond Street house of Horrocks, who -arranged with British designers, dressmakers, textile manufacturers, and -tailors to see that each member of the Sadler’s Wells company was -outfitted with complete wardrobes for both day and evening wear; the -distaff side with hats, suits, frocks, shoes, and accessories; the male -side with lounge suits, dinner jackets, shoes, gloves, etc. The men were -also furnished with, shall I say, necessaries for the well-dressed man, -which were soon packed away, viz., bowler hats (“derbies” to the -American native) and “brollies” (umbrellas to Broadway). - -The next night was, in more senses than one, the _BIG_ night: a -completely fabulous _première_. The Metropolitan was sold out weeks in -advance, with standees up to, and who knows, perhaps beyond, the normal -capacity. Hundreds of ballet lovers had stood in queue for hours to -obtain a place in the coveted sardine space, reaching in double line -completely round the square block the historic old house occupies on -Broadway, Seventh Avenue, Thirty-ninth and Fortieth Streets. The -orchestra stalls and boxes were filled with the great in all walks of -life. The central boxes of the “Golden Horseshoe,” draped in the Stars -and Stripes and the Union Jack, housed the leading figures of the -diplomatic and municipal worlds. - -Although the date was 9 October, it was the hottest night of the summer, -as luck would have it. The Metropolitan Opera House is denied the -benefit of modern air-conditioning; the temperature within its hallowed -walls, thanks to the mass of humanity and the lights, was many degrees -above that of the humid blanket outside. - -Despite all this, so long as I shall live, I shall never forget the -stirring round of applause that greeted that distinguished figure, -Constant Lambert, as he entered the orchestra pit to lead the orchestra -in the two anthems, the Star Spangled Banner and God Save the King. The -audience resumed their seats; there was a bated pause, and then from the -pit came the first notes of the overture to _The Sleeping Beauty_, under -the sympathetic baton of that finest of ballet conductors. So long as I -shall live I shall never forget the deafening applause as the curtains -opened on the first of Oliver Messel’s sets and costumes. That applause, -which was repeated and repeated--for Fonteyn’s entrance, increasing in -its roar until, at the end, Dame Ninette had to make a little speech, -against her will--still rings in my ears. - -I have had the privilege of handling the world’s greatest artists and -most distinguished attractions; my career has been punctuated with -stirring opening performances of my own, and I have been at others quite -as memorable. However, so far as the quality of the demonstrations and -the manifestations of enthusiasm are concerned, the _première_ of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet at the Metropolitan Opera House, on 9 October, -1949, was the most outstanding of my entire experience. - -Dame Ninette de Valois, outwardly as calm as ever, but, I suspect, -inwardly a mass of conflicting emotions, was seated in the box with -Mayor O’Dwyer. As the curtains closed on the first act of _The Sleeping -Beauty_, and the tremendous roar of cheers and applause rose from the -packed house, the Mayor laid his hand on “Madame’s” arm and said, “Lady, -you’re _in_!” - -Crisply and a shade perplexed, “Madame” replied: - -“In?... Really?” - -Genuinely puzzled now, she tried unsuccessfully to translate to herself -what this could mean. “Strange language,” she thought, “I’m _in_?... In -what?... What on earth does that mean?” - -We met in the interval. I grasped her hand in sincere congratulation. -She patted me absently as she smiled. Then she turned and spoke. - -“Look here,” she said, “could you translate for me, please, something -His Lordship just said to me as the curtain fell? Put it into English, I -mean?” - -It was my turn to be puzzled. “Madame” was, I thought, seated with Mayor -O’Dwyer. Had she wandered about, moved to another box? - -“His Lordship?” - -“Yes, yes, of course. Your Lord Mayor, with whom I am sitting.” - -I hadn’t thought of O’Dwyer in terms of a peer. - -“Yes, yes,” she continued, “as the applause, that very surprising -applause rang out at the end, the Lord Mayor turned to me and said, -‘Lady, you’re _in_!’ Just like that. Now will you please translate for -me what it is? Tell me, is that good or bad?” - -Laughingly I replied, “What do you think?” - -“I really don’t know” was her serious and sincere response. - -The simple fact was that Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E., D. Litt., to -whose untiring efforts Sadler’s Wells owes its success, its existence, -its very being, honestly thought the company was failing in New York. - -This most gala of gala nights was crowned by a large and extremely gay -supper party given by Mayor O’Dwyer, at Gracie Mansion, the official -residence of the Mayor of the City of New York. It was a warm and balmy -night, with an Indian Summer moon--one of those halcyon nights all too -rare. Because of this, it was possible to stage the supper in that most -idyllic of settings, on the spacious lawn overlooking the moon-drenched -East River, with the silhouettes of the great bridges etched in silver -lights against the glow from the hundreds of colored lights strung over -the lawn. Beneath all this gleamed the white linen of the many tables, -the sparkle of crystal, the gloss of the silver. - -Two orchestras provided continuous dance music, the food and the -champagne were ineffable. It was a party given by the Mayor: to honor -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet and to cement those cultural ties between the -two great world centers, London and New York. What better means are -there for mutual understanding and admiration? - -There was, however, a delay on the part of the company in leaving the -Metropolitan Opera House, a quite extended delay. Three large buses -waited at the stage door, manned by Police Department Inspectors in -dress uniforms, with gold badges. But this was the first time the -company had worn the new evening creations I have mentioned. It took -longer to array themselves in these than it did for them to prepare for -the performance. As a matter of fact, Margot Fonteyn and Moira Shearer -were the last to be ready, each of them ravishing and stunning, the -dark, flashing brunette beauty of Fonteyn in striking contrast to the -soft, pinkish loveliness of Shearer. - -Then it was necessary for our staff and the police to form a flying -wedge to clear a path from the stage door to the waiting buses through -the tightly-packed crowd that waited in Fortieth Street for a glimpse of -the triumphant stars. - -Safe aboard at last, off the cavalcade started, headed by a Police -Department squad car, with siren tied down, red lights flashing, -together with two motorcycle police officers fifteen feet in advance and -the same complement, squad car and outriders, bringing up the rear of -the procession, through the red traffic lights, thus providing the -company with yet another American thrill. - -There was a tense instant as the procession left the Metropolitan and -the police sirens commenced their wail. The last time the company had -heard a siren was in the days of the blitz in London, when, no matter -how inured one became, the siren’s first tintinnabulation brought on -that sudden shock that no familiarity can entirely eradicate. It was -Constant Lambert’s dry wit that eased the situation. “It’s all right, -girls,” he called out, “that’s the ‘all clear.’”. - -Heading the receiving line at Gracie Mansion, as the company descended -the wide stairs into the festive garden, were the Mayor and Grover -Whalen, Sir Oliver and Lady Franks, Sir Alexander Cadogan, the Honorable -Trygve Lie, President Romulo. There was a twinkle in Mayor O’Dwyer’s -eye, as some of the _corps de ballet_ girls curtsied with a -“Good-evening, your Lordship.” - -Toasts were drunk to the President of the United States, the King of -England, Dame Ninette de Valois, to the Mayor, to Margot Fonteyn, Moira -Shearer, and the other principals. The party waxed even gayer. Dancers -seem never to tire of dancing. It was three in the morning when the -Mayor made a short speech to say “good-night,” explaining that he was -under doctor’s orders to go to bed, but that the party was to continue -unabated, and all were to enjoy themselves. - -It was past four o’clock when it finally broke up, and the buses, with -their police escorts, started the journey back through a sleeping -Manhattan to deposit the company at their various hotels. Constant -Lambert, the lone wolf, lived apart from the rest at an East Side hotel. -All the rest of the company had been dropped, when three buses, six -inspectors, two squad cars, four motorcycle officers, halted before the -sedate hostelry after five in the morning, and Constant Lambert, the -sole passenger in the imposing cavalcade, slowly and with a grave, -seventeenth-century dignity, solemnly shook hands with drivers, motor -police, and all the inspectors, thanked them for the extremely -interesting, and, as he put it, “highly informative” journey, saluted -them with his sturdy blackthorn stick, and disappeared within the chaste -portals of the hotel, while the police stood at salute, and two -bewildered milk-men looked on in wonder. - -The New York season was limited only by the availability of the -Metropolitan Opera House. We could have played for months. Also, the -company was due back at Covent Garden to fulfil its obligations to the -British taxpayer. Following the Metropolitan engagement, there was a -brief tour, involving a special train of six baggage cars, diner, and -seven Pullmans, visiting, with equal success and greeted by capacity and -turn-away houses, Washington, Richmond, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, -Chicago, and Michigan State College at East Lansing; thence across the -border into Canada, for engagements at Toronto, Ottawa, and Montreal, to -honor the Commonwealth. - -Before David Webster returned to London, we discussed the matter of an -early return for a longer stay. I pointed out that, with such an evident -success, Sadler’s Wells could not afford to delay its return for still -further and greater triumphs. Now, I emphasized, was the time to take -advantage of the momentum of success; now, if ever, was the time, since -the promotion, the publicity, the press notices, all were cumulative in -effect. - -Webster, I knew, was impressed. I waited for his answer. But he shook -his head slowly. - -“Sol,” he said, “it’s doubtful. Frankly, I do not think it is possible.” - -Meanwhile, I discussed the entire matter of the return with leading -members of the company. All were of a single opinion, all of one mind. -They were anxious and eager to return. - -Such are the workings of the Sadler’s Wells organization, however, that -it was necessary to delay a decision as to a return visit until at least -the 3rd or 4th of January, 1950, in order that the matter could be -properly put before the British Arts Council and the British Council for -their final approval. - -It should not be difficult for the reader to understand the anxiety and -eagerness with which I anticipated that date. - - * * * * * - -It seems to me that during this period of suspense it might be well for -me to sum up my impression of the repertoire that made up the initial -season. - -The Sadler’s Wells Ballet repertoire for the first American season -consisted of the following works: _The Sleeping Beauty_; _Le Lac des -Cygnes_ (_Swan Lake_) in full; _Cinderella_, in three acts; _Job_; -_Façade_; _Apparitions_; _The Rake’s Progress_; _Miracle in the -Gorbals_; _Hamlet_; _Symphonic Variations_; _A Wedding Bouquet_; and -_Checkmate_. The order is neither alphabetical nor necessarily in the -order of importance. Actually, irrespective of varying degrees of -success on this side of the Atlantic, they are all important, for they -represent, in a sense, a cross-section of the repertoire history of the -company. - -_The Sleeping Beauty_, in its Sadler’s Wells form, is a ballet in a -Prologue and three acts. The story is a collaboration by Marius Petipa -and I. A. Vsevolojsky, (the Director of the Russian Imperial Theatres at -the time of its creation), after the Charles Perrault fairy tale. The -music, of course, is Tchaikowsky’s immortal score. The scenery and -costumes are by Oliver Messel. The original Petipa choreography was -reproduced by Nicholas Serguëeff. - -It was the work which so brilliantly inaugurated the company’s -occupation of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, on 20th February, -1946. Sadler’s Wells had previously revived the work in 1939, on a -smaller scale, under the title _The Sleeping Princess_. - -My unforgettable memories of the present production are topped by the -inspired interpretation of the title role by Margot Fonteyn, who -alternated moods of subtlety and childlike simplicity with brilliant -fireworks, always within the ballet’s frame. There is the shining memory -of Beryl Grey’s magnificent Lilac Fairy, the memory of the alternating -casts, one headed by Moira Shearer, entirely different in its way. There -is, as a matter of fact, little difference between the casts. Always -there were such ensemble performances as the States had never before -seen. Over all shone the magnificence of Oliver Messel’s scenery and -costumes. - -The full-length _Swan Lake_ (_Le Lac des Cygnes_), actually in four -acts, was a revelation to audiences for years accustomed to the -truncated second act version. Its libretto, or book, is a Russian -compilation by Begitschev and Geltser. It was first presented by -Sadler’s Wells in the present settings and costumes by Leslie Hurry, -with the original choreography by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, -reproduced by Nicholas Serguëeff, on 7th September, 1943. - -This production replaced an earlier one, first done at the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, on 20th November, 1934, with Alicia Markova as the Swan -Queen, and the scenery and costumes by Hugh Stevenson. - -On the 13th April, 1947, it came to Covent Garden, with an increased -_corps de ballet_, utilizing the entire Covent Garden stage, as it does -at the Metropolitan Opera House. - -As always, Margot Fonteyn is brilliant in the dual role of Odette-Odile. -In all my wide experience of Swan Queens, Fonteyn today is unequaled. -With the Sadler’s Wells company, there is no dearth of first-rate Swan -Queens: Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer, Beryl Grey, Violetta Elvin. -Altogether, in case the reader has not already suspected it, _Swan Lake_ -is, I think, my favorite ballet. It is not only a classical ballet; it -is a classic. The haunting Tchaikowsky score, its sheer romanticism, its -dramatic impact, all these things individually and together, give it its -pride of place with the public of America as well as with myself. Here -my vote is with the majority. - -The third full-length work, so splendid in its settings and so bulky -that its performances had to be limited by its physical proportions only -to the largest stages, was _Cinderella_, which took up every inch on the -great stage of the Metropolitan Opera House. _Cinderella_ was the first -full evening ballet in the modern repertoire of Sadler’s Wells. A -three-act work, with choreography by Frederick Ashton, to the score by -Serge Prokofieff, its scenery and costumes are by the French painter, -Jean-Denis Malclès. - -Here was an instance where the chief choreographer of Sadler’s Wells, -Frederick Ashton, had the courage to tackle a full-length fairy story, -the veritable stuff from which true ballets are made in the grand -tradition of classical ballet: a formidable task. The measure of his -success is that he managed to do it by telling a beautiful and -thrice-familiar fairy tale in a direct and straightforward manner, never -dragging in spectacle for the sake of spectacle. Moreover, he was -eminently successful in avoiding, on the one hand, those sterilities of -classicism that lead only to boredom, and the grotesqueries of -modernism, on the other. - -For music, Ashton took the score Prokofieff composed for the Soviet -ballet of the same name, but created an entirely new work to the music. -The settings and costumes by Malclès could not have been more right, -filled as they are with the glamor of the fairy tale spirit and utterly -free from any trace of vulgarity. - -I shall always remember the Ugly Sisters of Ashton and Robert Helpmann, -in the best tradition of English pantomime. Moreover, the production was -blessed with three alternating Cinderellas, each individual in approach -and interpretation: Fonteyn, Shearer, and Elvin. - -_Job_, the reader will remember, is not called a ballet but “A Masque -for Dancing.” The adaptation of the Biblical legend in the spirit of the -William Blake drawings is the work of a distinguished British surgeon -and Blake authority, Geoffrey Keynes. It was the first important -choreographic work of Ninette de Valois. Its scenery and costumes were -the product of John Piper; its music is one of the really great scores -of that dean of living British composers, Ralph Vaughan Williams. - -In the music, completely modern in idiom, Vaughan Williams has followed -the overall pattern of the sixteenth and seventeenth century “Masques,” -using period rhythms (but not melodies) such as the _Pavane_, the -_Minuet_, the _Saraband_, and the _Gaillard_. - -The production itself is on two levels, in which all the earthly, -material characters remain on the stage level, while the spiritual -characters are on a higher level, the two levels being joined by a large -flight of steps. - -One character stands out in domination of the work. That is Satan, -created by Anton Dolin, and danced here by Robert Helpmann. The climax -of _Job_ occurs when Satan is hurled down from heaven. The whole thing -is a work of deep and moving beauty--a serious, thoughtful work that -ranks as one of Ninette de Valois’ masterpieces. - -_Façade_ represented the opposite extreme in the Sadler’s Wells -repertoire. There was considerable doubt on the part of the company’s -directorate that it would be acceptable on this side of the Atlantic, -because of its essential British humor; it was also feared that it might -be dated. As matters turned out, it was one of the most substantial -successes among the shorter works. - -_Façade_ was originally staged by Ashton for the Camargo Society in -1931, came to the Sadler’s Wells Ballet in 1935, was lost in the German -invasion of Holland, and was restored in the present settings and -costumes of John Armstrong in 1940. It is, of course, freely adapted -from the Edith Sitwell poems, with the popular score by Sir William -Walton. - -Fresh, witty, and humorous throughout, there is no suggestion of either -provincialism or of being dated. Its highlights for me were the Tango, -superbly danced by Frederick Ashton and Moira Shearer, who alternated -with Pamela May, and the Yodelling Song with its bucolic milkmaid. - -_Apparitions_ perhaps bore too close a resemblance in plot to Massine’s -treatment of the Berlioz _Symphonie Fantastique_, although the former is -a much earlier work, having been staged by Ashton in 1933. Its story is -by Constant Lambert; its music, a Lambert selection of the later music -of Franz Liszt, re-orchestrated by Gordon Jacob. Cecil Beaton designed -the extremely effective scenery and costumes. It was taken into the -Sadler’s Wells repertoire in 1936. - -It provided immensely effective roles for Margot Fonteyn and Robert -Helpmann. - -Strikingly successful was Ninette de Valois’ _The Rake’s Progress_. This -is a six-scene work, based on William Hogarth’s famous series of -paintings of the same name. Its story, like its music, is by Gavin -Gordon. Its setting, a permanent closed box, subject to minor changes -during the action, scene to scene, with an act-drop of a London street, -is by the late Rex Whistler, as are the costumes, Hogarthian in style. - -It is a highly dramatic work, in reality a sort of morality play, -perhaps, more than it is a ballet in the accepted sense of the term, but -a tremendously important work in the evolution of the repertoire that is -so peculiarly Sadler’s Wells. - -_Miracle in the Gorbals_ is another of the theatre pieces in the -repertoire. The choreographic work of Robert Helpmann, it is based on a -story by Michael Benthall, to a specially commissioned score by Sir -Arthur Bliss. Its setting and costumes are by the British artist, Edward -Burra. It was a wartime addition to the repertoire in the fall of 1944. - -Like _The Rake’s Progress_, _Miracle in the Gorbals_ is also a sort of -morality play, with strong overtones of a sociological tract. Bearing -plot and theme resemblances to Jerome K. Jerome’s _The Passing of the -Third Floor Back_, it puts the question: “What sort of treatment would -God receive if he returned to earth and visited the slums of a twentieth -century city?” - -A realistic work, it deals with low-life in a strictly down-to-earth -manner. As a spectacle of crowded tenement life, it mingles such -theatrical elements as the raising of the dead, murder, suicide, -prostitution. The Bliss music splendidly underlines the action. - -With all of its drama and melodrama, it was not, nevertheless, one of my -favorite works. - -The other Helpmann creation was _Hamlet_, staged by him two years before -_Miracle in the Gorbals_, in 1942. Utilizing the Tchaikowsky -fantasy-overture, its tremendously effective scenery and costumes are by -Leslie Hurry. - -_Hamlet_ was not an attempt to tell the Shakespeare story in ballet -form. Rather is it a work that attempts to portray the dying thoughts of -Hamlet as his life passes before him in review. Drama rather than dance, -it is a spectacle, linked from picture to picture by dances, a work in -which mime plays an important part. - -_Symphonic Variations_, set to César Franck’s work for piano and -orchestra of the same title, was Ashton’s first purely dance work in -abstract form. - -A work without plot, it employed only six dancers, three couples, on an -immense stage in an immensely effective setting of great simplicity by -Sophie Fedorovich. The six dancers were: Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer, -and Pamela May; Michael Somes, Henry Danton, and Brian Shaw. There is no -virtuoso role. It is a lyric work, calm, ordered, in which the classical -spirit is exalted in a mood of all for one, one for all. - -_A Wedding Bouquet_ is certainly the most genuinely witty work in all -modern ballet repertoire. The work of that genuine wit and gentleman of -impeccable taste in music, literature, and painting, the late Lord -Berners, it was staged by Ashton in 1937. Utilizing a text by Gertrude -Stein, spoken by a narrator seated at a table at the side of the stage, -its music, its scenery, its costumes, all are by Lord Berners. At the -Metropolitan Opera House, the narrator was the inimitable Constant -Lambert. In later performances, the role was taken over by Robert -Irving, the chief conductor. - -The work, a collaboration between Ashton, Berners, and Gertrude Stein, -is the most completely sophisticated ballet I know. The amazing thing -about it to me is that with its utterly integrated Stein text, it goes -as well in large theatres as it does in the smaller ones. The text is as -important as the dancing or the music. - -For me, aside from the hilarity of the work itself, was the pleasure I -derived from the performance of Moira Shearer as the thwarted spinster -who loved her dog, and June Brae, who danced the role of Josephine, who -was certainly not fitted to go to a wedding, as Gertrude Stein averred. -As the Bridegroom, Robert Helpmann provided a comic masterpiece. - -_Checkmate_ was the first British ballet to have its _première_ outside -the country, having been first presented as a part of the Dance Festival -at the International Exposition in Paris, in the summer of 1937. Both -music and book are by Sir Arthur Bliss, with scenery and costumes by the -Anglo-American artist, E. McKnight Kauffer. - -The concerns of the ballet are with a game of chess, with the dancers -pawns in the game. It appeals to me strongly, and I feel it is one of -Ninette de Valois’ finest choreographic achievements. It is highly -dramatic, leading to a grim tragedy. Its music is tremendously fine and -McKnight Kauffer’s settings and costumes are striking, effective, and -revolutionary. This is a work of first importance in all ballet -repertoire. - -I embarked upon a continuing bombardment of Ninette de Valois and David -Webster by cables and long-distance telephone calls. I never for a -instant let the matter out of my mind. - -As I counted off the days until a decision was due, the old year ran -out. It was on New Year’s Eve, while working in my office, that I was -taken ill. I had not been feeling entirely myself for several days, but -illness is something so foreign to me that I laughed it off as something -presumably due to some irregularity of living. - -Suddenly, late in the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, I found myself -doubled up with pain. I was rushed to hospital. A hasty blood-count -revealed the necessity for an immediate appendectomy. Before the old -year was greeted by the new, I had submitted to surgery. The doctors -said it was just in time--a case of “touch and go.” A good many things -in my life have been that. - -A minimum of a week’s hospitalization was imperative, the doctors said, -and after that another fortnight of quiet recuperation. I remained in -hospital the required week. - -Very soon after, against the united wishes of Mrs. Hurok and my office, -I was on a plane bound for London. - -At the London airport I was met by David Webster, who took me as quickly -and as smoothly as possible to my old stamping-ground, the Savoy Hotel, -where, on Webster’s firm insistence, I spent the next twelve hours in -bed. There followed extended consultations with Ninette de Valois and -Webster; but neither was able to give a definite answer on the -all-important matter of the second American tour. - -I pointed out to them that, in order to protect all concerned, bookings -were already being made across the United States and Canada: bookings -involving in many instances, definite guarantees. As I waited for a -decision, my office was daily badgering me. I was at a loss what to -reply to them. There were daily inconclusive trans-Atlantic telephone -conversations with my office and daily inconclusive conversations with -the Sadler’s Wells directorate. - -At last there came a glimmer. Webster announced that he believed a final -decision could be reached at or about 16th February. He required, he -said, that much further time in order to be able to figure out the -precise costs of the venture and to determine what, if anything, might -be left after the payment of all the terrific costs. In other words, he -had to determine and calculate the precise nature of the risk.... -Figures, figures, and still more figures.... Cables backwards and -forwards across the Atlantic, with my New York office checking and -rechecking on the capacities of the auditoriums, theatres, opera houses, -and halls in which the bookings had been made. - -The 16th February passed and still no decision was forthcoming. On 19th -February, all that could be elicited from Webster was: “I simply can’t -say at this juncture.” He added that he appreciated my position and -regretted the daily disappointments to which I was being subjected. - -There came the 22nd of February, in the United States the anniversary of -the birth of George Washington. This year in London, the 22nd of -February was the eve of the General Election. Most of the afternoon I -spent with Webster at his flat, going over papers. We dined together -and, as we parted, Webster’s only remark was: “See you at the -performance.” - -Meanwhile the pressure on me from New York increased. - -“What _is_ going to happen?” became the reiterated burden of the daily -messages from my office. - -Other matters in New York were requiring my attention, and it had become -necessary to inform Webster that it would be impossible for me to remain -any longer in London and that I was sailing in the _Queen Mary_ on -Friday. - -Election Eve I went to the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, to watch -another Sadler’s Wells performance. In the main foyer I ran into -Webster. - -“Can you guarantee us our expenses _and_ a profit?” he asked. - -“I can.” - -“It’s a deal.” - -It was eight-thirty in the evening of the 22nd February that the verbal -deal was made. Five hours difference in time made it three-thirty in the -afternoon in New York. I hurried back to the Savoy and called Mae -Frohman. - -“What’s going to happen?” - -“It’s all set,” I replied. - -Back to Covent Garden I went. In the Crush Bar, Webster and I toasted -our deal with a bottle of champagne. - -During Election Day, Webster, “Madame,” and I worked on repertoire and -final details; but, for the most part, we gave our attention to the -early returns from the General Election. After the performance that -night at the Garden, David Webster and his friend James Cleveland Belle, -joined me at the Savoy and remained until four in the morning, with one -eye and one ear on the returns. - -The next day I sailed in the good _Queen Mary_ and had a lovely -crossing, with my good friend, Greer Garson, on board to make the trip -even more pleasant. - -Mrs. Hurok, my daughter Ruth, Mae Frohman, and my office staff met me at -the Cunard pier; and I told the whole story, in all its intricate -detail, to them. - -But there were still loose ends to be caught up, and April found me -again back in London. The night following my arrival, I gave a big party -at the Savoy, with Ninette de Valois, Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer and -David Webster as the guests of honor. We toasted the success of the -first American season; drank another to the success of the forthcoming -and much more extended tour. - -While in London, we clarified and agreed upon many details, including -the final repertoire for the second American venture--which was to -reach, not only from coast to coast, but to dip into the far south as -well as far to the north. - -Back in New York for a brief stay and then, in June, Mrs. Hurok and I -left for our annual sojourn in Europe. This time we went direct to -London, where we revelled in the performances at Covent Garden. - -I have always loved London and always have been a great admirer of -London, the place, and of those things for which it stands as a symbol. -I love suddenly coming upon the fascinating little squares, with their -stately old houses, as often as not adorned with a fifteenth-century -church. Although modernism sometimes almost encroaches, they still -retain an old-fashioned dreaminess. - -About all is the atmosphere of history, tradition, and the aura of a -genuinely free people. The Royal Opera House itself has a particular -fascination for me. So far as I am concerned, there is not the slightest -incongruity in the fact that its façade looks out on a police station -and police court and that it is almost otherwise surrounded by a garden -market. A patina of associations seems to cover the fabric, both inside -and out--whether it is the bare boards and iron rails of the high -old-fashioned gallery, or the gilt and red plush and cream-painted -woodwork, the thin pillars of the boxes, the rather awkward staircases, -the “Crush” bar and the other bars, the red curtain bearing the coat of -arms of the reigning Monarch. Then, lights down, the great curtain -sweeps up, and once again, for the hundredth time, the tense magic holds -everyone in thrall. - -I love the true ballet lovers who are not to be found in the boxes alone -or in the stalls exclusively. Many of them sit in the lower-priced seats -in the upper circle, the amphitheatre, and in the gallery. The night -before an opening or an important revival or cast change, a long queue, -equipped with camp-chairs and sandwiches, waits patiently to be admitted -to the gallery seats the following evening. - -There is one figure I miss now at Covent Carden, one that seemed to me -to be a part of its very fabric. For years, going back stage to see Anna -Pavlova, Chaliapine, others of my artists, and in the days of the de -Basil Ballet, it was he who always had a cheery greeting. In 1948, Tom -Jackson closed his eyes in the sleep everlasting, to open them, one -hopes, at some Great Stage Door. He was the legendary stage door-keeper, -was Tom Jackson, and certainly one of the most important persons in -Covent Garden. He was a gentleman in the best sense of the word. Many -were the celebrated artists he saw come and go during his long regime. -Everybody spoke to him in their own tongue, although Jackson invariably -replied in English. He was, I remember, in charge of the artists’ mail, -and knew everyone, and remembered every name and every face. Jackson was -not only interested in his stage door, but took deep interest in the -artistic aspect of Covent Garden. Immediately after a performance of -either ballet or opera, he made up his mind whether it had been good or -bad. - -Sometimes it fell to Jackson’s lot to regulate matters outside the -Garden. The gallery queues, as is the London custom, attract all sorts -of itinerant musicians and entertainers to the Floral Street side where -they display and reveal their art to the patiently waiting galleryites. -If the hurdy-gurdies and public acclamations grew so loud that they -might disturb any in the offices above, Jackson, with infallible tact, -stopped the disturbance without offending the queuers or the -entertainers by his interference. - -Jackson guarded the Garden inexorably and was relentless on questions of -admission. With unerring instinct, he distinguished between friend and -foe, and was renowned for his treatment of the yellow press and its -columnists, with its nose for gossip and scandal. He is said once to -have unceremoniously deposited an over-enthusiastic columnist in the -street, after having refused a considerable sum of money for permission -to photograph a fainting _ballerina_. He was once seen chasing a large -woman who was brandishing a heavy umbrella around the outside of the -building. The large woman, in turn, was chasing Leonide Massine running -at full tilt. The woman, obviously a crackpot, had accused Massine of -stealing her idea for a ballet. Jackson caught the woman and disarmed -her. - -The London stage doorkeeper is really a breed unto himself. - -I love opening nights at Covent Garden, when it becomes, quite apart -from the stage, a unique social function in the display of dresses and -jewels, despite the austerity. It is always a curious mixture of private -elegance and public excitement. The excitement extends to all streets of -the district, right down to the Strand, making a strange contrast with -the cabbage stalls, stray potatoes, and the odor of vegetables lingering -on from the early market. The impeccable and always polite London police -are in control of all approaches, directing the endless stream of cars -without delay as they draw up in the famous covered way under the -portico. Ceremoniously they take care of all arriving pedestrians, and -surprisingly hold up even the most pretentious and important traffic to -let the pedestrian seat-holder through. The richly uniformed porters -keep chattering socialites from impeding traffic with a stern ritual all -their own, and announcing waiting cars in stentorian tones.... Ever in -my mind Covent Garden is associated with that sacred hour back stage -before a ballet performance, the company in training-kits, practising -relentlessly. Only those who know this hour can form any idea of the -overwhelming cost of the dancers’ brief glamorous hour before the -public. - -Particularizing from the general, from the very beginning, in all -contacts with the British and with Sadler’s Wells, the relations between -all concerned have been like those prevailing in a kind and -understanding family, and they remain so today. - -And now at the Savoy is the best smoked salmon in the world--Scottish -salmon. When I am there, a special large tray of it is always ready for -me. It is a passion I share with Ninette de Valois, who insists it is -her favorite dish. The question I am about to ask is purely rhetorical: -Is there anything finer than smoked Scottish salmon, with either a cold, -dry champagne or Scotch whiskey? - -The repertoire for the second American-Canadian tour of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet included, in addition to _The Sleeping Beauty_, the -four-act _Le Lac des Cygnes_ (_Swan Lake_), _Façade_, _A Wedding -Bouquet_, _The Rake’s Progress_ and _Checkmate_, the following works new -to America: their own production of _Giselle_, _Les Patineurs_, _Don -Quixote_, and _Dante Sonata_. - -_Giselle_, in the Sadler’s Wells version, with its Adam score, has -scenery and costumes by James Bailey, and was produced by Nicholas -Serguëeff, after the choreography of Coralli and Perrot. - -The original Wells production was at the Old Vic, in 1934, with Alicia -Markova in the title role. The production for Covent Garden dates from -1946, with Margot Fonteyn as Giselle. - -It requires no comment from me save to point out that Fonteyn is one of -the most interesting and effective interpreters of the role in my -experience, and I have seen a considerable number of Giselles. - -_Les Patineurs_ had been seen in America in a version danced by Ballet -Theatre. The Sadler’s Wells version is so much better that there is no -real basis for comparison. This version, by Frederick Ashton, dates back -to 1937. It has an interesting history. It is my understanding that the -original idea was that Ninette de Valois would stage it. The story has -it that, one night at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre, Ashton, whose -dressing-room adjoined that of Constant Lambert, heard the latter -working out dance rhythms from two Meyerbeer operas, _Star of the North_ -and _The Prophet_. The story goes on that Ashton was moved by the -melodies and that because “Madame” was so occupied with executive and -administrative duties, the choreographic job was given to him. Ashton -states that he composed this ballet, which is exclusively concerned with -skating, without ever having seen an ice-rink. - -I find it one of the most charming ballets in the repertoire, with -something in it for everyone. In these days of so-called “ice-ballets,” -which have little or no relation to ballet, however much they may have -to do with ice, I find here an academic ballet, which is very close to -skating. - -_Don Quixote_ was seen in but a few cities. It was the most recent work, -at that time, to be shown. Choreographed by Ninette de Valois, it was a -ballet in five scenes with both its scenario and its music by Robert -Gerhard, with scenery and costumes by Edward Burra. - -The story, of course, was the Cervantes tale. It was not a “dancing” -ballet, in the sense that it had no virtuoso passages. But it told its -story, nevertheless, through the medium of dance rather than by mime and -acting. My outstanding impressions of it are the splendid score, Margot -Fonteyn’s outstanding characterization of a dual role, and the shrewdly -observed Sancho Panza of the young Alexander Grant. - -_Dante Sonata_ was, in a sense, a collaborative work by Frederick Ashton -and Constant Lambert. Its date is 1940. Its scenery and costumes are by -Sophie Fedorovich. The music is the long piano sonata by Franz Liszt, -_D’après une lecture de Dante_, utilizing the poem by Victor Hugo. The -orchestration of the piano work by Lambert, with its use of Chinese -tam-tam and gong, is singularly effective. - -At the time of its production, there was a story in general circulation -to the effect that Ashton found his inspiration for the work in the -sufferings of the Polish people at the hands of the Nazi invaders. This -appears not to have been the case. The truth of the matter seems to have -been that at about the time he was planning the work, Ashton was deeply -moved by the death of a close and dear relative. The chief influence -would, therefore, seem to be this, and thus to account for the -choreographer’s savagery against the inevitability and immutability of -death. - -It is not, in any sense, a classical work, for Ashton, in order to -portray the contorted and writhing spirits, went to the “free” or -“modern” dance for appropriate movements. While, in the wide open spaces -of America, it did not fulfil the provincial audiences’ ideas of what -they expected from ballet, nevertheless it had some twenty-nine -performances in the United States and Canada. - -The second American season opened at the Metropolitan Opera House, on -Sunday evening, 10th September, 1950. Again it was hot. The full-length -_Le Lac des Cygnes_ (_Swan Lake_) was the opening programme. The evening -was a repetition of the previous year: capacity, cheering houses, with -special cheers for Fonteyn. - -The demand for seats on the part of the New York public was even greater -than the year before, with a larger number consequently disappointed and -unable to get into the Metropolitan at all. - -From the company’s point of view, aside from hard work--daily classes, -rehearsals, and eight performances a week--there was a round of -entertainment for them, the most outstanding, perhaps, being the day -they spent as the guests of J. Alden Talbot at Smoke Rise, his New -Jersey estate. - -The last night’s programme at the Metropolitan season was _The Sleeping -Beauty_. The final night’s reception matched that of the first. Ninette -de Valois’ charming curtain speech, in which she announced another visit -on the part of the company to New York--“but not for some -time”--couldn’t keep the curtain down, and the calls continued until it -was necessary to turn up the house lights. - -Following the New York engagement, Sadler’s Wells embarked on the -longest tour of its history, and the most successful tour in the history -of ballet. - -The New York season extended from 10th September to 1st October. The -company appeared in the following cities: Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, -Atlanta, Birmingham, New Orleans, Houston, Los Angeles, San Francisco, -Sacramento, Denver, Lincoln, Des Moines, Omaha, Tulsa, Dallas, Oklahoma -City, Memphis, St. Louis, Bloomington, Lafayette, Detroit, Cleveland, -Cincinnati, Chicago, Winnipeg, Boston, White Plains, Toronto, Ottawa, -Montreal, and Quebec. - -Starting on the 10th September, in New York, the tour closed in Quebec -City on 28th January, 1951. - -In thirty-two cities, during a period of five months, the people of this -continent had paid more than two million and one-half dollars to see the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet. On Election Eve in London, David Webster had -asked me if I could guarantee them their expenses and a profit. - -On the first tour the company covered some ten thousand miles. On the -second tour, this was extended to some twenty-one thousand. - -The box-office records that were broken by the company could only add to -the burden of statistics. Suffice it to say, they were many. History -was made: the sort of history that can be made again only by the next -Sadler’s Wells tour. - -Some idea of the magnitude of the transportation and railroading -problems involved in an extended tour of this sort may be gathered from -the fact that the “Sadler’s Wells Special” consisted of six Pullman -sleeping cars, six baggage cars, and two dining cars, together with a -club-bar-lounge car on long journeys. - -I made it a point to be with the company at all the larger cities. I -left them at Philadelphia, and awaited their arrival in Los Angeles. -Neither I nor Los Angeles has ever seen anything like the opening night -of their engagement at the enormous Shrine Auditorium, or like the -entire engagement, as a matter of fact. - -Because of a company rule that, on opening nights and in the case of -parties of official or semi-official greeting nature, the entire -personnel of the company and staff should attend in a body, an -unfortunate situation arose in Los Angeles. A Beverly Hills group had -announced a large party to which some of the company had been invited, -without having cleared the matter in advance. The resultant situation -was such that the advertised and publicized party was cancelled. - -The sudden cancellation left the company without a party with which to -relieve the strain of the long trek to the Pacific Coast, and the tense -excitement of the first performance in the world’s film capital. As a -consequence, I arranged to give a large party to the entire company and -staff, in conjunction with Edwin Lester, the Director of the Los Angeles -Civic Light Opera Association, and the local sponsor of the engagement. -The party took place at the Ambassador Hotel, where the entire company -was housed during the engagement, with its city within a city, its -palm-shaded swimming-pool. - -As master of ceremonies and guest of honor, we invited Charles Chaplin, -distinguished artist and famous Briton. Among the distinguished guests -from the film world were, among many others, Ezio Pinza, Edward G. -Robinson, Greer Garson, Barry Fitzgerald, Gene Tierney, Cyd Charisse, -Joseph Cotton, Louis Hayward. - -Chaplin was a unique master of ceremonies, urbane, gentle, witty. As -judge of a ballroom dancing contest, Chaplin awarded the prize to -Herbert Hughes, non-dancer and the company’s general manager. - -At the end of this phenomenal engagement, the company bade _au revoir_ -to Los Angeles and the many friends they had made in the film colony, -and entrained for San Francisco for an engagement at that finest of all -American opera houses, the War Memorial. I have an especial fondness for -San Francisco, its atmosphere, its spirit, its people, its food. Yet a -curious fact remains: of all the larger American cities, it is coolest -in its outward reception of all forms of art. Even with Sadler’s Wells, -San Francisco followed its formal pattern. It was the more startling in -contrast with its sister city in the south. The demonstrations there -were such that they had to be cut off in order to permit the -performances to continue and thus end before the small hours; the Los -Angeles audiences seemed determined not to let the company go. By -contrast, the San Francisco audiences were perfunctorily polite in their -applause. I have never been able quite to understand it. - -In the case of the Sadler’s Wells _première_ at the War Memorial Opera -House, San Francisco, the company was enchanted with the building: a -real opera house, a good stage, a place in which to work in comfort. The -opening night audience had been attracted not only by interest in the -company, but as charity contributors to a home for unmarried mothers. -The bulk of the stalls and boxes were socially minded. They arrived -late, from dinners and parties. _The Sleeping Beauty_ must start at the -advertised time because of its length. It cannot wait for late-comers. -There was an unconscionable confusion in the darkened opera house as the -audience rattled down the aisles, chattering, greeting friends, and -shattering the spell of the Prologue, disturbing those who had taken the -trouble to arrive on time as much as they did the artists on the stage. -My concern on this point is as much for the audience as for the dancers. -A ballet, being a work of art, is conceived as an entity, from beginning -to end, from the first notes of the overture, till the last one of the -coda. The whole is the sum of its parts. The noisy and inconsiderate -late-comers, by destroying parts, greatly damage the whole. - -The War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco, although a municipal -property, has a divided executive in that its physical control is in the -hands of the local chapter of the American Legion, which make the rules -and regulations for its operation. I do not know of any theatre with -more locked doors, more red tape and more annoying, hampering -regulations. - -There is, to be sure, a certain positive virtue in the rule that forbids -any unauthorized person to be permitted to pass from the auditorium to -the stage by ways of the pass-door between the two. But, like any rule, -it must be administered with discretion. The keeper of the pass-door at -the War Memorial Opera House is a gentleman known as the “Colonel,” to -whom, I feel, “orders is orders,” without the leavening of either -discretion or plain “horse sense.” - -On the opening night of Sadler’s Wells, a list of names of the persons -authorized to pass had been given to this functionary by checking the -names on the theatre programme. When Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E., D. -Litt., Director of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, attempted to go back stage -after the first act of _The Sleeping Beauty_, she was stopped at the -pass-door by the guardian “Colonel.” - -Very simply she told him, “I am Ninette de Valois.” - -That meant nothing to the “Colonel.” - -“Madame’s” name, he pointed out, was not checked off. It was not even -printed on the “official” staff. In another part of the programme, there -it was in small type. But the “Colonel” was adamant. Horatio at the -bridge could not have been more formidable. He was a composite of St. -Peter at the gate and St. Michael with his flaming sword. - -While all this was going on, I was in the imposing, marble-sheathed -front lobby of the Opera House, in conversation with critics and San -Francisco friends, sharing their enthusiasm, when I suddenly felt my -coat tails being sharply pulled. The first tug I was sure was some -mistake, and I pretended not to notice it. Then my coat tails were -tugged at again, unmistakably yanked. - -“What is it?” I thought. “_Who_ is it?” - -I turned quickly, and found a tense, white-faced “Madame” looking at me, -as she might transfix either a dancer who had fallen on his face, or a -Cabinet Minister with whom she had taken issue. - -“What’s wrong?” I asked. - -“The man,” she said, pointing in the direction of the pass-door, -“wouldn’t let me through.” Crisply she added, “He didn’t know who I was. -This is disgraceful, absolutely disgraceful. Unforgivable, I _must_ -say.” - -She turned quickly on her heel and disappeared. - -I was greatly upset, and immediately took steps to have the oversight -corrected. I was miserable. - -I sent for “Bertie” Hughes, the able general manager of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet company, told him what had happened, explained how -distressed I was over the stupid incident. - -Hughes smiled his quiet smile. - -“Come on, have a drink and forget it,” he said. “‘Madame’ will have -forgotten all about it within five minutes of watching the performance.” - -As we sipped our drink, I was filled with mortification that “Madame,” -of all people, should have run afoul of a too literal interpreter of the -regulations. - -“Look here,” said Hughes, “cheer up, don’t be disturbed.” - -But the evening had been spoiled for me. - -A really splendid party followed, given by H. M. Consul General in honor -of the company, at San Francisco’s Bohemian Club. The Bohemian Club is -one of San Francisco’s genuine landmarks, a famous organization of -artists, writers, professional and business men, whose “High Jinks” and -“Low Jinks” in midsummer are among the cultural highlights of the area. - -Dispirited, I went only from a sense of duty. It turned out to be one of -the fine parties of the entire tour; but I was fatigued, distraught, and -the de Valois contretemps still oppressed me. I helped myself to some -food, and hid away in a corner. I was, to put it bluntly, in a vile -mood. - -Again I felt my coat tails being tugged. “Who is it this time?” I -thought. It was not my favorite manner of being greeted, I decided, -there and then. - -Cautiously I turned. Again it was “Madame.” - -“What’s the trouble?” she asked, now all solicitude. “Why are you hiding -in a corner? You don’t look well. Shouldn’t you see a doctor?” - -“I don’t need a doctor.” - -“Surely, something is wrong with you. You look pale, and it’s not the -very least bit like you to be off sulking in a corner. What’s the -trouble?” - -“The insult to you,” I said. - -I remembered what Hughes had said, when “Madame” replied: “Insult? -Insult?... What insult? Did you insult me?... What on earth _are_ you -talking about?” - -There was no point, I felt, in reminding her of the incident. - -“When you want to speak to me,” I said, “must you pull my coat off my -back?” - -“The next time I shall do it harder,” she said with her very individual -little laugh. “Don’t you think we have been here long enough?... Come -along now, take us home.” - -This is Ninette de Valois. - - * * * * * - -Following the San Francisco engagement, the company turned east to the -Rocky Mountain area, the South and Middle West, to arrive in Chicago for -Christmas. - -The Chicago engagement was but a repetition of every city where the -company appeared: sold-out houses, almost incredible enthusiasm. _The -Sleeping Beauty_ was the opening programme. Because of the magnitude of -the production, it was impossible to present it except in New York, Los -Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, and Boston. Both public and press were -loud in their praises of the company, the production, the music. - -Another delightful piece of hospitality was the party given at the -Racquet Club in Chicago, following the first performance by Ruth Page, -the well-known American dancer and choreographer, and her husband, -Thomas Hart Fisher. Not only was there a wonderful champagne supper in -the Club’s Refectory, at which the members of the company were the first -to be served; but this was followed by a cabaret, the climax of which -came when Margot, in a striking Dior gown of green, stepped down to -essay the intricate steps of a new and unknown (to her) South American -ball-room rhythm. She had never before seen or heard of the dance, but -it was a joy to watch the musicality she brought to it. - -It is not my custom to visit artists in the theatre before a -performance, unless there has been some complaint, some annoyance, some -trouble of some sort, something to straighten out. However, on this -opening night in Chicago, I happened to be back stage in the Opera House -on some errand. Since I was so close, I felt I wanted to wish the -artists good-luck for their first Chicago performance, and, passing, -knocked at Margot’s dressing-room door. - -No reply. - -I waited. - -I knocked again. - -No answer. - -Puzzled, I walked away to return ten minutes later. - -I knocked again. - -Again no answer. - -Worried, I opened the door. - -“Don’t you hear me, Margot?” I asked. - -Without glancing up, there came two words, no more. Two words, bitten -off, crisp and sharp: - -“G-e-t O--u--t!” - -It was utterly unlike her. What had happened? I could not imagine. We -had dined together the night before, together with “Freddy” Ashton, -“Bobby” Helpmann and Moira Shearer. It had been a gay dinner, jolly. -Margot had been her witty, amusing self. She had, I knew, been eagerly -awaiting a letter from Paris, a letter from a particular friend. Perhaps -it had not come. Perhaps it had. Whatever it was, I reasoned, at least -it was not my fault. I was not to blame. - -We met after the performance at the party. I was puzzled. - -“Are you angry at me?” I asked her. - -“I?” She smiled an uncomprehending smile. “Why on earth should I be -angry at you?” - -“You didn’t answer when I knocked at your door several times, and then, -when I spoke, you told me, in no uncertain fashion, to get out.” - -“Don’t you know that, before a performance, I won’t talk to anyone?” she -said sternly. - -Then she kissed me. - -“Don’t take me too seriously,” she smiled, patting me on the shoulder, -“but, remember, I don’t want to see _anyone_ before I go on.” - - -_MARGOT FONTEYN_ - -In Margot Fonteyn we have, in my opinion, the greatest _ballerina_ of -the western world, the greatest _ballerina_ of the world of ballet as we -know it. Born Margaret Hookham, in Surrey, in 1919, the daughter of an -English businessman father and a dark-skinned, dark-haired mother of -Irish and Brazilian ancestry, who is sometimes known as the Black Queen -in the company, a reference to one of the leading characters in -_Checkmate_. Margot was taken to China as a small child, where the -family home was in Shanghai. There was also an interim period when she -was a pupil in a school in such a characteristically American city as -Louisville, Kentucky. - -Margot tells a story to the effect that she was taken as a child to see -a performance by Pavlova, and that she was not particularly impressed. -It would be much better “copy,” infinitely better for publicity -purposes, to have her say that visit changed the whole course of her -life and that, from that moment, she determined not only to be a dancer, -but to become Pavlova’s successor. But Margot Fonteyn is an honest -person. - -Her first dancing lessons came in Shanghai, at the hands of the Russian -dancer and teacher, Goncharov. Back in London, she studied with -Seraphina Astafieva, in the same Chelsea studio that had produced -Markova and Dolin. At the age of fourteen, her mother took her, -apparently not with too much willingness on Margot’s part, up to the -Wells in Islington, to the Sadler’s Wells School. Ninette de Valois is -said to have announced after her first class, in the decisive manner of -“Madame,” a manner which brooks no dissent: “That child has talent.” - -Fonteyn, in the early days, harbored no ideas of becoming a _ballerina_. -Her idealization of that remote peak of accomplishment was Karsavina, -the one-time bright, shining star of the Diaghileff Ballet. All of which -is not to say that Margot did not work hard, did not enjoy dancing. In -class, in rehearsal, in performance, Fonteyn developed her own -individuality, her own personality, without copying or imitating, -consciously or unconsciously, any other artist. - -It was after Markova left Sadler’s Wells to form her own company in -association with Dolin that Fonteyn began to come into her own. Ninette -de Valois had a plan, to which, like all her plans, she adhered. She had -been grooming Fonteyn to take Markova’s place. The fact that she has -done so is a matter of history, record, and fact. This is not the place -for a catalogue of Fonteyn’s roles, or a list of her individual -triumphs. Margot Fonteyn is very much with us, before us, among us, at -the height of her powers. She speaks for herself. I merely want to give -the reader enough background so that he may know the basic elements -which have gone into the making of Margot Fonteyn, _prima ballerina -assoluta_. - -As a dancer, I find her appeal to me is two-fold: first as a pure -classical dancer; second as an actress-dancer, by which I mean a dancer -with a fine ability to characterize. This is important, for it implies -few, if any, limitations. Pavlova, as I have pointed out, was free from -limitations in the same way and, I think, to a similar degree. Anna -Pavlova had a wide variety: she was a superb dramatic dancer in -_Giselle_; she was equally at home in the brittle, glamorous _Fairy -Doll_; as the light-hearted protagonist of the _Rondino_; as the -bright-colored flirt of the Tchaikowsky _Christmas_. Tamara Karsavina -ranged the gamut from _Carnaval_, _Les Sylphides_, and _Pavillon -d’Armide_, on the one hand, to _Schéhérazade_, _Thamar_, and the -Miller’s Wife in _The Three-Cornered Hat_, on the other, doing all with -equal skill and artistry. In the same way, Fonteyn ranges, with equal -perfection from the Princess Aurora of _The Sleeping Beauty_, the title -role of _Cinderella_, and _Mam’zelle Angot_, the Millers wife in _The -Three-Cornered Hat_, the tragic Giselle, Swanilda in _Coppélia_, the -peasant Dulcinia in _Don Quixote_, on the one hand, to the pure, -abstract dancing appeal of her lyrical roles in ballets such as -_Symphonic Variations_, _Scènes de Ballet_, _Ballet Imperial_, and -_Dante Sonata_, on the other. - -As a dancer, Fonteyn is freer of mannerisms than any other _ballerina_ I -have known, devoid of tricks and those stunts sometimes called -“showmanship” that are so often mere vulgar lapses from taste. About -everything she does there is a strange combination of purity of style -with a striking individuality that I can only identify and explain by -that overworked term, “personality.” She has a superb carriage, the taut -back of the perfect dancer, the faultless line and the ankles of the -true _ballerina_. Over all is a great suppleness: the sort of suppleness -that can make even an unexpected fall a thing of beauty. For -_ballerinas_ sometimes fall, even as ordinary mortals. One such fall -occurred on Fonteyn’s first entrance in the nation’s capital, before a -gala audience at the Washington _première_ of Sadler’s Wells, with an -audience that included President Truman, Sir Oliver Franks, and the -entire diplomatic corps. - -The cramped, ill-suited platform of Constitution Hall, was an -inadequate, makeshift excuse for a stage. As Fonteyn entered to the -resounding applause of thousands, she slipped on a loose board and fell, -but gracefully and with such beauty that those in the audience who did -not know might easily have thought it was a part of the choreographer’s -design. - -On the company’s return to London, at the close of the tour, the entire -personnel were the guests at a formal dinner tendered to them by H. M. -Government. The late Sir Stafford Cripps, then Chancellor of the -Exchequer, gave the first toast to Fonteyn. Turning to her, Sir -Stafford, in proposing the toast, said: “My dear lady, it has been -brought to my attention that, in making your first entry into the -American capital, you fell flat on your face.” - -The Chancellor paused for an instant as he eyed her in mock severity, -then added: “I beg you not to take it too much to heart. It is not the -first time, nor, I feel sure, will it be the last, when your countrymen -will be obliged to assume that same prostrate position on entering that -city.” - -To sum up my impressions of Fonteyn, the dancer, I should be - -[Illustration: - -_Angus McBean_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Frederick Ashton, Ninette de Valois, Leonide -Massine] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Beryl Grey as the Princess -Aurora] - -[Illustration: _Baron_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Nadia Nerina in _Façade_] - -[Illustration: Roland Petit - -_Germaine Kanova_] - -[Illustration: - - _Roger Wood_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Margot Fonteyn and Alexander Grant in -_Tiresias_] - -[Illustration: - -_Magnum_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: John Field and Violetta Elvin] - -[Illustration: - - _Baron_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: _Le Lac des Cygnes_--John Field and Beryl Grey] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Last Act of _Le Lac des Cygnes_ - - _Baron_ -] - -[Illustration: - -_Magnum_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: _Giselle_--Robert Helpmann and Margot Fonteyn] - -[Illustration: - -_Baron_ - -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: Elaine Fifield as Swanilda in _Coppélia_] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: David Blair and Svetlana -Beriosova in _Coppélia_ - -_Roger Wood_ -] - -[Illustration: - -_Baron_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: _A Wedding Bouquet_] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Act I. _The Sleeping Beauty_--The -Princess falls beneath the spell of Carabosse - -_Baron_ -] - -[Illustration: Agnes de Mille] - -[Illustration: John Lanchbery, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet - - _Denis de Marney_ -] - -[Illustration: John Hollingsworth, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Ballet - -_Maurice Seymour_ -] - -[Illustration: Robert Irving, Musical Director, Sadler’s Wells Ballet - - _Baron_ -] - -[Illustration: The Sadler’s Wells production of _The Sleeping Beauty_: -Puss-in-Boots] - -[Illustration: Robert Helpmann as the Rake in _The Rake’s Progress_ - -_Baron_ -] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Rowena Jackson as Odile in _Le Lac -des Cygnes_ - - _Derek Allen_ -] - -[Illustration: Colette Marchand - -_Lido_] - -[Illustration: - - _Baron_ - -Moira Shearer] - -[Illustration: Moira Shearer and Daughter - -_Central Press Photo_ -] - -[Illustration: - -_Baron_ - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: _Symphonic Variations_--Moira Shearer, Margot -Fonteyn, Michael Somes, Pamela May - -_Baron_ -] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: America is closer: loading at Port -of London] - -[Illustration: Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Scenery and costumes start the -trek for America - - _Acme-PA_ -] - -[Illustration: _Gyenes_ - -Antonio Spanish Ballet: Antonio] - -[Illustration: Antonio Spanish Ballet: _Serenada_ - -_Gyenes_] - -doing her something less than justice if I failed to call attention to a -supreme quality in her work, viz., that quality of implied ease in all -she does, bringing unstrained pleasure to the onlooker; coupled as it is -with a spiritual quality with which her performances seem to shimmer. -All these things, so far as I am concerned, add up to a _ballerina_ -absolutely unique in my experience. - -Margot Fonteyn is, to me, the true artist, because a great dancer must -be a human being before she is an artist; her art must, in the last -resort, be the expression of her personal attitude to life. She is -many-sided; and the wonder is that she is able to have this breadth of -cultural outlook when so much of her time has had to be spent in -acquiring technique, dealing with its problems and the means of -expression. - -No amount of technique, no amount of technical brilliance or recondite -knowledge will hide the paucity of emotion or intellect in an artist’s -make-up. Technique, after all, is no more than the alphabet and the -words of an art, and it is only the difficulty of acquiring a -superlative technique that has led so many astray. But along what a -fatal path they have been led! How often are we told that the true -artist must devote her whole energies to her art, without the -realization that art is the highest expression of mankind and has value -only in so far as it is enriched with the blood of life. - -As for Fonteyn, the person, whom I love and admire, I have no gossip to -offer, few anecdotes, no whisperings. About her there is not the -slightest trace of pose, pretentiousness, or pettiness. While she is -conscious she is a great _ballerina_, one of the top-ranking artists in -any art in the world today, she is equally conscious she is a human -being. Basically, she is shy and quite humble. Splendidly poised, -immaculately and impeccably groomed, chic in an international rather -than in a Parisian sense, she is definitely an elegant person. The -elegance of her private appearance she carries over into her appearance -as a _ballerina_. Anna Pavlova, of all other dancers I have known, had -this same quality. - -Usually Margot dresses in colors that are on the dark side, like her own -personal coloring. Small-featured, small-boned, her clothes, exquisite -in cut, are strikingly simple. She is not given to jewelry, save for -earrings without which I cannot remember ever having seen her. She is -remarkably beautiful, but not in the G.I. pin-up type sense. Again there -is the similarity to Anna Pavlova, who would look elegant and _chic_ -today in any _salon_ or drawing-room, because her elegance was -timeless. By all this, I do not mean to suggest that Fonteyn’s Christian -Dior evening frocks and day dresses are not modish, but nothing she -wears suggests the “latest word.” - -One more word about her actions. I have mentioned her complete lack of -pretentiousness. I should like to emphasize her equal lack of apparent -awareness of her exalted position in her chosen calling. With the -company, she makes no demands, puts on no airs. There is no false -grandeur and none of the so-called “temperament” that many lesser -_ballerinas_ feel called upon to display upon the slightest provocation, -and often upon no provocation at all. She is one who submits to the -discipline of a great and continuous and uninterrupted and secure -company. Fonteyn works as hard, with daily classes and rehearsals, -mayhap harder, as any other of the large personnel. Her relations with -the company are on the same plane. When the company travels in buses, -Margot piles into the buses with them, joins in with the company at all -times, is a member of it and an inspiration to it. The company, -individually and collectively, love her and have the highest respect for -her. - -Margot’s warning to me not to try to disturb her before a performance -had nothing to do with pose or “temperament.” It is simply that in order -to live up to her reputation she has a duty, exactly as she has a duty -to the role she is to enact, and because of these things, she has the -artist’s natural nervousness increased before the rise of the curtain. -She must be alone and silent with her thoughts in order to have herself -under complete control and be at her best. - -In all ballet I have never known a finer colleague, or one possessed of -a greater amount of genuine good-heartedness. The examples of this sort -of thing are endless, but one incident pointing it up stands out in my -mind. - -A certain American _ballerina_ was on a visit to London. Margot invited -this American girl to go to Paris with her. “Freddy” Ashton was also -coming along, she said, and it would be fun. - -“I can’t go,” replied the American _ballerina_. “I’ve nothing to wear -that’s fit to be seen in Paris.” - -“Come, come, don’t be silly,” replied Margot. “Here, take this suit of -mine. I’ve never worn it.” - -And she handed over a new Christian Dior creation. - -Now Margot at that time was by no means too blessed with the world’s -goods, and could not afford a new Dior outfit too often. - -On their arrival in Paris, the group telephoned me at the Meurice and -came to see me. Turning to the American _ballerina_, a long-time friend -of mine, I could not help admiring her appearance. - -“Where _did_ you get that beautiful suit?” I enquired. - -“Margot gave it to me, isn’t she sweet?” she replied, quite simply. - -This is Margot Fonteyn: always ready to share with others; always -thinking of others, least of all, of herself. - -The following incident sums up the Margot Fonteyn I know and love. On -the final night of the second American tour, after the last performance, -I gave a farewell supper for the entire company at the Chateau -Frontenac, in Quebec City. There were speeches, of which more later. -When they were over, a _corps de ballet_ member spontaneously rose to -propose a toast to Margot Fonteyn, on her great personal triumph in -North America. The rounds of applause that followed the toast reminded -me of the opening night at the Metropolitan in New York. That applause -had come from an audience of paying customers, who had just witnessed a -new dancer scoring a triumph in an exciting performance. The applause -that went on for minutes and minutes, came from her own colleagues, many -of whom had grown up with her from the School. My eyes were moist. After -a long time, Fonteyn rose to thank them. In doing so, she reminded them -that a _ballerina_ was only as good as her surroundings and that it was -impossible for a _ballerina_ to exist without the perfect setting, which -they provided. - -Here was a great artist, the greatest living _ballerina_ we of the -western world know, with all her triumphs, all her successes about her, -at the apex of her career; very much of the present, here was the true -artist, the loyal comrade, the humble, grateful human being. - -From Chicago, a long journey to Winnipeg for a four-day engagement to be -filled at the request of the British Council and David Webster, -following a suggestion from H. M. the King. Winnipeg had suffered -shocking damage from floods, and His Majesty had promised Winnipeg a -visit from the Ballet while it was in America as a gala to lift the -spirits of the people. - -Here the company had its first taste of real cold, for the thermometer -dropped to thirty-two degrees below zero. The result was that when it -came time to entrain for the journey half-way across the continent to -Boston, the next point on the itinerary, the baggage car doors were so -frozen that they had to be opened with blowtorches and charges of -explosives. - -It was a four-day and three-night journey from Winnipeg to Boston, in -sub-zero, stormy weather. The intense cold slowed the locomotives and -froze the storage batteries, with the result that save for the -lounge-bar car, the cars were in complete darkness and were dimly -lighted at bed-time by a few spluttering candles. The severe cold had -also caused the steam lines in the train to freeze, so that the -temperature inside the cars was such that all made the journey wrapped -in overcoats and blankets, wearing the heterogeneous collection of -ear-lapped caps which they had purchased, even to North-west Canadian -wool and fur shakos that blossomed in Winnipeg. Somewhere east of -Chicago the “Sadler’s Wells Special” got itself behind the wreck of a -freight train which had blocked the tracks, necessitating a long detour -over the tracks of another railway, causing still further delays. Nine -hours late, the ice-covered train bearing a company that had gone -through the most gruelling train adventure of the tour, limped into -Boston’s South Station. - -There followed a tense period, for the minimum time required to set and -light _The Sleeping Beauty_ is twelve hours. It was another case of -“touch and go.” Two hours were required to get the train broken up and -all the scenery cars placed for unloading; then the procession of great -trucks from the cars to the Opera House commenced; there followed the -unloading, the taking-in, the hanging, the setting, the installation of -all the heavy and complicated lighting equipment, for the theatres of -America, for the most part, are either poorly equipped or not at all, -and the Boston Opera House is in the latter category. Hundreds of -costumes had to be unpacked, pressed, and distributed. But such is the -efficiency of the Sadler’s Wells organization, its general stage -director, the late Louis Yudkin, and our own American staff, together -with the valued assistance of the Boston local manager, Aaron Richmond, -that the curtain rose at the appointed minute. - -I had gone to Boston for the duration of the engagement there. Bearing -in mind the extensive travelling the company had had, climaxed by the -harrowing journey from Winnipeg, I was concerned about their fatigue and -also how it might affect the quality of the performance. My memory of -the Boston _première_ of _The Sleeping Beauty_ is that it was one of the -very best I had seen anywhere. Sir Oliver Franks, the British -Ambassador, and Lady Franks, together with Lord Wakehurst, head of the -English-Speaking Union, one of the Governors of the Covent Garden Opera -Trust, and now Governor-General of Northern Ireland, came to Boston for -the opening, and greeted the company at a delightful supper and -reception following the performance. Lord Wakehurst has been a veritable -tower of strength in the development of international cultural relations -during the Sadler’s Wells tours; together with Lady Wakehurst, he is a -charming host whose hospitality I have enjoyed in their London home. - -The interest of Sir Oliver Franks, Lord Wakehurst, and the British -Council as evidenced throughout the entire tour, together with the -splendid cooperation of the English-Speaking Union, all helped in one of -the main reasons for the tour, quite apart from any dollars the company -might be able to garner. That was the extension of cultural relations -between the two great English-speaking nations. - -Cultural relations are basically a matter of links between individuals -rather than links between governments, and such a tour as Sadler’s Wells -made, bringing the richness of British ballet to hundreds of thousands -of individuals, helps develop those private relationships; and the sum -of them presents a comprehensive picture of Britain to the world. In our -struggle for peace in the world, nothing is more essential than cultural -understanding. It should be pointed out that the British Council does -not send overseas companies primarily for financial gain, and its policy -in these matters is not dictated by financial considerations. - -The charter of UNESCO states that since wars begin in the minds of men, -it is in the minds of men that the defenses of peace must be -constructed. Personally, I am inclined to doubt if wars ever begin in -the minds of men, but I should be the last to dispute that it is in the -minds of men that the defenses of peace must be constructed. - -It was on the 28th January, 1951, that the greatest ballet tour in North -American history came to an end in Quebec City. It was a night of mixed -feelings. The company was, of course, eager to get home to London, and -also had a longing to continue here. There were the tugs of parting on -the part of our American staff. Our American Sadler’s Wells Orchestra, -forty-odd strong, the largest orchestra to tour with a ballet company in -America, adored the company and the curtain had to be held on the last -ballet on the programme, for the entire orchestra lined up to collect -autographed photographs of their favorites, and refused to heed the -orchestra personnel manager’s frantic pleas to enter the pit before each -musician had his treasured picture. It was quite unusual, I assure you, -for musicians are not noted for their interest in a _ballerina_. A -sentimental, romantic interest between a musician and a dancer is -something quite different, and is not at all unusual. - -Although it was Sunday night, when the “blue laws” of Quebec frown upon -music, gaiety, and alcohol, we managed, nevertheless, to have a genuine -farewell celebration, which took the form of an after-performance dinner -at the Chateau Frontenac. The company got into their evening-clothes for -the last time on this side of the Atlantic, piled into buses at the -theatre and returned to the hotel, while the “Sadler’s Wells Special” -that was to take them back to Montreal, waited at the station. It waited -a long time, for the night’s celebration at the Chateau lasted until -four-thirty in the morning. It was a festive affair, with as fine a -dinner as could be prepared, and the wines and champagne were both -excellent and ample. We had set up a pre-dinner cocktail room in one of -the Chateau’s private rooms, and had taken the main restaurant, the -great hall of the Chateau, for the dinner. Before the dancing -commenced--yes, despite the long tour, despite the two days the company -had spent skiing and tobogganing in Quebec, with three performances in -an inadequate theatre, they danced--the dessert was served. I should -like to list the entire menu, but the dessert will give an indication of -its nature. The lights in the great dining room were extinguished, the -orchestra struck a chord, and a long line of waiters entered each -bearing flaming platters of _Omelette Norvegienne Flambée des -Mignardires_. - -The guests included the Premier of Quebec and officials of the Quebec -Government. The only note that dimmed the gaiety of the occasion was the -absence of Dame Ninette de Valois and David Webster, both in London -preparing for the new season. It was not an occasion for long speeches; -our hearts and our stomachs were too full. However, I expressed my -sincere thanks to the entire organization and, in the absence of -“Madame” and Webster, Herbert Hughes, the general manager of the Ballet, -replied, and announced to the company the figures for the tour, amidst -cheers. Then followed the touching incident of the toast to Fonteyn I -have mentioned. - -Before the dancing began, a sudden mania for autographs started, with -everybody collecting every other person’s autograph on the large, -specially printed menus, which I had previously autographed. Apparently -all wanted a menu as a souvenir of a venture that had gone down in the -annals of ballet and entertainment as the greatest success of all time. - -From then on the dancing was general, the gaiety waxed higher. I was -doing a _schottische_ with the two-hundred-fifty pound Cockney Chief -Carpenter, Horace Fox, when one of my staff who was responsible for -transportation slid up to the orchestra leader and whispered “The King!” -We all stood silently at attention for the last time. It was well past -four in the morning, and it was to be yet another case of “touch and go” -if the “Sadler’s Wells Special” could make Montreal in time for the -departure of the special BOAC planes which were to take the company back -to London. - -The company changed into traveling clothes as quickly as possible, and -buses slithered down the steep slopes of Quebec to the Station, where -harried railroad officials were holding the train. There was yet another -delay for one person who was left behind on urgent business, finally to -be seen coming, with two porters carrying his open bags and yet another -bellboy with unpacked clothes and toilet articles. As the last of the -retinue was pushed aboard, the train started. But it was long before -sleep came, and for another two hours the party continued up and down -the length of the train, in compartments, bedrooms, washrooms, as staff, -orchestra, stage-hands broke all unwritten laws of fraternization. - -All were asleep, however, when the train swayed violently and with -groaning and bumping came to a sudden stop. It was the last journey and -it, of course, simply had to happen. The flanges on the wheels of two of -the baggage cars that had made the 21,000-mile journey gave way just as -the train started the long crossing of the Three Rivers Bridge between -Quebec and Montreal. Fortunately, we were moving slowly at the approach -to the bridge, slowing down for the crossing, or else--I shudder to -think what might have occurred if we had been trying to make up -time--the greatest tour of history would have ended in a ghastly -tragedy. - -As a result of the derailment taking place on the bridge, we were hours -late arriving in Montreal. But the tour was over! - -Here was a tour where every record of every sort had been broken. It had -reached the point where, if there was a pair of unoccupied seats in any -auditorium from coast to coast and back again, we were all likely to -feel as if the end of the world was at hand. I have mentioned the -mundane matter of the financial returns. From a critical point of view, -I cannot attempt to summarize the spate of eulogy that greeted the -company in every city. Cynics may have something to say about this, to -the effect that the critics had been overpowered by size and glamor. -But a careful consideration of it all, a sober analysis, disproves any -suggestion that this was the result of any uncritical rush of blood to -the head. On the contrary, it reveals that the critical faculty was -carefully exercised and that the collective testimony to the excellence -of Sadler’s Wells was based on sound appreciation. - -It is impossible for me to bring to a close this phase of the concise -history of the association in ballet of which I am the proudest in my -life without sketching an outline of the quartet that makes Sadler’s -Wells the great institution it is, together with a few of the -outstanding personalities that give it color and are such an important -part of it. - -The list is long, and lack of space limits my consideration to a few. -First of all, let me pay tribute to that directorial triumvirate to -whom, collectively and individually, Sadler’s Wells owes its existence -and its superior place in the world of ballet in our time: Ninette de -Valois, Frederick Ashton, and Constant Lambert. Lamentably, the -triumvirate is now a duo, owing to the recent untimely passing of the -third member. - - -_NINETTE DE VALOIS_ - -I have more than once indicated my own deep admiration for Ninette de -Valois and have sketched, as best I can, her tremendous contribution. In -all my experience of artists, I have never known a harder worker, a more -single-purposed practical idealist, a more concentrated and devoted -human being. In addition to being the chief executive of Sadler’s Wells, -burdened with the responsibility for two ballet companies and a school, -she is a striking creator. - -Living with her husband-physician down in Surrey, she does her marketing -before she leaves home in the morning for the Garden; travels up on the -suburban train; spends long hours at her work; goes back to Surrey, -often late at night, sometimes to prepare dinner, since the servant -problem in Britain is acute; and has been known to tidy up her husband’s -surgery for the next morning, before herself calling it a day. All this, -day in and day out, is done with zest and vigor. - -An idealist she is and yet, at the same time, completely realistic. -Without wishing to cast the remotest reflection on the feminine sex, I -would say that Ninette de Valois has a masculine mind in her approach to -problems artistic or business, and to life itself. She feels things -passionately, and these qualities are apparent in everything she does. -When her mind is made up, there is no budging her. In a less intelligent -person this might be labelled stubbornness. - -Like the majority of English dancers, prior to her establishment of a -British national ballet, she was brought up in the traditions of Russian -ballet. But it should be remembered that she was the first one to break -up the foundation of the Russian tradition, utilizing its richness to -create an English national school. At Sadler’s Wells, in collaboration -with Constant Lambert, she has devoted a great deal of attention to the -music of our time, although this has never taken the form of any denial -or repudiation of the tradition of the old Russian school--on the -contrary, her work at Sadler’s Wells has been a continuation and -development of that school, using the new to enrich the old. - -As a person with whom to work, I find her completely fascinating. I have -never known any one even faintly like her. Her magnificent sense of -organization is but one aspect of what I have called her “masculinity” -of mind. Figures as well as _fouettés_ are a part of her life. She is -adept at handling both situations and individuals. Her dancers obey the -slightest lifting of her eyebrows, for she is a masterful person, -although quite impersonal in her mastery. She possesses the art of the -single withering sentence. Her superb organizing ability has enabled her -to surround herself with a highly able staff; but the sycophantic -“yes-man” is something for which she has no time. Hers is a -rapid-working mind, often being several leaps ahead of all others in a -conference. Sincere, honest criticism she welcomes; anything other, she -detests. I remember an occasion when a certain critic made a comment -based on nothing more than personal bias and a twisted, highly personal -approach. Her response was acid, biting, withering, and I was glad I was -not on the receiving end. - -I am sure that Ninette de Valois was convinced of her mission early in -her career. That mission--to found a truly national British ballet--she -has richly fulfilled. Much of the work involved in this fulfilment has -been the exercise of great organizing and executive ability: in the -formulation of policy and plans as well as carrying them out; in the -employment of a large number of talented and efficient people; in -determining the scale on which the venture should be conducted. - -I have spoken of “Madame’s” ability to handle people. This has earned -her, in some quarters, an undeserved reputation for being a forbidding -and austere person. The fact that she is, as she must be, a strict -disciplinarian with her company, does not mean that she cannot be a -genuinely gay and amusing person. In certain respects, despite her Irish -birth as Edris Stannus, she is a veritable English lady, in the best -sense of the term, with an English lady’s virtues (and they are -numerous). These virtues include, among others, a very definite, -forceful, but quiet efficiency; more than average common sense; a -passion for being fair; the inbred necessity for being economical. -Against all this is set that quality of idealism that turned a dancing -school into a great national ballet. Idealism dreamed it, practicality -brought it to fruition. - -In those far-off days before the second world war, when I used to visit -the ballet in Russia, it was one of my delights to go to the classes of -the late Agrippina Vaganova, one of the greatest of ballet teachers of -all time, and to watch this wise and highly talented ballet-mistress at -work. - -I noted that it was Vaganova’s invariable custom to open her classes -with a two or three minute talk, in which she would compliment the -company, and individuals in particular, on their work in the ballet -performance the night before, closing with: - -“I am proud of you. Thank you very much.” - -Then they would go to work in the class, subjected to the strictest -discipline, and, sometimes, to the sharpest and most caustic sort of -criticism imaginable. Then, at the end of the class, again came -individual approbation and encouragement. - -This is the sort of little thing I have never observed at Sadler’s -Wells. It may, of course, be there; and again, it may not. - -The Sadler’s Wells personnel love “Madame”; regard it as a high -privilege to be a part of the Wells organization; do not look on their -association merely as a “job.” - -It might be that “Madame” could advantageously employ Vaganova’s method -in this regard, use her example in her own relations with her company. -Certainly, it could do no harm, as I see it. It may well be that she -does. The point is that I have never seen it in practice. - -In the better part of a lifetime spent in the midst of the dance, I can -remember no one with a greater devotion to ballet, or one willing to -make more sacrifices for it, and for the spreading of its gospel. - -Let me cite just one example of this devotion. It was during the second -North American tour of the Sadler’s Wells company that, despite all the -demands made upon her time and energy, she was impelled to undertake a -long lecture tour of Canada and the Northwest to spread the gospel of -ballet and the British Council. - -Herbert Hughes, the general manager, came to me to point out that since -“Madame” had to do this, he felt we should send some one to accompany -her, because she was unfamiliar with the country, and with the train and -air schedules. - -I fully concurred, in view of all he had said, and the possibility of -inclement weather at that time of the year. - -Together we approached “Madame” with the idea. It did not meet with her -approval. It was quite unnecessary. She was quite able to take care of -herself. She did not want any one “making a fuss” over her. - -Of course, she would require funds for her expenses. Hughes prevailed -upon her to accept $300 as petty cash. “Madame” stuffed the money into -her capacious reticule. - -When “Madame” rejoined the company, she brought back $137 of the $300. -“This is the balance,” she said to Hughes, “I didn’t spend it.” - -This entire lecture tour, in which she covered thousands of miles, was -but another example of her tirelessness and Ninette de Valois’ -single-track mind. - -She was due to rejoin the company at the Ambassador Hotel, in Los -Angeles, on the morning of the Los Angeles _première_ of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet, at which time we had arranged a large breakfast -press-conference, over which “Madame” was to preside. - -“Madame” was due by airplane from Vancouver early the previous evening. -Hughes suggested that he should go to the airport to greet her, or that -some one should be sent; but I vetoed the idea, remembering that -“Madame” did not want a “fuss” made over her. Although the plane was due -round about nine o’clock in the evening, midnight had produced no -“Madame.” A telephonic check with the Terminal assured us the plane had -arrived safely and on time. Hughes and I sat up until three-thirty in -the morning waiting, but in vain. - -I was greatly disturbed and exercised when, at nine the next morning, -she had not put in an appearance. The press-conference was set for ten -o’clock, and “Madame” was its most important feature. Moreover, I was -concerned for her safety. - -A few minutes before the start of the breakfast conference, unperturbed, -unruffled, neat and calm as always, “Madame” entered the Ambassador -foyer with her customary spirit and swift, sure gait. - -We gathered round her. What had happened? Was she all right? Had -anything gone wrong? - -“Don’t be silly. What _could_ go wrong?” - -But what had happened? We pressed for an explanation. - -“The strangest thing, my dears,” she said. “When I arrived last night, I -looked in my bag for the piece of paper on which I had noted the name of -this hotel. I couldn’t find it; nor could I, for the life of me, -remember it.” - -“What did you do?” - -“Do? I went to sleep at the airport.” - -“And--?” - -“And this morning I said to myself, ‘Come, pull yourself together.’ I -tried an old law of association of ideas. I managed to remember -the name of this hotel had something to do with diplomacy. -‘Diplomacy--Diplomacy,’ I said to myself.... ‘Embassy?... No, that’s not -it.’ I tried again.... ‘Ambassador?’ ... There, you have it. And here I -am.... Let us go, or we shall be late. Where is this press conference?” - -That is Ninette de Valois. - -Ninette de Valois’ work as a choreographer speaks for itself. Her -approach to any work is always professional, always intellectual, never -amateur, never sentimental. Some of her works may be more successful -than others, whether they are academic or highly original, but each -bears the imprint of one of the most distinctive, able, and agile minds -in the history of ballet. - -So far as I have been able to observe, Ninette de Valois _is_ Sadler’s -Wells. Sadler’s Wells _is_ the national ballet of Britain. In looking -objectively at the organization, with its two fine companies, its -splendid school, I pray that Ninette de Valois may long be spared, for, -with all its splendid organization, Sadler’s Wells and British national -ballet are synonyms, and unless the dear lady has someone up her sleeve, -I cannot, for the life of me, see a successor in the offing. - - -_FREDERICK ASHTON_ - -Frederick Ashton, the chief choreographer of the company, is the -complete antithesis of his colleague. Where de Valois is realistic, -“Freddy” is sentimental. Where “Madame” may sometimes be rigid, Ashton -is adaptable. Some of his work is “slick” and smooth. He is a romantic, -but by that I do not necessarily mean a “neo-romantic.” - -Ashton was born in Ecuador, in 1909, which does not make him Ecuadorian, -any more than the fact that he spent his childhood in Peru, makes him -Peruvian. His British parents happened to be living there at the time. -It is said that his interest in dance was first aroused upon seeing Anna -Pavlova dance in far-off Peru. - -Moving to London with his parents, “Freddy” had the privilege of being -exposed to performances of the Diaghileff Company, and he had his first -ballet lessons from Leonide Massine. Massine turned him over to Marie -Rambert when he left London. It was for Rambert that he staged his first -work, _The Tragedy of Fashion_, for the Nigel Playfair revue, -_Hammersmith Nights_, in 1926. An interim in Paris with Ida Rubenstein, -Nijinska, and Massine, was followed by a long time with Marie Rambert -and her Ballet Club. The Paris interlude with Nijinska and Massine -affected him profoundly. He was a moving figure in the life of the -Camargo Society, and in 1935 he joined the Vic-Wells (later to be known -as the Sadler’s Wells Ballet), as resident choreographer. - -During the years between, Ashton has become England’s great creator. He -is also a character dancer of wide variety, as witness his Carabosse in -_The Sleeping Beauty_, his shy and wistful Ugly Sister in _Cinderella_. -His contribution to ballet in England is tremendous. Nigh on to a dozen -ballets for the Ballet Rambert; something between twenty-five and thirty -for the Sadler’s Wells organization; _Devil’s Holiday_ for the Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo, a work which, because of the outbreak of the war, -he was unable to complete, and which was never seen in this country with -its creator’s full intentions; two works in New York for the New York -City Ballet; and the original production of the Gertrude Stein-Virgil -Thomson _Four Saints in Three Acts_, in New York. - -It is interesting to note the wide variety of his creative work by -listing some of his many works, which, in addition to those mentioned -above, include, among others, the following: For the Ballet Club of -Marie Rambert: _Les Petits Riens_, _Leda and the Swan_, _Capriol Suite_, -_The Lady of Shalott_, _La Peri_, _Foyer de Danse_, _Les Masques_, -_Mephisto Valse_, and several others. - -For that founding society of contemporary British ballet, which I have -mentioned before, the Camargo Society: _Pomona_, _Façade_, _The Lord of -Burleigh_, _Rio Grande_ (originally known as _A Day In a Southern -Port_), and other works. - -I have already mentioned some of his outstanding works for the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet. Others include _Nocturne_, to Delius’s _Paris_; -_Apparitions_, to a Liszt-Lambert score; _Les Rendez-vous_, to a -Constant Lambert score based on melodies by Auber, seen in America in -the repertoire of the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet; the delicious _A -Wedding Bouquet_, to an original score by Lord Berners and a Gertrude -Stein text; _Les Patineurs_, to melodies by Meyerbeer; Constant -Lambert’s _Horoscope_; _Dante Sonata_, to Liszt works arranged by -Lambert; _The Wise Virgins_, to Bach arranged by Sir William Walton; -_The Wanderer_, to Schubert; Walton’s _The Quest_; _Les Sirènes_, by -Lord Berners; the César Franck _Symphonic Variations_; the Coronation -ballet of 1953--_Homage to the Queen_; and, in a sense, most -importantly, the full length _Cinderella_, utilizing the Prokofieff -score; and the full length production of Delibes’ _Sylvia_. - -Actually, I like to think of Ashton as a dance-composer, moving freely -with dramatic or symbolic characters. - -In all my experience of ballet and of choreographers, I do not believe -there is any one more conscientious, more hard-working, more painstaking -at rehearsals. While his eye misses nothing, he never raises his voice, -never loses his temper. Corrections are made firmly, but quietly, almost -in seeming confidence. Always he has a good word for something well -done. On occasion, I have noticed something to be adjusted and have -mentioned it to him. - -“Yes, yes, I know,” he would say. - -“Aren’t you going to tell them?” - -“You tell them,” Ashton would smile. “I can’t tell them. Go on, you tell -them.” - -This was in connection with a musical matter. The conductor in question -was taking a portion of the work at a too rapid tempo. It involved -“Freddy” telling the conductor the passage was being played too fast. - -“No,” repeated “Freddy,” “it will work out. He will see it and feel it -for himself. I don’t want to upset him.” - -An extraordinarily conscientious worker, he is equally self-deprecating. -Some of this self-deprecation can be found in his work, for there is -almost always a high degree of subtlety about all of it. Among all the -choreographers I know, there is none his superior or his equal in -designing sheer poetry of movement. Ashton is able, in my opinion, to -bring to ballet some of that quality of enchantment that, in the old -days, we found only with the Russians. - -This self-deprecating quality of “Freddy’s” is at its strongest on -opening nights of his works. It is very real and sincere. - -“Everything I do is always a flop here in England, you know,” he will -say. “They don’t like me.... I’ve done the best I can.... There you -are.” - -Despite this self-deprecation, Ashton, once his imagination is stirred, -his inspiration stimulated, throws off a certain indolence that is one -of his characteristics, knows exactly what he wants, how to get it, and -goes about it. Like all creative artists, during the actual period of -creation, he can be alternately confident and despairing, determined and -resigned. Despite the reluctance to exercise his authority, he can, if -occasion demands, put his foot down firmly, and does. - -Yet, in doing so, I am certain that never in his life has he hurt any -one, for “Freddy” Ashton is essentially a kind person. - -Three British _ballerinas_ owe Ashton an immense debt: Margot Fonteyn, -Moira Shearer, and Alicia Markova. It is due in large measure to -Ashton’s tuition, his help, his sound advice, and his plastic sense that -these fine artists have matured. - -Every choreographer worthy of the name stamps his works with his own -personality. Ashton’s signature is always apparent in his work. No -matter how characteristic of him his works may be choreographically, -they are equally dissimilar and varied in mood. - -One of my great pleasures is to watch him at rehearsal, giving, giving, -giving of himself to dancers. Before the curtain rises, that final -expectant moment before the screen between dancer and audience is -withdrawn, Ashton is always on the stage, moving from dancer to dancer: -“Cheer up”.... “Back straight, duckie”.... “Present yourself”.... “Chin -up, always chin up, darling.” ... - -Personally, “Freddy” is an unending delight. Shy, shy, always shy, shy -like the shy sister he plays in _Cinderella_, he is always the good -colleague, evincing the same painstaking interest in the ballets of -others as he does in his own, something which I assure the reader is -rare. I have yet to see “Freddy” ruffled, yet to see him outwardly -upset. In his personal appearance he is always neat, carefully dressed. -Even in the midst of hectic dress-rehearsals and their attendant -excitements and alarums, I have never seen him anything but cool, neat, -and well-groomed. There is never a fantastic “rehearsal costume” with -“Freddy.” - -The picture of “Freddy” that is uppermost in my mind is of him standing -in the “Crush Bar” at Covent Garden, relaxed, at ease, listening more -than talking, laughing in his self-deprecatory way, always alert, always -amusing. - -Ashton lives in London in a house in a little street quaintly called -Yeoman’s Row, on the edge of Knightsbridge and Kensington. Here he often -does his own cooking and here he works out his ideas. It is a tiny -house, the work-center being a second-floor study, crowded with -gramophone records, books, photographs and statuettes, all of which -nearly obscure the red wall-paper. The statuettes are three in number: -Anna Pavlova, Fanny Ellsler, and Marie Taglioni. The photographs range -from good Queen Alexandra, through bull-fighters, to dancers. - -The Sadler’s Wells hierarchy seems to travel in groups. One such group -that seemed inseparable included Ashton, “Bobby” Helpmann, Margot -Fonteyn, and Pamela May. Occasionally Constant Lambert would join in, to -eat, to drink, to have fun. For “Freddy” is by no means averse to the -good things of life. - -“Freddy” Ashton is another of those figures of the dance who should -never regard the calendar as a measure for determining his age. I -believe the youthful spirit of Ashton is such that he will live to be a -hundred-and-fifty; that, in 2075, he will be the last survivor of the -founding of Sadler’s Wells, and will then be the recipient of a grand -gala benefit at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, where, that night, -he will share the Royal Box with the then reigning monarch. - - -_CONSTANT LAMBERT_ - -It is difficult for me to write without emotion of the third of the -trio, Constant Lambert, whose loss is deeply mourned by all who knew -him, and by many who did not. - -A picturesque figure, Lambert was a great conductor, a great musician, a -composer of superior talents, a critic of perception, a writer of -brilliance and incisiveness, a life-long student of the ballet. -Lambert’s contribution to the making of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet has, I -suspect, been given less credit than it deserves. I have said that, in -my three decades-and-more of ballet management, I have never known a -ballet company with such high musical standards. These standards were -imposed by Constant Lambert. Not only did he compose ballets for the -company, but when music of other composers was used, it was Lambert who -provided the strikingly brilliant orchestral arrangements--witness, as a -few examples: _Les Patineurs_, _Dante Sonata_, _The Faery Queen_, -_Comus_, _Apparitions_, _Les Rendez-vous_, _Balabile_, in which he made -alive for ballet purposes the assorted music of Meyerbeer, Liszt, -Purcell, Auber, Chabrier, respectively. - -Born in London, in 1905, the son of a painter, brother of a well-known -sculptor, he spent a substantial part of his childhood in Russia, where -his grandfather supplied the Trans-Siberian Railway with its -locomotives. He was a living proof of the fact that it was possible for -an Englishman to be a musician without being suspected of not being a -gentleman. His was an incisive mind, capable of quick reactions, with a -widely ranging emotional experience. - -With the Camargo Society, Constant Lambert established himself not only -as a conductor, but as the musical mind behind British ballet. However, -it was not an Englishman who discovered him as a composer. That honor -goes to a Russian, Serge Diaghileff, who, when Lambert was bordering on -twenty-one, commissioned him to write a ballet for his company. No other -English composer shared that honor before Diaghileff died, although -Diaghileff did produce, but did not commission, Lord Berners’ _The -Triumph of Neptune_. And so Lambert stands isolated, with his _Romeo and -Juliet_, which was first produced at Monte Carlo, in 1926, with Lifar -and Karsavina as the protagonists; and his second ballet, _Pomona_, -which Bronislava Nijinska staged at the Colon Theatre, Buenos Aires, in -1927. - -Constant Lambert’s English education was at Christ’s Hospital. Early in -his school days he underwent a leg operation that compelled him always -to walk with a stick. All his life he was never entirely free from pain. -At the Royal College of Music he was a pupil of Ralph Vaughan Williams. -Ballet came into his life at an early date, and remained there until his -untimely passing. To it he gave the best years of his life in acting as -a sort of hair-spring to Ninette de Valois’ mainspring in the -development of Sadler’s Wells. On his sound musical foundation Sadler’s -Wells rests. - -It is not within my province to discuss Lambert as a composer; but his -accomplishments and achievements in this field were considerable. It is, -of course, as a musician he will be remembered. But I could not regard -Lambert as a musician pure and simple. He had a wide variety of -interests, not the least of which was painting. Both painting and -sculpture were in his family, and, from conversations with him I -frequently got the notion that, had his technical accomplishments been -other than they were, he would have preferred to have been a painter to -a musician. Much of his music had a pictorial quality, witness his -ballets, _Romeo and Juliet_, _Pomona_, _Horoscope_, and _Tiresias_; -observe his _Piano Concerto_, _Rio Grande_ (“By the Rio Grande, they -dance no Sarabande”), _Music for the Orchestra_, _Elegiac Blues_ (a -tribute to the American Florence Mills), the _Merchant Navy Suite_, -_Summer’s Last Will and Testament_, Hogarthian in color and treatment; -and the work I shall always remember him conducting as a musical -interlude in the first season in New York, the _Aubade Heroique_, the -reproduction in sound of a Dutch landscape, a remembrance of that dawn -in Holland when Lambert, a visiting conductor with Sadler’s Wells, -witnessed the invasion of The Hague by Nazi paratroopers. - -It was as a conductor of Tchaikowsky that I feel he excelled. He was a -masterly Tchaikowsky interpreter. I should have loved to hear him play -the symphonies. I content myself, however, with his _Swan Lake_ and _The -Sleeping Beauty_, and the realization of how much these two Sadler’s -Wells productions owe to him. Never was the music for an instant dull, -for Lambert always conducted it with a fine ear for contrasts of brisk -with languid, happiness with _toska_. - -Composer that he was, he devoted a large part of his life to conducting. -His recordings are to be treasured. Conducting to him was not merely a -source of livelihood, but a very definite form of self-expression, an -important part of him. In my experience, I have found that composers -are, as a rule, bad conductors, and conductors bad composers. Two -exceptions I can name. Both British. Lambert was well nigh unique in his -superlative capacity in both directions, as is Benjamin Britten today. -Lambert, I feel, was not only one of the most gifted composers of his -time, but also one of its finest interpretative artists. He had the -unique quality of being able to enter wholeheartedly into the innermost -essence of forms of art diametrically opposed to his own, even -positively unsympathetic to him personally, and giving superlative -performances of them. - -Lambert was no calm liver, no philosophic hermit; a good deal of a -hedonist, he met life considerably more than half way, and went out to -explore life’s possibilities to the fullest. Moreover, he richly -succeeded in doing so. He was a brilliant wit, both in writing and in -conversation. His book, _Music, Ho!_, remains one of the most -stimulating books of musical commentary and criticism of our time. He -was the collector and creator of an innumerable number of magnificent -but unprintable limericks, in the creation of which he was a distinct -poet. He had composed a series of fifty on one subject--double bishops, -i.e., bishops having more than one diocese, like Bath and Wells. A -friend of mine who has heard Lambert recite them with that gusto of -which only he was capable, tells me that they are, without doubt, one of -the most brilliant achievements in this popular form. - -Wit is one thing; stout-hearted, robust humor is another. Lambert had -both. There was also a shyness of an odd kind, when a roaring laugh -would give way to a fit of wanting to be by himself, wrapped in -melancholy. His was a delicately poised combination of the introvert and -the extravert, the latter expressing itself in the love of male company -over pots of ale and even headier beverages. He had a keen appreciation -of the good things of life. - -This duality of personality was apparent in his physical make-up. There -was something about his appearance that, in a sense, fitted in with the -conventional portrait of John Bull. A figure of a good deal of masculine -strength, he was big, inclined to be burly; his complexion was pink. He -exhibited in himself a disconcerting blend of the most opposite extremes -imaginable. On the one hand, a certain morbidity; on the other, a bluff -and hearty roast-beef-and-Yorkshire Britishness. I have said that he -resembled, physically, the typical drawing of John Bull. As a matter of -fact, he bore an uncanny physical resemblance to Winston Churchill, and -had elements in common with G. K. Chesterton. And a Hollywood casting -director might have engaged him to play the role of the Emperor Nero, on -strict type casting. He had an alert face on which humor often played -good tunes, but on which, now and then, there used to settle a kind of -stern gloom, not to be dispersed by any insensitive back-slapping. - -He was as much at home in France as he was in England. His late -adolescence and early manhood were spent in the hectic, feverish, -restless ’twenties, with the Diaghileff Ballet and the French school of -musical composition as the preponderant influences. As he grew older, -his Englishness, if I may call it that, grew as well. The amazing thing -to me was his ability to maintain such an even balance between the two. - -Lambert had a passion for enigmas. He adored cats, and had a strange -attraction to aquariums, zoos, and their fascinatingly enigmatic -inhabitants. He was President of the Kensington Kittens’ and Neuter -Cats’ Club, Incorporated. An important club, a club with a President who -knew quite a lot about cats. There is a story to the effect that there -was once a most handsome cat at London’s Albert Hall who was a close -friend of Lambert’s, a cat called Tiddleywinks, a discriminating cat, -and a cat with a certain amount of musical taste. Lambert, the -President, would never proceed with the job he had to do at the Albert -Hall without a preliminary chat with Tiddleywinks. And all would be -well. - -Constant Lambert was working on, among other things, an autobiography, -concerning which he one day inquired about completely inaccessible -places left in our shrinking world, particularly since the last war and -James Norman Hall have pretty well exposed the South Pacific islands. -What he actually wanted to know was an inaccessible place to which to -hie after its publication, “because,” he said, “I’m telling the truth -about everyone I know, including myself, and I shall have to flee the -wrath of my ‘friends,’ and find a safe place where the laws of libel -cannot reach me. You know, in my country at least, ‘the greater the -truth, the greater the libel.’” - -There was an infinite variety in his “drive.” He conducted ballet at -Covent Garden; radio concerts at the British Broadcasting Corporation; -symphony concerts, with special emphasis on Liszt and Sibelius, with the -London Philharmonic Orchestra; made magnificent, definitive recordings; -recited the Sitwell poems in _Façade_ at every opportunity; composed -fresh, vital works; made striking musical arrangements. He was at once -composer, conductor, critic, journalist, an authority on railroad -systems, trains, and locomotives, a student of the atom bomb, and a -talker. There are those who insist he was not easy to get to know. It -could be. He was, as I have said, shy. He was a highly concentrated -individual, living a lot on his nerves. Despite this, to those who knew -him, he was the friendliest of good companions, a perpetual stimulus to -those who delighted in knowing him. - -One had to be prepared, to be sure, to discover, in the middle of one of -one’s own sentences (and, frequently, one of his own) that he was--gone. -He would tilt his chin in the air, stare suddenly into far distant -spaces, turn on his heel with the help of his stick, as swiftly as a -ballet-dancer in a _pirouette_, and silently vanish. He was a good -listener--if one had anything to say. He did not suffer fools gladly, -and to bores--that increasing affliction of our times--he presented an -inflexible deafness akin to the switching-off of a hearing-aid, and a -truly magnificent cast-iron rigidity of inattention. The bore fled. So -did Lambert. - -I have given some indication of the width of his interests. It was -amazing. His gusto for life was unquenchable, and with it was a wise, -shrewd appraisement of the human comedy--and tragedy. He was able to get -through an enormous amount of work without ever seeming to do anything. -Best of all, perhaps, he was able to enjoy a joke against himself. In -this world of the arts and artists, where morbid egotisms and too -exposed nerves victimize and vitiate the artist, it was a boon to him -and an extraordinarily attractive characteristic. - -Above all, he had an undying belief in British Ballet. - -The last performance I saw Lambert conduct was the first performance of -his last ballet, _Tiresias_, which was the occasion of a Gala in aid of -the Ballet Benevolent Fund in the presence of H.M. the Queen and -Princess Elizabeth, on the 9th July, 1951. _Tiresias_ was a work on -which Lambert had gone back to his collaboration with Frederick Ashton. -The story he had made himself; it was a sort of composite of the myths -about Tiresias; reduced to as much of a capsule as I can, it deals with -the duality of Tiresias--as man and woman--and how he was struck blind -by Hera, when Tiresias proves her wrong when she argues with Zeus that -man’s lot is happier than woman’s. It was, this ballet, a sort of family -affair in a sense; for Lambert’s wife, Isabel, designed scenery and -costumes, setting the three-scened work on the Island of Crete. - -After the first performance, we met at a large party to which I had gone -with David Webster. Lambert and his wife, along with Ninette de Valois -and Lady Keynes (Lydia Lopokova), joined us at supper. The ballet had -been a long one, running quite a bit more than an hour, and there was -general agreement among us that the work would benefit from judicious -cutting. Lambert thoughtfully considered all the suggestions that were -proffered; agreed that, conceivably, a cut or two might improve it, but -the question was where and how, without damaging what he felt was the -basic structure of the whole. - -Not long after this, Lambert and I met at the door of Covent Garden, -having arrived simultaneously. We had a brief chat, and he was his usual -vastly courteous and amusing self. - -A few days later, at the Savoy, my telephone rang quite early in the -morning. “Madame’s” secretary, Jane Edgeworth, at the other end, -informed me Constant Lambert had just died. I was stunned. - -It appeared that Lambert had been taken ill while at a party and had -been rushed to London Clinic, one of London’s most exclusive and finest -nursing-homes, on Sunday evening, the 19th August. It was on Tuesday -morning, the 21st August, that I received the news of his death. The -funeral was quite private, since the entire Sadler’s Wells company was -away from London performing at the Edinburgh Festival. Lambert was -buried from the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, at Smithfield, in -the City of London. So private was the service that almost no one was -there, and there were no Pallbearers. - -I was present at the Memorial Service, held at the famous Church of St. -Martin’s-in-the-Fields, at Charing Cross, overlooking the National -Gallery. There were gathered his sorrowing company, now returned from -Edinburgh, headed by Ninette de Valois, Frederick Ashton, and David -Webster. The address was given by the Reverend C. B. Mortlock. Robert -Helpmann, an old colleague, read the Lesson. The chorus of the Royal -Opera House, Covent Garden, sang Bach’s _Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring_. -At the close, John Churchill, one of Britain’s greatest organists and an -old friend of Lambert’s, played on the organ that elegiac work Lambert -had composed at the rape of Holland, and which he had conducted so -magnificently at the Metropolitan Opera House--his _Aubade Heroique_. - -Here at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields his colleagues paid him honor. I was -deeply moved. At the little funeral, I had been equally stirred. Here -before me was all that remained of the great man who never took his -greatness seriously; the man who would go to any trouble on behalf of -those who tried, but who, for those who were lazy, or cynical, or -thought themselves superior, and without justification, he had no use -whatever. Here was a man about whom there was nothing of the academic -recluse, but a man who loved life as he loved music, ballet, fully, -strongly, with ever-growing zest and with ever-deepening understanding; -the man who had done so much for ballet, its music, its standards; who -had been of such vital importance in the fashioning of Sadler’s Wells. -My thoughts went back to his creations, his arrangements. I was actually -conscious of his imprint on all ballet. Memories of his wit, his -brilliance, crowded into my mind. - -I expected, I think, that with the sudden passing of a man of such fame, -there would be an outpouring of thousands for his funeral, to pay their -last, grateful respects. I was surprised. This was not the case, as I -have explained. A few close distinguished friends and colleagues -gathered beside the coffin in the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, -in the City: Sir William Walton, Osbert and Sacheverell Sitwell, Sir -Arthur Bliss, Edmund Rubbra, Alan Rawsthorne, Ninette de Valois, -Frederick Ashton, and Robert Helpmann who had hurried down from -Edinburgh. - -The service was brief and hushed. I was indeed very sad, and my thoughts -traveled out to the little chapel in Golder’s Green, not so far as an -angel flies, where lay all that was mortal of another genius of the -dance and another friend, in the urn marked: “East Wall--No. 3711--Anna -Pavlova.” - -As Lambert’s body was borne from St. Bartholomew the Great’s gothic -pile, I bowed my head low as a great man passed, a very lovable man. - - -_DAVID WEBSTER_ - -I have dwelt at some length on my impressions of the artistic -directorate of Sadler’s Wells. Beyond and apart from the artistic -direction of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, but very much responsible for -its financial well-being, is David Lumsden Webster, the General -Administrator of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. - -David Webster is not a head-line hunter. He is certainly not the -press-agent’s delight. He does not court publicity. He permits his work -to speak for itself. - -On more than one occasion I have been appropriately chilled by a reading -of the impersonal factual coldness of the entries in that otherwise -useful volume, _Who’s Who_. The following quotation from it is no -exception: - - _Webster, David Lumsden, B.A.--General Administrator Royal Opera - House 1946--Born 3rd July, 1903--Educated Holt School, Liverpool - University, Oxford University--President Liverpool Guild of - Undergraduates, 1924-25--General Manager Bon Marché, Liverpool, - Ltd., 1932-40--General Manager Lewis’s Ltd., Liverpool, - 1940-41--Ministry of Supply Ordnance Factories, engaged on special - methods of developing production, 1942-44--Chairman Liverpool - Philharmonic Society, June 1940-October 1945._ - -To be sure, the facts are there. Not only is it possible to elaborate on -these facts, but to add some which may be implicit in the above -summary, but not apparent. For example, I can add that David Webster is -a cultured gentleman of taste, courage, and splendid business -perspicacity. His early background of business administration, as may be -gathered, was acquired in the fields of textiles and wearing apparel, -and was continued, during the war, in the highly important field of -expediting ordnance production. - -Things that are not implicit or even suggested in _Who’s Who_ are the -depth and breadth of his culture, his knowledge of literature and drama -and poetry and music--his love for the last making him a genuine musical -amateur in the best sense of the term. It was the last that was of -immense value to him as Chairman of the Liverpool Philharmonic Society -in building it into one of Britain’s outstanding symphonic bodies. It is -understandable that there was a certain amount of pardonable pride in -the accomplishment, since Webster is himself a Liverpudlian. - -At the end of the war, in a shell-shocked, bomb-blasted London, Webster -was invited to take over the post of General Administrator at Covent -Garden when the Covent Garden Opera Trust was formed at the time of the -Boosey and Hawkes leasehold. Since 1946, David Webster has been -responsible for the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden: for the Opera -entirely, and for the Ballet, in conjunction with Ninette de Valois. - -During this time, he has restored the historic house to its rightful -place among the leading lyric theatres of the world; where private -enterprise and the private Maecenas failed, Webster has succeeded. By -his policies, the famous house has been saved from the ignominy of a -public dance-hall in off-seasons, for now there are no longer any -“off-seasons.” - -David Webster is uniquely responsible for a number of things at Covent -Garden. Let me try to enumerate them. He has succeeded in establishing -and maintaining the Royal Opera House, Covent Carden, as a truly -national opera house, restoring this great theatre and reclaiming it as -a national center for ballet and opera, on a year-round basis. He has -succeeded in shaking off many of the hidebound traditions and -conventions of opera production. While the great standard works of opera -are an essential part of the operatic repertoire, he initiated a broad -policy of experimentation both in the production of standard works and -in new, untried operas. He has succeeded, through his invitation to the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, in making ballet an integral and important part -of the Opera House and has helped it to become a truly national ballet. -In addition to striking national operas by Bliss and Vaughan Williams, -it was Webster’s courage that has provided a home for three unique -operas, _Peter Grimes_, _Billy Budd_ and _Gloriana_, great works by that -brilliant young British composer, Benjamin Britten. While it is true the -original commission for the former work came from the Natalie -Koussevitsky Foundation in America, it was Webster who had the vision -and courage to mount both great modern operas grandly. It was Webster -who had the courage to mount the latter, based on Herman Melville’s -immortal story, with Britten as conductor; and a magnificent one he -turned out to be. - -Britten is indisputably at the very top among the figures of -contemporary music. He is a young man of exceptional gifts, and it is -Webster and the permanent Covent Garden organization that have provided -the composer with exceptional opportunities for the expression of them. -This is only possible through the existence of a national opera house -with a permanent roof over its head. - -As is the case with all innovators, it has not been all clear sailing -for Webster; there were sections of the press that railed against his -policy. But Webster won, because at the root of the policy was a very -genuine desire to break away from stale conventions, to combat some of -the stock objections and prejudices that keep many people away from -opera. For Webster’s aim is to create a steady audience and to appeal to -groups that have not hitherto attended opera and ballet, or have -attended only when the most brilliant stars were appearing. - -In London, as in every center, every country, there are critics and -critics. Some are captious; others are not. One of the latter variety in -London once tackled me, pointing out his dislike for most of the things -that were going on at Covent Garden, his disagreement with others. I -listened for a time, until he asked me if I agreed with him. - -My answer was simple and short. - -“Look here,” I said. “A few years ago this beautiful house had what? -Shilling dances. Who peopled it? Drunken sailors, among others. Bow -Street and the streets adjoining were places you either avoided like the -plague; or else you worried and hurried through them, if you must. - -“Today, you have a great opera house restored to its proper uses. Now -you have something to criticize. Before you didn’t.” - -It has been thanks to David Webster’s sympathetic guidance that ballet -has grown in popularity until its audiences are larger than are those -for opera. - -A man of firm purpose, few words, eclectic taste, and great personal -charm, David Webster is a master of diplomatic skill. I can honestly say -that some of the happiest days of my life have been spent working -closely with him. Had it not been for his warm cooperation, his -unquenchable enthusiasm, America might easily have been denied the -pleasure and profit of Sadler’s Wells, and our lives would have been the -poorer. - -The last time I was in Webster’s office, I remarked, “We must prepare -the papers for the next tour.” - -Webster looked up quickly. - -“No papers are necessary,” he said. - -For the reader who has come this far, it should not be necessary for me -to underline the difference between negotiations with the British and -the years of wrangling through the intrigues and dissimulations of the -Russo-Caucasian-Eastern European-New England mazes of indecision. - -My respect for and my confidence in David Webster are unlimited. He is a -credit to his country; and to him, also, must go much of the credit for -the creation of a genuine national opera and for the solid position of -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet. - - -_ROBERT HELPMANN_ - -It was towards the end of the San Francisco engagement of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet that there occurred a performance, gala so far as the -audience was concerned, but which was not without its sadness to the -company, to me, and to all those who had watched the growth and -development, the rise to a position of pre-eminence on the part of -British ballet. The public was, of course, completely unaware of the -event. It is not the sort of thing one publicizes. - -Robert Helpmann, long the principal male dancer, a co-builder, and an -important choreographer of the company, resigned. His last performance -as a regular member of the organization took place in the War Memorial -Opera House. The vehicle for his last appearance was the grand -_pas-de-deux_ from the third act of _The Sleeping Beauty_, with Margot -Fonteyn. It was eminently fitting that Helpmann’s final appearance as a -regular member of the company was with Margot. Their association, as -first artists with the company, encompassed the major portion of its -history, some fifteen years. - -During this period, Helpmann had served in two capacities -simultaneously: as principal dancer and as choreographer. An Australian -by birth in 1909, his first ballet training came from the Anna Pavlova -company when Pavlova was on one of her Australian tours. For four years -he danced “down under,” and came to Britain in 1933, studying with the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet School, while dancing in the _corps de ballet_. -His first important role was in succession to Anton Dolin as Satan, in -the de Valois-Vaughan Williams _Job_. From 1934, he was the first male -dancer of the Sadler’s Wells organization. Helpmann often took leaves of -absence to appear in various plays and films, for he is an actor of -ability and distinction. As a choreographer, his _Hamlet_ and _Miracle -in the Gorbals_ are distinctive additions to any repertoire. - -“Bobby” Helpmann has not given up ballet entirely. When he can spare the -time from his theatrical and film commitments, he is bound to turn up as -a guest artist, and I hope to see him again partnering great -_ballerinas_. Always a good colleague, he has been blessed by the gods -with a delicious sense of humor. This serves him admirably in such roles -as one of the Ugly Sisters in _Cinderella_--I never can distinguish -which one by name, and only know “Bobby” was the sister which “Freddy” -Ashton was not. Both _Hamlet_ and _Miracle in the Gorbals_ revealed his -serious acting qualities. - -Man of the theatre, he is resourceful. On the first night of _The -Sleeping Beauty_, at the Metropolitan Opera House, there were a few -ticklish moments at the beginning of the Transformation Scene, due to -technical difficulties. The orchestra under Lambert went straight on. -But the stage wait was covered by Helpmann’s entrance, his sure hand, -his manner, his style, his “line,” his graciousness. - -I have mentioned some of Helpmann’s warm personal qualities. He is one -of those associated with Sadler’s Wells who has helped to number my -Sadler’s Wells’ associations among my happiest experiences. Helpmann is -one of those who, like the others when I am with them, compel me to -forget my business interests and concerns and all their associated -problems: just another proof that, with people of this sort, there is -something else in life besides business. - -There has been, perhaps, undue emphasis placed upon Helpmann, the actor, -with a corresponding tendency to overlook his dancing abilities. From -the point of view of sheer technical virtuosity, there are others who -surpass him. But technical virtuosity is not by any means all of a -dancer’s story. I happen to know of dancers who, in my opinion, have -excelled Nijinsky and Pavlova in these departments, but they were much -lesser artists. It is the overall quality in a dancer that matters. -Helpmann, I feel, is a dancer of really exceptional fluency, superb -lightness, genuine musicality, and admirable control. He is one of the -rare examples among male dancers to be seen about us today of what is -known in ballet terminology as the _danseur noble_. It is the _danseur -noble_ who is the hero, the prince, of classical ballet. As a mime and -an actor in ballet he may be compared with Leonide Massine, but the -quality I have mentioned Helpmann as having is something that has been -denied Massine, who is best in modern character ballets. - -Sir Arthur Bliss, one of Britain’s most distinguished composers, and the -creator of the scores to, among others, _Checkmate_ and _Miracle in the -Gorbals_, has said: “Robert Helpmann breathes the dust of the theatre -like hydrogen. His quickness to seize on the dramatic possibilities of -music is mercurial. I was not at all surprised to hear him sing in _Les -Sirènes_. It would seem quite natural to see him walk on to the Albert -Hall platform one day to play a violin concerto.” - -It is always a pleasure to me to observe him in his varied roles and to -watch him prepare for them. He leaves absolutely nothing to chance. His -approach is always the product of his fine intelligence. He experiments -with expression, with gesture, with make-up, coupling his reading, his -study of paintings, with his own keen sense of observation. - -“Bobby” Helpmann and I have one great bond in common: our mutual -adoration of Pavlova. Pavlova has, I know, strongly influenced him, and -this influence is apparent in the genuine aristocracy of his bearing and -his movement, in the purity of his style. - -There is a pretty well authenticated story about the first meeting -between Helpmann and Ninette de Valois, after the former had arrived in -London from Australia, and was looking for work at Sadler’s Wells. It -was an audition. The choreographer at such times is personally concerned -with the body of the aspirant, the extremities, the quality of movement, -the technical equipment of the applicant, some revelation of his -training and his style, if any. It is characteristic of Ninette de -Valois’ tendency to do the unexpected that, in Helpmann’s case, she -found herself regarding the “wrong end” of her subject. Her comment on -this occasion has become historic. - -“I can do something with that face,” she said. - -She did. - -It has been a source of regret to me that on the 1953 American visit of -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, “Bobby” Helpmann is not a regular member of -the company. It is not the same without him. - -I have said that perhaps undue emphasis has been put on Helpmann, the -actor. If this is true, it is only because of “Bobby’s” amazing -versatility: as dancer, as choreographer, as actor, as stage-director. -He can turn at will from one medium to the other. As actor, it should -not be forgotten that he has appeared with equal success in revues (as a -mimic); in Shakespeare (both on stage and screen); in plays ranging from -Webster and Bernard Shaw to the Russian Andreyev. - -Most recently, he has acted with the American Katherine Hepburn, and has -scored perhaps his most outstanding directorial success to date in his -superlatively fine mounting of T. S. Eliot’s _Murder in the Cathedral_, -at the Old Vic. - -I am looking forward to bringing “Bobby” to America in the not too far -distant future in a great production of a Shakespeare work which I am -confident will make theatrical history. - -“Bobby” Helpmann, as I have pointed out, is more than a dancer: he is a -splendid actor, a fine creator, a distinguished choreographer, an -intelligent human being. - -His is a friendship I value; he is alive and eager, keen and shrewd, -with a ready smile and a glint in his eye. For “Bobby” has a happy way -with him, and whether you are having a meal with him or discussing a -point, you cannot help reacting to his boyish enthusiasm, his zeal for -his job, his flair for doing it. My memories of dinners and suppers with -the “inseparables,” to which I have often been invited, are treasured. -The “inseparables” were that closely-linked little group: Fonteyn, -Ashton, Helpmann, with de Valois along, when she was in town and free. -The bond between the members of the group is very close. - -It was in Chicago. It was mid-tour, with rehearsals and conferences and -meetings for future planning. We were at breakfast. “Madame” suddenly -turned to Helpmann. - -“Bobby,” she said, with that crisp tone that immediately commands -attention. “Bobby, I want you to be sure to be at the Drake Hotel to -give a talk to the ladies at one o’clock _sharp_. Now, be sure to come, -and be sure to be there on time.” - -“How, in heaven’s name,” replied Helpmann, “can I possibly be in two -places at one time? You told me I shall have to be at the Public Library -at one sharp.” - -De Valois regarded him for a long moment. - -“You astound me, Bobby,” she finally said. “Did I tell you that? Very -well, then, let it be the Public Library. I shall take the Drake Hotel. -But watch out, make sure you are there on time.” - -Ninette de Valois not only did something with “that face.” She also made -good use of that intelligence. - -I last saw “Bobby” Helpmann dance at the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden, on Coronation Night, when he returned as a guest artist with the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, to appear with Margot Fonteyn in _Le Lac des -Cygnes_, Act Two. - -What a pleasure it was to see him dancing once more, the true cavalier, -with his perfect style and the same submerging of technique in the ebb -and flow of the dance. I am looking forward to seeing him again, and, I -hope, again and again. - - -_ARNOLD L. HASKELL_ - -Among my cherished associations with this fine organization, I cannot -fail to acknowledge the contribution to ballet and the popularity of it, -made through the media of books, articles, lectures, by the one-time -ballet critic and now Director and Principal of the Sadler’s Wells -School, Arnold L. Haskell. - -Haskell, the complete _balletomane_ himself, has done as much, if not -more, to develop the cult of the _balletomane_ in the western -Anglo-Saxon world as any one else I know. Devoted to the cause of the -dance, for years he gave unsparingly of his time and means to spread the -gospel of ballet. - -In the early days of the renaissance of ballet, Haskell came to the -United States on the first visit of the de Basil company and was of -immense assistance in helping to create an interest in and a desire to -find out about ballet on the part of the American people. He helped to -organize an audience. Later, he toured Australia with the de Basil -company, preaching “down under” the gospel of the true art with the zeal -of a passionate, proselyting, non-conformist missionary. - -From his untiring pen has come a long procession of books and articles -on ballet appreciation in general, and on certain phases of ballet in -particular--books of illumination to the lay public, of sound advice to -dancers. - -Arnold Haskell’s balletic activities can be divided into five -departments: organizer, author, lecturer, critic, and educator. In the -first category, he, with Philip J. S. Richardson, long-time editor and -publisher of the _Dancing Times_ (London), was instrumental in forming -and founding the Camargo Society, after the death of Diaghileff. As -lecturer, he delivered more than fifteen hundred lectures on ballet for -the British Ministry of Information, the Arts Council, the Council for -the Education of His Majesty’s Forces. As critic, he has written -innumerable critical articles for magazines and periodicals, and, from -1934 to 1938, was the ballet critic of the _Daily Telegraph_ (London). - -As critic, Haskell has rendered a valuable service to ballet. His -approach is invariably intelligent. He has a sound knowledge of the -dancer as dancer and, so far as dancers and dancing are concerned, he -has exhibited a fine intuition and a good deal of prophetic insight. - -The fifth department of Arnold Haskell’s activities, educator, is the -one on which he is today most successfully and conspicuously engaged. As -the active head of the Sadler’s Wells School, established in its own -building in Colet Gardens, Kensington, Arnold Haskell is in his element, -continuing his sound advice directly; he is acting as wise and -discerning mentor to a rising generation of dancers, who live together -in the same atmosphere for at least eight years. - -I have a feeling of warm friendship for Arnold Haskell, an infinite -respect for him as a person, and for his knowledge. - -The School of which he is the head, like all other Sadler’s Wells -activities, is carried on in association with the British Arts Council, -thus carrying forward the Council’s avowed axiom that the art of a -people is one of its signs of good health. So it has always been in the -world’s history from Ancient Greece to France at the time of the -Crusades, to Renaissance Italy and Elizabethan England. Each one of -those earlier manifestations, whatever its excellence, was confined to a -limited number of people, to the privileged and the elect. The new -renaissance will inevitably be the emergence of the common man into the -audience of art. He has always been a part of that audience when he has -had the opportunity. Now the opportunity must come in such a way that -none is overlooked and the result will be fresh vigour and -self-confidence in the people as a whole. - -The Sadler’s Wells School is, of course, under the direct supervision of -Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E. Its Board of Governors, which is active -and not merely a list of names, numbers distinguished figures from the -world of art, music and letters. - -The School was founded by the Governors of the Sadler’s Wells -Foundation, in association with the Arts Council, in 1947, to train -dancers who will be fitted to carry on the high tradition of Sadler’s -Wells and generally to maintain and enhance the prestige of British -Ballet. Over eighty-five per cent of the members of the ballet companies -at both the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, and at the Sadler’s Wells -Theatre are graduates of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School. The School -combines a full secondary education and a highly specialized vocational -training. Boys and girls are taken from the age of nine. Pupils are -prepared for what is the equivalent on this side of the Atlantic of a -complete High School education; in Britain, the General Certificate of -Education, and the curriculum includes the usual school subjects of -English language and literature, French, Latin (for boys only), history, -geography, Scripture, mathematics, science, handicraft, music, and art -work. The dance training consists of classical ballet, character dances, -mime. Importance is attached to character formation and to the -self-discipline essential for success on the stage. - -There is also an Upper School, which is open to boys and girls above -school-leaving age. After taking the General Certificate of Education, -the American equivalent of graduation from high school, students from -the Lower School pass into the Upper School if they have reached a -standard which qualifies them for further training in the senior ballet -classes. The Upper School is also open to students from other schools. -Entry is by interview, and applicants are judged on general -intelligence, physical aptitude, and standard attained. Entrants are -accepted on one term’s trial. Here the curriculum includes, in -post-education: classes in English and French language and literature, -history, art, music, lecture courses, and Dalcroze Eurhythmics. In -ballet--the classical ballet, character dances, mime, tuition in the -roles of the classical ballets and modern works in the repertoire of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet Companies. It is important to note that all ballet -classes for boys are taken by male teachers. - -The School is inspected by Her Majesty’s Inspectors of Schools, and is -licensed as a first-class educational institution. The pupils number -about one hundred ten in the Lower School, with about thirty in the -Upper School. - -So splendidly has the School developed that now a substantial physical -addition is being made to the premises in Colet Gardens, in the form of -a new building, to provide dormitories and living quarters so that it -may become a full-time boarding school, as well as a day-school; and -thus obviate the necessity for many students to live outside the school, -either at home or, as so often the case if the students come from -distant places, in the proverbial London “digs.” - -One of the most interesting and significant things about the School to -me is the number of boys enrolled and their backgrounds. Such is the -feeling about male dancing in our Anglo-Saxon civilization that many of -the boys have had to be offered scholarship inducements to enroll. The -bulk of the boys come out of working-class families in the North of -England and the Midlands. They are tough and manly. It is from boys such -as these that the prejudice against male dancing will gradually die out, -and the effeminate dancer will become, as he should, a thing of the -past. - - -_MOIRA SHEARER_ - -Although, to my regret, due to personal, family, and artistic reasons, -Moira Shearer is not present with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet on its -1953-1954 North American tour, I know her devotion to the Sadler’s Wells -institution remains unchanged. - -The simple fact is that Moira Shearer is preparing to enter a new and -different aspect of the theatre, a development with which I hope I shall -have something to do in the near future. - -Among the personalities of the company during the first two Sadler’s -Wells tours, American interest and curiosity were at their highest, for -obvious reasons, in Moira Shearer. The film, _Red Shoes_, had stimulated -an interest in ballet on the part of yet another new public, and its -_ballerina_ star had acquired the questionable halo of a movie star. -This was something that was anything but pleasing to the gentle, -intelligent Moira Shearer; and was, moreover, something she deplored. - -Born in Dunfermline, Fifeshire, Scotland, in 1926, Moira Shearer came to -ballet at an early age, having had dance lessons in Rhodesia as a child -at the hands of a former Diaghileff dancer. It was on her return to -England, when she was about eleven, that her serious studies began with -Madame Nadine Nicolaeva-Legat. In 1940 she joined the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet School, remaining briefly, however, because of the blitz. But, -early in 1941, she turned up with the International Ballet, another -British ballet organization, dancing leading roles at the age of -fourteen, another example of the “baby” _ballerina_. In 1942, she left -that company to rejoin Sadler’s Wells School. - -In 1943, Shearer became a member of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, achieving -an almost instant success and a marked popularity with audiences. What -impresses me most about Moira Shearer, the dancer, is a fluidity of -movement that has about it a definite Russian quality; she has a fine -polish in her style, coupled with great spontaneity and a gentle, easy -grace. - -Distinctive not only for her Titian-coloring and her famed auburn-haired -beauty and her slender grace, Shearer is equally noteworthy for her -poise and an almost incredible lightness; for her assurance and -classical dignity; for her ability to dominate the stage. The “Russian” -quality about her dancing I have mentioned, I suspect stems from her -early indoctrination and her training at the hands of Madame Legat; -there is something Russian about her entrances, when she immediately -commands the stage and becomes the focus of all eyes. All of these -qualities are particularly apparent in _Cinderella_. - -Moira Shearer’s reputation had preceded her across the United States and -Canada, as I have pointed out, because of the exhibition of spontaneity, -beauty and charm that had been revealed to thousands in the motion -picture, _Red Shoes_. There is no denying this film was highly -successful. I suppose it can be argued successfully that _Red Shoes_ -brought ballet to a new audience, and thus, in that sense, was good for -ballet. Whatever it may have been, it was not a true, or good, or honest -picture of ballet. I happen to know how Moira Shearer feels about it, -and I share her feelings. Although she dislikes to talk or hear very -much about _Red Shoes_, and was not very happy with it or about it, she -was, I fancy, less disturbed by her role in _The Tales of Hoffman_, with -“Freddy” Ashton, “Bobby” Helpmann, and Leonide Massine. Best of all her -film excursions, Moira feels, was her sequence in _My Three Loves_, -which Ashton directed for her in Hollywood. - -Once, on introducing her to one of those characteristic, monumental -California salads, her comment was: “My, but it’s delicious; yet it -looks like that Technicolor mess I should like to forget.” Shearer feels -_Red Shoes_ was rather a sad mess, a complete travesty of the ballet -life which it posed as portraying; that it was false and phoney -throughout, and that, perhaps, the phoniest thing about it was its -alleged glamor. On the other hand, she does not regard the time she -spent making it wasted, for, as she says, she was able to sit at the -feet of Leonide Massine and watch and learn and observe the -concentration with which he worked, the intelligence he brought to every -gesture, and the vast ingenuity and originality he applied to everything -he did. - -I happen to know Shearer has no illusions about the film publicity -campaign that made her a movie star overnight. She was amused by it, but -never taken in, and was hurt only when the crowds mobbed for autographs -and Americans hailed her as “_the_ star” of Sadler’s Wells. - -Cultured and highly intelligent, Moira Shearer is intensely musical, -both in life and in the dance. This musicality is particularly apparent -in her portrayal of the Princess Aurora in _The Sleeping Beauty_, and in -the dual role of Odette-Odile in _Swan Lake_. Again it is markedly -noticeable in a quite non-classical work, for of all the dancers I have -seen dance the Tango in _Façade_, she is by far the most satiric and -brilliant. She is well-nigh indispensable to _Wedding Bouquet_. - -Aside from the qualities I have mentioned, there is also a fine -romanticism about her work. Intelligence in a dancer is something that -is rare. There are those who argue that it is not necessarily a virtue -in a dancer. They could not be more wrong. It is, I think, Moira -Shearer’s superior intelligence that gives her, among other things, that -power of pitiless self-criticism that is the hallmark of the first-class -artist. - -Moira Shearer has been as fortunate in her private life as in her -professional activities. She lives happily in a lovely London home with -her attractive and talented writer-husband, Ludovic Kennedy. During the -second Sadler’s Wells American tour, her husband drove across the -continent from New York to Los Angeles to join Moira for the California -engagement, discovering, by means of a tiny Austin, that there were -still a great many of the wide-open spaces left in the land Columbus -discovered. - -In her charming London flat, with her husband, her books, her pictures, -and her music, she carries out one of her most serious ambitions: to be -a good mother; for the center of the household is her young daughter, -born in midsummer, 1952. - -The depth of Moira Shearer’s sincerity I happen to know not only from -others, but from personal experience. It is a genuine and real sincerity -that applies to every aspect of her life, and not only in art and the -theatre. - -A loyal colleague, she has a highly developed sense of honor. As Ninette -de Valois once remarked to me: “Anything that Moira has ever said or -promised is a bond with her, and nothing of a confirming nature in -writing is required.” - -A splendid artist, _ballerina_, and film star, it is my profound hope -that Moira may meet with the same degree of success in her new venture -into the legitimate theatre. - -There seems little doubt of this, since I am persuaded that she will -make good in anything she undertakes. - - -_BERYL GREY_ - -Another full-fledged _ballerina_ of the company, is Beryl Grey, who -alternates all _ballerina_ roles today with Fonteyn, Violetta Elvin, -Nadia Nerina and Rowena Jackson. Beryl Grey’s American success was -assured on the opening night of the first season at the Metropolitan -Opera House, with her gracious and commandingly sympathetic performance -of the Lilac Fairy in _The Sleeping Beauty_. - -In a sense, Grey’s and Shearer’s careers have followed a similar -pattern, in that they were both “baby ballerinas.” Born Beryl Groom, at -Muswell Hill, in London’s Highgate section, in 1927, the daughter of a -government technical expert and his wife, Beryl Grey’s dancing studies -began very early in life in Manchester, and at the age of nine, she won -a scholarship at the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School. In 1941, she joined -the company, and so rapid was her growth as an artist that she danced -leading roles in some half-dozen of the one-act ballets in the -repertoire, in place of Margot Fonteyn who had been taken ill. Even more -remarkable is the fact that she danced the full-length _Swan Lake_ in -London on her fifteenth birthday. - -The term, “baby ballerina,” has become a part of ballet’s language, due -to its association with the careers of Baronova and Toumanova in the -early ’thirties. In Grey’s case, however, she was privileged to have a -much wider experience in classical ballets than her _émigré_ Russian -predecessors. She was only seventeen when she danced the greatest of all -classical roles in the repertoire of the true _ballerina_, Giselle. - -My feeling about Beryl Grey, the dancer, is that she possesses -strikingly individual qualities, both of style and technique. She has -been greatly helped along the path to stardom by Frederick Ashton who, -as I have pointed out, likes nothing better than to discover and exploit -a dancer’s talents. It was he who gave Grey her first big dramatic -parts. - -Beryl Grey is married to a distinguished Swedish osteopath, Dr. Sven -Svenson, and they live in a charming Mayfair flat in London. Here again -one finds that characteristic of fine intelligence coupled with an -intense musicality. Also rare among dancers, Grey is an omnivorous -reader of history, biography, and the arts. She feels, I know, that, -apart from “Madame” and Ashton, who have been so keenly instrumental in -shaping her career, a sense of deep gratitude to Constant Lambert for -his kindness and help to her from her very early days; for his readiness -to discuss with her any aspect of music; and she gratefully remembers -how nothing was too inconsequential for his interest, his advice and -help; how no conductor understood what the dancer required from music -more than he did. She is also mindful of the inspiration she had from -Leonide Massine, of his limitless energy, his indefatigable enthusiasm, -his creative fire; she learned that no detail was too small to be -corrected and worked over and over. As she says: “He was so swift and -light, able to draw with immediate ease a complete and clear picture.” -Also, she points out, “He was quiet and of few words, but had a fine -sense of humor which was often reflected in his penetrating brown eyes. -His rare praise meant a great deal.” - -Beryl Grey is the star in the first three-dimensional ballet film ever -to be made, based on the famous Black Swan _pas de deux_ from _Le Lac -des Cygnes_. - -From the point of view of a dancer, Beryl Grey had one misfortune over -which she had to triumph: she is above average height. This she has been -able to turn into a thing of beauty, with a beautifully flowing length -of “line.” Personally, she is a gentle person, with a genuine humility -and a simple unaffected kindliness, and a fresh, completely unspoiled -charm. Her success in all the great roles has been such as to make her -one of the most popular figures with the public. - -I find great pleasure in her precision and strength as a dancer, in her -poised, statuesque grace, in her clean technique; and in her special -sort of technical accomplishment, wherein nothing ever seems to present -her any problems. - -During the American tours of Sadler’s Wells, she is almost invariably -greeted with flowers at the station. She seems to have friends in every -city. How she manages to do this, I am not sure; but I feel it must be a -tribute to her genuine warmth and friendliness. - - -_VIOLETTA ELVIN_ - -Violetta Elvin, another of the talented _ballerinas_ of the “fabulous” -Sadler’s Wells company, is in the direct line of Russian ballet, for she -is a product of the contemporary ballet of Russia. - -The daughter of a pioneer of Russian aviation, Vassili Prokhoroff, and -his wife, Irina Grimousinkaya, a Polish artist and an early experimenter -with action photography, Violetta Prokhorova became a pupil at the -Bolshoi Theatre, Moscow, at the age of nine. It is interesting to note -that she was one of a class of fifty accepted out of five hundred -applicants; it is still more interesting, and an example of the rigorous -Russian training, that, when she finished the course nine years later, -out of the original fifty there were only nine left: three girls and six -boys. Of the three girls, Prokhorova was the only one who attained -ballet’s coveted rank of _etoile_. - -Violetta finished her training at the time Moscow was being evacuated -against the Nazi invasion, and was sent on a three-thousand mile journey -to be a _ballerina_ at the ballet at Tashkent, Russian Turkestan. Here, -at the age of eighteen, she danced the leading roles in two works, _The -Fountain of Bakchissarai_, based on Pushkin’s famous poem, and _Don -Quixote_, the Minkus work of which contemporary American balletgoers -know only the famous _pas de deux_, but which I presented in America, -during the season 1925-1926, staged by Laurent Novikoff, with settings -and costumes by the great Russian painter, Korovin. - -Another point of interest about Elvin is that she was never a member of -the _corps de ballet_, for she was transferred from Tashkent to the -Bolshoi Ballet, which had been moved, for safety reasons, to Kuibyshev, -some five hundred miles from Moscow. In the early autumn of 1943, when -the Nazi horde had been driven back in defeat, the Ballet returned to -the Bolshoi, and Prokhorova danced important roles there. - -It was in Moscow, in 1945, that Violetta Prokhorova married Harold -Elvin, an architect associated with the British Embassy, and came with -him to London. On her arrival in London she became a member of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, first as a soloist, and later as _ballerina_. - -My own impressions are of a vibrant personality and a great beauty. Her -feet are extraordinarily beautiful, and, if I am any judge of the female -figure, I would say her body approximates the perfect classical -proportions. In her dancing, her Russian training is at all times -evident, for there is a charm of manner, a broad lyricism, coupled with -a splendid poise that are not the common heritage of all western -dancers. - -It begins to sound like an overworked cliché, but again we have that -rare quality in a dancer: intelligence. Once again, intelligence coupled -with striking beauty. Elvin’s interests include all the classics in -literature, the history of art, philosophy, museums, and good Russian -food. - -Already Elvin has had a film career, two motion pictures to date: _Twice -Upon a Time_, by the makers of _Red Shoes_, and the latest, the story of -the great British soprano, Nellie Melba, the title role of which is -played by Patrice Munsel. - -While engaged on the second American tour of the Sadler’s Wells company, -Violetta met an American, whom she has recently married. - -Talented far beyond average measure, Elvin is a true _ballerina_ in the -tradition of the Russian school and is ever alert to improve her art and -to give audiences something better than her best. - - -_NADIA NERINA_ - -I cannot fail to pay my respects to the young Nadia Nerina, today -another of the alternating _ballerinas_ of the company, with full -_ballerina_ standing, whom I particularly remember as one of the most -delightful and ebullient soloists of the company on its two American -visits. - -An example of the wide British Commonwealth base of the personnel of the -Sadler’s Wells company, Nadia Nerina is from South Africa, where she was -born in 1927. It was in Cape Town that she commenced her ballet studies -and had her early career; for she was a winner of the _South African -Dancing Times_ Gold Medal and, when she was fifteen, was awarded the -Avril Kentridge Shield in the Dance Festival at Durban. Moreover, she -toured the Union of South Africa and, when nineteen, went to London to -study at the Sadler’s Wells School. Very soon after her arrival, she -was dancing leading roles and was one of the _ballerinas_ of the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. - -Such was her success in Rosebery Avenue, and such the wisdom of Ninette -de Valois, that, within the year, Nerina was transferred to Covent -Carden. Today, as I have pointed out, she has been promoted to full -_ballerina_ status. - -It is a well-deserved promotion, for Nerina’s development has been as -sure as it has been steady. I have seen her in _Le Lac des Cygnes_ since -her ascendancy to full _ballerina_ rank, and have rejoiced in her fine -technical performance, as I have in the quality of her miming--something -that is equally true in Delibes’ _Sylvia_. - -It is characteristic of Ninette de Valois that she gives all her -_ballerinas_ great freedom within the organization. One is permitted to -go to Denmark, Norway, Sweden. Another to La Scala, Milan. Yet another -to films. An example of this desire on “Madame’s” part to encourage her -leading personnel to extend their experience and to prevent any spirit -of isolation, is the tour Nerina recently made through her native South -Africa, in company with her Sadler’s Wells partner, Alexis Rassine, -himself a South African. - -The outstanding quality in Nerina’s dancing for me is the sheer joy she -brings to it, a sort of love for dancing for its own sake. In everything -she does, there is the imprint of her own strong personality, her -vitality, and the genuine elegance she brings to the use of her sound -technique. - - -_ROWENA JACKSON_ - -During the first two American tours of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, a -young dancer who attracted an unusual amount of attention, particularly -in the Ashton-Lambert _Les Patineurs_, for her remarkable virtuosic -performance and her multiple turns, was Rowena Jackson. - -Today, Rowena Jackson is the newest addition to the Sadler’s Wells list -of _ballerinas_. - -Rowena Jackson is still another example of the width of the British -Commonwealth base of the Sadler’s Wells organization, having been born -in Invercargil, New Zealand, on the 24th March, 1926, where her father -was postmaster. Her first ballet training was at the Lawson-Powell -School, in New Zealand. It was in 1947 that the young dancer joined the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet. - -This rise of the British dancer more than fulfils the prophecy of The -Swan. It was thirty years ago that Pavlova said: “English women have -fine faces, graceful figures, and a real sense of poetry of dancing. -They only lack training to provide the best dancers of the world.” She -went on: “If only more real encouragement were given in England to -ballet dancers the day would not be far distant when the English dancer -would prove a formidable rival to the Russians.” - -Now that the British dancer has been given the encouragement, the truth -of Anna Pavlova’s prophecy is the more striking. - -As I have said, Rowena Jackson attracted attention throughout North -America in _Les Patineurs_, gaining a reputation for a surpassing -technical brilliance in turns. These turns, known as _fouetées_, I have -mentioned more than once. Legend has it that Jackson can do in excess of -one hundred-fifty of them, non-stop. It is quite incredible. - -Brilliance is one thing. Interpretation is another. When I saw Jackson -in _Le Lac des Cygnes_, my admiration for her and for Ninette de Valois -soared. Jackson’s Swan Queen proved to me that at Sadler’s Wells another -_ballerina_ had been born. (I nearly wrote “created”; but _ballerinas_ -are born, not made). As the Swan Queen she was all pathos and softness -and tenderness and protectiveness; to the evil Black Swan, Odile, she -brought the hard brittleness the role demands. - -Rowena Jackson’s future among the illustrious of the world of ballet -seems assured, and I shall watch her with interest, as I am sure will -audiences. - - -_SADLER’S WELLS THEATRE BALLET_ - -While I was in London after the close of the first American tour of the -Sadler’s Wells Covent Garden Ballet, I paid a visit to the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, the cradle of the organization. - -The Sadler’s Wells Theatre is in Rosebery Avenue, in the Borough of -Islington, now a middle-class residential section of London, but once a -county borough. For nearly three hundred years, the site of the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre has been used for entertainment purposes. Several theatres -have stood on the site, and while the dance has always been prominent in -its history, everything from tight-rope and wire-walking exhibitions to -performing dogs and dance troupes has been seen there. - -It was in 1683 that a certain Thomas Sadler, who was, apparently, a -Highway Surveyor, lived there in what was then Clerkenwell, and found a -well, actually a spring, having medicinal properties, in his garden. It -soon was regarded as a holy well, with healing powers attributed to it. -Hither came the halt, the blind and the sick to be cured, and Mr. Sadler -determined to commercialize his property. On his lawn he built his Musik -House, a long room with a stage, orchestra and seats for those partakers -of the waters who desired refreshments as well during their -imbibing--and he also provided entertainment. The well is still there -today, preserved under the present theatre, but is no longer used, and -the theatre’s water supply is from the municipal mains. - -Rebuilt, largely by public subscription, the present theatre was opened -in 1931, alternating opera and Shakespeare with the Old Vic, but -eventually it became the exclusive home and base of the Sadler’s Wells -Opera Company and the Sadler’s Wells Ballet Company. In 1946, when -Ninette de Valois accepted the invitation of the Covent Garden Opera -Trust to move the Sadler’s Wells Ballet company to the Royal Opera -House, Covent Garden, another company (actually the revival of another -idea, the Sadler’s Wells Opera Ballet) was established at the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, and called the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. - -Here, in a fine, comfortable, modern theatre, I saw a fresh young -company, with seasoned artists, first-class productions, and some -first-rate dancing: a company I felt America should know. - -There was an extensive repertoire of modern works by Frederick Ashton, -Ninette de Valois, and the rising young John Cranko, and others. The -Ashton works include _Façade_, the Ravel _Valses Nobles et -Sentimentales_; _Les Rendez-Vous_, to Auber music arranged by Constant -Lambert; and the charming _Capriol Suite_, to the music by Philip -Heseltine (Peter Warlock), inspired by Arbeau’s _Orchesographie_. There -were three works by Andrée Howard: _Assembly Ball_, to the Bizet -Symphony in C; _Mardi Gras_; and _La Fête Etrange_. Celia Franka had an -interesting work, _Khadra_, to a Sibelius score, with charming Persian -miniature setting and costumes by Honor Frost. The young South African -John Cranko, who had been a member of the Covent Garden company in the -first New York season, had a number of extremely interesting works, -including _Sea Change_; and Ninette de Valois had revived her _The -Haunted Ballroom_, to a Geoffrey Toye score, and the Lambert-Boyce _The -Prospect Before Us_. There were also sound classics, including _Swan -Lake_, in the second act version. - -The company, under the direction of Ninette de Valois, had a fine -dancer, Peggy van Praagh, as ballet mistress. - -It occurred to me that, by adding new elements and reviving full length -works, it would be an excellent thing to bring the company to the United -States and Canada for a tour following upon that of the Covent Garden -company. - -I discussed the matter with Ninette de Valois and David Webster, both of -whom were favorable to the idea; and, since it was impossible for the -Covent Garden company to come over for a third tour at that time, they -urged me to give further consideration to the possibility. - -On my next visit to London, I went over matters in detail with George -Chamberlain, Clerk to the Governors of Sadler’s Wells, and himself the -opposite number at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre to David Webster at Covent -Garden. I found Chamberlain equally cooperative and helpful, despite the -fact he has a wide variety of interests and responsibilities, including -the Sadler’s Wells Opera Company, the Old Vic, and the Sadler’s Wells -School. We have become close friends. Following our initial conferences, -we went into a series of them, in conjunction with Ursula Moreton, at -the time “Madame’s” assistant at Sadler’s Wells, and Peggy van Praagh, -the company’s ballet mistress. - -As a result of these discussions, it was agreed to increase the size of -the dancing personnel of the company from thirty-two to thirty-six, and -to bring to North America a repertoire of fourteen ballets, including -one full-length work, and to add to the roster one or two more principal -dancers. - -Handshakes all round sealed the bargain, and a contract was signed for a -twenty-two week season for 1951-52. - -It was on my return to London, in March, 1951, that I saw the _première_ -of the first of their new productions, _Pineapple Poll_, a ballet freely -adapted from the Bab Ballad, “The Bumbeat Woman’s Story,” by W. S. -Gilbert, with music by Arthur Sullivan, arranged by a young Australian, -Charles Mackerras, a conductor at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre. The -scenery and costumes were by Osbert Lancaster, noted architectural -historian and cartoonist, and the choreography by John Cranko, who had -worked in collaboration with Lancaster and Mackerras. - -The work had its first performance at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre on the -13th March, 1951. The entire programme I saw that night was made up of -Cranko works, and I found myself seated before a quartet of works, -highly varied in content and style, all of which interested me, some, to -be sure, more than others. The evening commenced with Cranko’s _Sea -Change_. A tragic work in a free style, a character ballet whose story -was moving, but a ballet in which I never felt music and movement quite -came together. The score was the orchestral piece, _En Saga_, by Jan -Sibelius. - -The new work, _Pineapple Poll_, was the second ballet of the evening. I -was enchanted with it. I had always been a Sullivan admirer, and here -were pieces from nigh on to a dozen of the Sullivan operas, woven -together with great skill and brilliant orchestration into a marvelous -integral whole by Charles Mackerras, a complete score in itself, as if -it might have been directly composed for the ballet. I watched the -dancers closely, and it was impossible for me to imagine a finer -interpretation. Elaine Fifield, in the title role, was something more -than piquant; she was a genuine _ballerina_, with a fascinating sense of -character, her whole performance highly intelligent. There was no -“mugging,” no “cuteness”; on the contrary, there were both humor and -wit, and I noted she was a beautifully “clean” dancer. David Blair was a -compelling officer, and his “hornpipe” almost on points literally -brought the house down. Three other dancers impressed me: Sheillah -O’Reilly, Stella Claire and David Poole. Osbert Lancaster’s sets were -masterful, both as sets and as architecture. This, I decided, was a -Cranko masterpiece, and it impressed me in much the same way as some of -Massine’s gay ballets. - -_Pineapple Poll_ was followed by a delicate fantasy by Cranko, _Beauty -and the Beast_, an extended _pas de deux_, set to some of Ravel’s -_Mother Goose Suite_, and beautifully danced by Patricia Miller and -David Poole, who were, I learned, a pair of South Africans from the -Sadler’s Wells School. - -The closing piece on the programme was another new ballet by Cranko, -_Pastorale_, which had been given its first performance earlier in the -season, just before Christmas. It was the complete antithesis of the -Sullivan ballet. This was a Mozart work, his _Divertimento No. 2_, and -choreography was Mozartian in feeling. It was a work of genuine charm, -delicacy and real humor that revealed to me the excellence of a -half-dozen of the principals of the company: Elaine Fifield and Patricia -Miller, whom I have already mentioned, and young Svetlana Beriosova, -the daughter of Nicholas Beriosoff, a former member of the Ballet Russe -de Monte Carlo. Svetlana was born in Lithuania in 1932, and had been -brought to America by her parents in 1940, when, off and on, she toured -with them in the days of my management of the Massine company, and -frequently appeared as the little child, Clara, in _The Nutcracker_. Now -rapidly maturing, she had been seen by Ninette de Valois in a small -English ballet company, and had been taken into the Sadler’s Wells -organization. The three ballerinas had an equal number of impressive -partners in _Pastorale_: Pirmin Trecu, David Poole and David Blair. - -I decided that _Pineapple Poll_, _Pastorale_ and _Beauty and the Beast_ -must be included in the repertoire for America, and that the first of -these could be a tremendous American success, a sort of British _Gaîté -Parisienne_. - -In further conversations and conferences, I pressed the matter of a -full-length, full-evening ballet. The work I wanted was Delibes’ -_Sylvia_. This is the famous ballet first given in Paris in 1876. I -recognised there would be problems to be solved over the story, but the -Delibes score is enchanting, delicate, essentially French; and is it not -the score which Tchaikowsky himself both admired and appreciated? -Moreover, a lot of the music is very well-known and loved. - -We agreed upon _Sylvia_ in principle, but “Freddy” Ashton, who was to -stage it, was too occupied with other work, and it was at last agreed to -substitute a new production of Delibes’ _Coppélia_, in a full-length, -uncut version, never seen in North America except in a truncated form. -It was, however, difficult indeed to achieve any progress, since every -one was occupied with work of one kind or another, and continuously -busy. Moreover, Dame Ninette was away from London in Turkey and -Jugoslavia, lecturing, teaching, and checking on the national ballet -schools she has organized in each of those countries, at the request of -their respective governments, with the cooperation of the British -Council. - -It was not until three o’clock one morning several weeks later that we -all managed to get together at one time and place to have a conference -on repertoire. The following day I saw another performance at the Wells, -and was a bit distressed. It was clear to me that it was going to be -necessary to increase the size of the company still further, and also to -be more selective in the choice and arrangement of the repertoire. - -There followed a period of intense preparation on the part of the -entire organization, with all of its attendant helter-skelter, and with -day and night rehearsals. Meanwhile, I discussed and arranged for the -production of a two-act production or version of _The Nutcracker_. The -opening scene of this Tchaikowsky classic has always bothered me, -chiefly because I felt it was dull and felt that, during its course, -nothing really happened. There is, if the reader remembers, a rather -banal Christmas party at which little Clara receives a nutcracker as a -present, goes to bed without it, comes downstairs to retrieve it, and is -forthwith transported to fairyland. I felt we would be better off to -start with fairyland, and to omit the trying prologue. Moreover, I felt -certain the inclusion of the work in this form would give added weight -to the repertoire for the North American tour, since _The Nutcracker_ -and Tchaikowsky are always well-liked and popular, as the box-office -returns have proven. - -On this visit I spent three weeks in London, flying back to New York -only to return to London three weeks later, to watch the company and to -do what I could to speed up the preparations so that the company might -be ready for the Canadian opening of the tour, the date of which was -coming closer and closer with that inevitability such matters display. - -The Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet and its entire organization showed -really tremendous energy and application, and did everything possible to -prepare themselves to follow the great American success of their sister -company, something that was, admittedly, a very difficult thing to do. - -Just before the company’s departure for the North American continent, it -gave a four-week “American Festival Season” at Sadler’s Wells, -consisting of the entire repertoire to be seen on this side of the -Atlantic. This season included another Cranko work I have not before -mentioned. It is _Harlequin in April_, a ballet commissioned for the -Festival of Britain by the Arts Council. While I cannot say that it is -the sort of piece that appeals to audiences by reason of its clarity, -there is no gainsaying that it is a major creation and a greatly to be -commended experiment, and, withal, a successful one. The choreographic -work of John Cranko, in collaboration with the composer, Richard Arnell, -and the artist-designer, John Piper, it was that much desired thing in -ballet: a genuine collaboration between those individuals responsible -for each aspect of it. - -Although there was no attempt to use it as a plot idea, for it is in no -sense a “literary” work, the idea for _Harlequin in April_ presumably -stemmed from the following lines from T. S. Eliot’s _The Waste Land_: - - April is the cruellest month, breeding - Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing - Memory and desire, stirring - Dull roots with spring rain.... - -I could not attempt to explain the work which, to me, consists solely of -atmosphere. I liked Richard Arnell’s score; but the ballet, as a ballet, -is one I found myself unable to watch very many times. Perhaps the -simplest answer is that it is not my favorite type of ballet. -Nevertheless, the fact remains it is a work of genuine distinction and -was warmly praised by discriminating critics. - -The first nights of the two classical works came a week apart. -_Coppélia_ was the first, on the night of the 4th September. It was, -indeed, a fine addition to the repertoire. There were, in the Sadler’s -Wells tradition, several casts; the first performance had Elaine -Fifield, as Swanilda; David Blair, as Frantz; and David Poole, as -Coppelius. - -I was not too happy with the three settings designed by Loudon -Sainthill, the Australian designer who had a great success at the -Shakespeare Festival Theatre, always feeling they were not sufficiently -strong either in color or design. However, as the first full-length, -uncut version of the Delibes classic, it was notable, as it also was -notable for the liveliness of its entire production and the zest and joy -the entire company brought to it. Elaine Fifield was miraculously right -as Swanilda, in her own special piquant style; David Blair was a most -attractive Frantz; and David Poole was the first dignified Coppelius I -had ever seen, with a highly original approach to the character. -Alternate casts for _Coppélia_ included Svetlana Beriosova as a quite -different and very effective Swanilda, and Maryon Lane, another South -African dancer of fine talent, with a personality quite different from -the other two, as were Donald Britton’s Frantz and Stanley Holden’s -Coppelius. - -The 11th of September revealed the new _Nutcracker_ I have mentioned. -Actually, without the Prologue, it became a series of Tchaikowsky -_divertissements_, staged with skill and taste under, as it happened, -great pressure, by Frederick Ashton. It was a two-scene work, utilizing -the Snow Flake and the Kingdom of Sweets scenes. Outstanding, to my way -of thinking, were Beriosova as the Snow Queen; Fifield and Blair in the -grand _pas de deux_; Maryon Lane in the Waltz of the Flowers. The most -original divertissement was the _Danse Arabe_. - -Following the first performance of _The Nutcracker_, I gave a large -party in honor of both companies: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden -Company and that from the Sadler’s Wells Theatre, at Victory Hall. - -In this godspeed to the sister company, Margot Fonteyn was, as usual, -very much on the job, always the good colleague, wishing Fifield and -Beriosova the same success in the States and Canada as she and her -colleagues of the Covent Garden company had enjoyed. From Covent Garden -also came David Webster, Louis Yudkin, and Herbert Hughes, “Freddy” -Ashton, and Robert Irving, the genial and able musical director of the -Ballet at Covent Garden, all to speed the sister company on its way, to -give them tips on what to see, what to do, and also on what _not_ to do. - -The reader will, I am sure, realize what a difficult thing it was for -the sister company to follow in the footsteps and the triumphant -successes of the company from Covent Garden. A standard of excellence -and grandeur had been set by them eclipsing any previously established -standards that had existed for ballet on the North American continent. - -It is a moot question just what the public and the press of America -expected from the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. For more than a year, -in all publicity and promotion, with all the means at our command, we -emphasized the differences between the two companies: in personnel, in -principal artists, in repertoire. We also carefully pointed out the -likenesses between them: the same base of operations, the same school, -the same direction, the same moving spirit, the same ideals, the same -purpose. - -The success of the company throughout the entire breadth of the United -States and Canada magnificently proved the wisdom of their coming. The -list of cities played is formidable: Quebec, Ottawa, Montreal, Toronto, -Buffalo, Rochester, Cleveland, Detroit, East Lansing, Grand Rapids, -Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Omaha, Des Moines, Denver, Salt Lake City, -Seattle, Portland, Vancouver, B.C., San Francisco, San José, Sacramento, -Fresno, Bakersfield, Los Angeles, San Antonio, Waco, Houston, Dallas, -Shreveport, Little Rock, Springfield, Mo., Kansas City, Chicago, St. -Louis, Nashville, Knoxville, Atlanta, Birmingham, Montgomery, New -Orleans, Daytona Beach, Orlando, Miami, and Miami Beach, Columbia, -Greensboro, Durham, Raleigh, Norfolk, Richmond, Washington--where for -the first time ballet played in a proper theatre--Philadelphia, -Pittsburgh, Columbus, Toledo, Cincinnati, Indianapolis, Syracuse, Troy, -White Plains, Providence, Hartford, Boston, and New York City. Perhaps -the most characteristic tribute to the company came from Alfred -Frankenstein, the distinguished critic of the _San Francisco Chronicle_, -who wrote: “This may not be the largest ballet company in the world, but -it is certainly the most endearing.” There is no question that the -mounting demand for the quick return of the company on the part of local -managers and sponsoring organizations and groups throughout the country -is another proof of the warmth of their welcome when they next come. - -The musical side of the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet revealed the same -high standards of the organization, under the direction of that splendid -young British conductor, John Lanchbery. Lanchbery, a thorough and -distinguished musician, not only was a fine conductor, but an extremely -sensitive ballet conductor, which is not necessarily the same thing. So -admired was he by the orchestra that, in San Francisco, the players -presented him with a lovely gift in a token of appreciation. - -During the entire association with the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet -there was always the warm cooperation of George Chamberlain, and the -fine executive ability and personal charm of their tour manager, Douglas -Morris. - -It is my sincere hope that, following the season 1953-54, they will be -able to make an even more extended tour of this continent. By that time, -some of the company’s younger members will have become more mature, and -the repertoire will have been strengthened and increased by the -accretion of two years. - -There is the seemingly eternal charge against ballet dancers. They are -either “too young” or else “too old.” The question I am forced to ask in -this connection is: What is the appropriate age for the personnel of a -ballet company, for a dancer? My answer is one the reader may anticipate -from previous references to the subject in this book: Artistry knows and -recognizes no age on the stage. Spiritually the same is true in life -itself. - -It is, of course, possible that, by that time, there may be some who -will refrain from referring to the members of the company as “juniors,” -and will realize that they are aware of the facts of life. Three years -will have elapsed since their first visit. During all this time they -will have been dancing regularly five or six times a week; will have -behind them not only London successes, but their Edinburgh Festival and -African triumphs as well. - -At the close of the American Festival Season in Rosebery Avenue, the -company entrained for Liverpool, there to embark in the _Empress of -France_. It was a gay crossing, but less gay than had been anticipated. -Originally, the _Empress_ was to have carried H.R.H. Princess Elizabeth, -and her husband, the Duke of Edinburgh, on their Royal Visit to the -Dominion of Canada. The ship’s owners, the Canadian Pacific Steamship -Company, had constructed a specially equipped theatre on the top deck, -where the company was to have given two performances for the Royal -couple. H.R.H., Princess Margaret is the Honorary President of the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet, and there is considerable royal interest -in ballet. Unfortunately, the serious illness of the King, and his -operation, necessitated a last moment change of plans on the part of -Princess Elizabeth and her husband, who made their crossing by plane. At -the last moment before sailing, the theatre was dismantled and removed. - -Two members of my staff made a long journey down the St. Lawrence, to -clamber aboard the _Empress_ at daybreak and to travel up the river with -the company to Quebec, the opening point of the tour. I had gone on to -Quebec to greet them, as had our American staff and orchestra from New -York. This was the same orchestra, the “American Sadler’s Wells -Orchestra,” that had constituted the splendid musical side of the Covent -Garden company’s two American seasons. There was no cutting of corners, -no sparing of expense to maintain the same high standards of production. -For those with an interest in figures, it might be noted that the -orchestra alone cost in excess of $10,000 weekly. - -Heading the company, and remaining with it until it was well on its way, -were Dame Ninette de Valois and George Chamberlain, with Peggy van -Praagh as “Madame’s” assistant, and ballet-mistress for the entire tour. - -There were three days of concentrated rehearsal and preparation before -the first performance in Quebec. Some difficulties had to be overcome, -for Quebec City is not the ideal place for ballet production. Lacking a -real theatre or opera house, a cinema had to be utilized, a house with a -stage far from adequate for a theatre spectacle, an orchestra pit far -too small for an orchestra the size of ours, and cramped quarters all -around. Nevertheless, a genuine success was scored. - -Following the Quebec engagement, the company moved to Ottawa by special -train--this time the “Sadler’s Wells Theatre Special.” The night journey -to Ottawa provided many of the company with their first experience of -sleeping-car travel of the American-type Pullman. Passing through one of -the cars on the way to my drawing-room before the train pulled out, I -overheard one of the _corps de ballet_ girls behind her green curtains, -obviously snuggling down for the night, sigh and say: “Oh, isn’t it just -lovely!... Just like in the films!” - -Ottawa was in its gayest attire, preparing for the Royal visit. The -atmosphere was festive. The Governor General and the Viscountess -Alexander of Tunis entertained the entire company at a reception at -Government House, flew afterwards to Montreal officially to welcome the -Royal couple, and flew back to attend the opening performance, as the -official representative of H.M. the King. Hundreds were turned away from -the Ottawa performances, and a particularly gay supper was given the -company after the final performance by the High Commissioner to Canada -for Great Britain, Sir Hugh and Lady Clutterbuck. - -Montreal, with its mixed French and English population, gave the company -a wholehearted acceptance and warm enthusiasm, by no means second to -that accorded the sister company. - -So the tour went, breaking box-office records for ballet in many cities, -including Buffalo, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Seattle, Portland, Vancouver -(where, for the eight performances, there was not a seat to be had four -weeks before the company’s arrival), Los Angeles, the entire state of -Florida, and Washington, where, as I have said, I had been successful in -securing a genuine theatre, Loew’s Capitol, and where, for the first -time ballet was seen by the inhabitants of our national capital with all -the theatrical appurtenances that ballet requires: scenery, lights, -atmosphere, instead of the mausoleum-like Constitution Hall, with its -bare platform backed only by a tapestry of the Founding Fathers. - -So the tour went for twenty-two weeks in a long, transcontinental -procession of cumulative success, with the finale in New York City. -Here, because of the unavailability of the Metropolitan Opera House, -since the current opera season had not been completed, it was necessary -to go to a film house, the Warner Theatre, the former Strand, where -Fokine and Anatole Bourman had, in the early days of movie house -“presentations,” staged weekly ballet performances, sowing the seeds for -present-day ballet appreciation. - -The Warner Theatre was far from ideal for ballet presentation, being -much too long for its width, giving from the rear the effect of looking -at the stage through reversed opera glasses or binoculars. Also, from an -acoustical point of view, the house left something to be desired as it -affected the sound of the exceptionally large orchestra. But it was the -only nearly suitable house available, and Ninette de Valois, who had -returned to the States for the Boston engagement, and had remained -through the early New York performances, found no fault with the house. - -Among the many problems in connection with the presentation of ballet, -none is more ticklish than that of determining on an opening night -programme in any metropolitan center, particularly New York. Many -elements have to be weighed one against the other. Should the choice be -one of a selection of one-act ballets, there is the necessity for -balancing classical and modern and the order in which they should be -given, after they have actually been decided on. In the case of the -Sadler’s Wells companies, featuring, as they do, full-length works -occupying an entire evening in performance, there is the eternal -question: which one? - -The importance of the first impression created cannot be overrated. More -often than not, in arriving at a decision of this kind, we listen to the -advice of everyone in the organization. All suggestions are carefully -considered, and hours are spent in discussion and the exchange of ideas, -and the reasons supporting those ideas. - -What was good in London may quite well be fatal in New York. What New -York would find an ideal opening programme might be utterly wrong for -Chicago. San Francisco’s highly successful and popular opening night -programme well might turn out to be Los Angeles’ poison. - -Whatever the decision may be, it is always arrived at after long and -careful thought; and, when reached, it is the best product of many -minds. It usually turns out to be wrong. - -If, as is often the case, the second night’s programme turns out to be -another story, there is the almost inevitable query on the part of the -critics: “Why didn’t you do this last night?” Many of them seem to be -certain that there must have been personal reasons involved in the -decision, some sort of private and individually colored favoritism being -exercised.... - -I smile and agree. - -The only possible answer is: “You’re right.... I’m wrong.” - - - - -Epilogue: Unborn Tomorrow - - -In the minds of many I am almost always associated with ballet more -frequently than I am with any other activity in the world of -entertainment. - -This simply is not true. - -While it is true that more than thirty years of my life have been -intensely occupied with the presentation of dance on the North American -continent, these thirty-odd years of preoccupation with the dance have -neither narrowed my horizon nor limited my interests. I have -simultaneously carried on my avowed determination, arrived at and -clarified soon after I landed as an immigrant lad from Pogar: to bring -music to the masses. As an impresario I am devoted to my concert -artists. - -The greatest spiritual satisfaction I have had has always sprung from -great music, and it has been and is my joy to present great violinists, -pianists, vocalists; to extend the careers of conductors; to give -artists of the theatre a wider public. All these have been and are -leaders in their various fields. My eyes and ears are ever open to -discover fresh new talents in this garden for nurturing and development. -At no time in the history of so-called civilization and civilized man -have they been more necessary. - -Throughout my career my interests have embraced the lyric and -“legitimate” theatres: witness the Russian Opera Company, the German -Opera Company, American operetta seasons, _revues_ such as the Spanish -_Cablagata_, and Katherine Dunham’s Caribbean compilations, as but two -of many; the Habima Theatre, in 1926, the Moscow Art Players, under -Michael Tchekhoff, in 1935, as representative of the latter. - -These activities have been extended, with increasing interest towards a -widening of cultural exchanges with the rest of the world: witness the -most recent highly successful season of the Madeleine Renault-Jean Louis -Barrault repertory company from Paris. For two seasons, the -distinguished British actor, director, and playwright, Emlyn Williams, -under my management, has brought to life, from coast to coast, the -incomparable prose of Charles Dickens in theatrical presentations that -have fascinated both ear and eye, performances that stemmed from a rare -combination of talent, dexterity, love, and intelligence. - -I am able to say, very frankly, that I am one impresario who has managed -artists in all fields. - -All these things, and more, have been done. For what they are worth, -they have been written in the pages of the history of the arts in our -time. They have become a part of the record. - -So it will be seen that only one part of my life has been concerned with -ballet. To list all the fine concert artists and companies I have -managed and manage would take up too much space. - -It is quite within the bounds of possibility that I shall do a third -book, devoted to life among the concert artists I have managed. It -could, I am sure, make interesting reading. - -If art is to grow and prosper, if the eternal verities are to be -preserved in these our times and into that unborn tomorrow which springs -eternally from dead yesterdays, there must be no cessation of effort, no -diminution of our energies. Thirty-odd years of dead yesterdays have -served only to whet my appetite, to stimulate my eagerness for what lies -round the corner and my desire to increase my contribution to those -things that matter in the cultural and spiritual life of that unborn -tomorrow wherein lies our future. - -I shall try to outline some of the plans and hopes I have in mind. -Before I do so, however, I should like to make what must be, however -heartfelt, inadequate acknowledgement to those who have so generously -helped along the way. If I were to list all of them, this chapter would -become a catalogue of names. To all of those who are not mentioned, my -gratitude is none the less sincere and genuine. Above all, no slight is -intended. Space permits only the singling out of a few. - -The year in which these lines are written has been singularly rich, -rewarding, and happy: climaxed as it was by the production and release -of the motion-picture film, _Tonight We Sing_, based on some experiences -and aspects of my life. If the film does nothing else, I hope it -succeeds in underlining the difference, in explaining the vast gulf that -separates the mere booker or agent from what, for want of a better term, -must be called an impresario, since it is a word that has been fully -embraced into the English language. Impresario stems from the Italian -_impresa_: an undertaking; indirectly it gave birth to that now archaic -English word “emprise,” literally a chivalrous enterprise. I can only -regard the discovery, promotion, presentation of talent, the financing -of it, the risk-taking, as the “emprise” of an “impresario.” - -The presentation of this film has been accompanied by tributes and -honors for which I am deeply and humbly grateful and which I cherish and -respect beyond my ability to express. - -None of these heights could have been scaled, none of these successes -attained, without the help, encouragement, and personal sacrifice of my -beloved wife, Emma. Her wise counsel in music, literature, theatre, and -the dance all stem from her deep knowledge as a lady of culture, an -artist and a musician, and from her studies at the Leningrad -Conservatory, her rich experience in the world’s cultural activities. -Her sacrifices are those great ones of the patient, understanding wife, -who, through the years, has had to endure, and has endured without -complaint, the loneliness of days and nights on end alone, when my -activities have taken me on frequent long trips about the world at a -moment’s notice, to the complete disruption of any normal family life. - -To my wife also goes my grateful thanks for restraining me from -undertakings doomed in advance to failure, as well as for encouraging me -in my determination to venture into pastures new and untried. - -At the head of that staff of loyal associates which carries on the -multifarious details of the organization on which depends the -fulfillment of much of what has been recited in these pages, is one to -whom my deepest thanks are due. She is that faithful and indispensable -companion of failures and successes, Mae Frohman. - -She is known intimately to all in this world of music and dance. -Without her aid I could not have been what I am today. It is impossible -for me to give the reader any real idea of the sacrifices she has made -for the success of the enterprises this book records: the sleepless -nights and days; the readiness, at an instant’s notice, to depart for -any part of the world to “trouble-shoot,” to make arrangements, to -settle disputes, to keep the wheels in motion when matters have come to -a dead center. - -The devoted staff I have mentioned, and on whom I rely much more than -they realize, receives, as is its due, my deep gratitude and -appreciation. I cannot fail to thank my daughter Ruth for her -understanding, her sympathy, her spiritual support. With all the changes -in her personal life and with her own problems, there has never been a -word of complaint. Never has she added her hardships to mine. It has -been her invariable custom to present her happiest side to me: to -comfort, to understand. In her and my two lovely grandchildren, I find a -comfort not awarded every traveller through this tortuous vale, and I -want to extend my sincere gratitude to her. - -It would not be possible for any one to have attained these successes -without the very great help of others. In rendering my gratitude to my -staff, I must point out that this applies not only to those who are a -part of my organization as these lines are written, but to those who -have been associated with me in the past, in the long, upward struggle. -We are still friends, and my gratitude to them and my admiration for -them is unbounded. - -During the many years covered in this account, my old friend and -colleague, Marks Levine, and I have shared one roof businesswise, and -one world spiritually and artistically. Without his warm friendship, his -subtle understanding, his wholehearted cooperation, and his rare sense -of humor, together with the help of his colleagues, and that of O. O. -Bottorf and his colleagues, many of the successes of a lifetime might -not have been accomplished. - -At this point in my life, I look with amazement at the record of an -immigrant lad from Pogar, arriving here practically penniless, and ask -myself: where in the world could this have happened save here? My -profoundest thanks go to this adopted country which has done so much for -me. Daily I breathe the prayer: “God bless this country!” - -In all that has been done and accomplished, and with special reference -to all of these wide-flung ballet tours, none of it could have been done -singlehanded. In nearly every country and in nearly every important -city there is a person who is materially responsible for the success of -the local engagement. Local engagements cumulatively make or break a -tour. - -This person is the local manager: that local resident who is often the -cultural mentor of the community of which he is an important member. It -is he who makes it possible for the members of his community to hear the -leading concert artists and musical organizations and to see and enjoy -ballet at its best. In these days of increasing encroachment on the part -of mechanical, push-button entertainment, it is the local manager to -whom the public must look for the preservation of the “live” culture: -the singer, the instrumentalist, the actor, the dancer, the painter, the -orchestra. - -In the early days of my managerial activities, when I did not have an -office of my own, merely desk space in the corner of a room in the -Chandler Building, in West Forty-Second Street, I shall never forget the -“daddy” of all the local managers, the late L. H. Behymer, of Los -Angeles, who traveled three thousand miles just to see what sort of -creature it was, this youngster who was bringing music to the masses at -the old New York Hippodrome. A life-long bond was formed between us, and -“Bee” and his hard-working wife, throughout their long and honorable -careers as purveyors of the finest in musical and dance art to the -Southwest, remained my loyal and devoted friends. - -This applies equally to all those workers in the vineyard, from East to -West, from North to South, in Europe and South America. It is the -friendly, personal cooperation of the local managers that helps make it -possible to present so successfully artists and companies across the -continent and the world we know. It is my very great pleasure each year, -at the close of their annual meetings in New York, to meet them, rub -shoulders, clasp hands, and discuss mutual problems. - -The music and ballet lovers of the United States and Canada owe these -people a debt; and when readers across the breadth of this great -continent watch these folk--men and women, often helped out by their -wives, their husbands, their children, striving to provide the finest -available in the music and dance arts for their respective -communities--do not imagine that they are necessarily accumulating -wealth by their activities. More often than not, they work late and long -for an idea and an ideal for very little material gain. - -Remember, if you will, that it is the industrious and enlightened local -manager, the college dean, the theatre manager, the public-spirited -women’s clubs and philanthropic organizations that make your music and -dance possible. - -In the arts as in life, amidst the blaze of noon there are watchers for -the dawn, awaiting the unborn tomorrow. I am of them. This book may, -conceivably, have something of historical value in portraying events and -persons, things and colleagues who have been, at one and the same time, -motivating factors in the development and growth and appreciation of the -dance in our sector of the western world. Though it has dealt, for the -most part, with an era that is receding, I have tried not to look back -either with nostalgia or regret. At the same time, I have tried not to -view the era through rosy spectacles. As for tomorrow, I am optimistic. -Without an ingrained and deeply rooted optimism much of what this book -records could not have come to pass. Despite the lucubrations of certain -Cassandras, I find myself unable to share their pessimism for the fate -of culture in our troubled times. We shall have our ups and downs, as we -have had throughout the history of man. - -I hold stubbornly to the tenet that man cannot live by bread alone, and -that those things of the spirit, those joys that delight the heart and -mind and soul of man, are indestructible. On the other hand, it is by no -means an easy trick to preserve them. While I agree with Ecclesiastes -that “the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart -of fools is in the house of mirth,” I nevertheless insist that it is the -supreme task of those who would profess or attain unto wisdom to exert -their last ounce of strength to foster, preserve, and encourage the -widest possible dissemination of the cultural heritage we possess. - -As these closing pages are written, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet from the -Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, is poised on the threshold of its -third North American visit, with a larger company and a more varied -repertoire than ever before. The latter, in addition to works I have -noted in these pages, includes the new Coronation ballet, _Homage to the -Queen_, staged by Frederick Ashton, to a specially commissioned score by -the young English composer, Malcolm Arnold, with setting and costumes by -Oliver Messel; _The Shadow_, with choreography by John Cranko, scenery -and costumes by John Piper, and the music is Erno von Dohnanyi’s _Suite -in F Sharp Minor_, which had its first performance at the Royal Opera -House, Covent Garden, on 3rd March, 1953. Included, of course, is the -new full-length production of _Le Lac des Cygnes_, with an entirely new -production by Leslie Hurry; _The Sleeping Beauty_; _Sylvia_; _Giselle_, -in an entirely new setting by James Bailey; _Les Patineurs_; a revival -of Ashton’s _Don Juan_; and Ravel’s _Daphnis and Chloe_, staged by -Ashton, making use of the full choral score for the first time in ballet -in America. - -Yet another impending dance venture and yet an additional aspect of -dance pioneering will be the first trans-continental tour of the Agnes -de Mille Dance Theatre. This is a project that has been in my mind for -more than a decade: the creation of an American dance theatre, with this -country’s most outstanding dance director at its head. For years I have -been an admirer of Agnes de Mille and the work she has done for ballet -in America, and for the native dance and dancer. In this, as in all my -activities, I have not solicited funds nor sought investors. - -It is the first major organization to be established completely under my -aegis, for which I have taken sole responsibility, financially and -productionwise. It has long been my dream to form a veritable American -dance company, one which could exhibit the qualities which make our -native dancers unique: joy in sheer movement, wit, exuberance, a sharp -sense of drama. - -It was in 1948 that Agnes and I began the long series of discussions -directed toward the creation of a completely new and “different” -company, one that would place equal accents on “Dance” and “Theatre.” - -For the new company Agnes has devised a repertoire ranging from the -story of an Eighteenth-Century philanderer through Degas-inspired -comments on the Romantic Era, to scenes from _Paint Your Wagon_, and -_Brigadoon_. Utilizing spoken dialogue and song, the whole venture moves -towards something new under the sun--both in Dance and in Theatre. - -The settings and costumes have been designed and created by Peggy Clark -and Motley; with the orchestrations and musical arrangements by Trudi -Rittman. - -With the new organization, Agnes will have freedom to experiment in what -may well turn out to be a new form of dance entertainment, setting a -group of theatre dances both balletic and otherwise, with her own -personalized type of dance movement, and a group of ballad singers, all -in a distinctly native idiom. - -In New York City, on the 15th January, 1954, I plan to inaugurate a -trans-continental tour of the Roland Petit Ballet Company, from Paris, -with new creations, and the quite extraordinary Colette Marchand, as his -chief _ballerina_. - -In February, 1954, I shall extend my international dance activities to -Japan, when I shall bring that nation’s leading dance organization, the -Japanese Dancers and Musicians, for their first American tour. With this -fine group of artists, I shall be able to present America for the first -time with a native art product of the late Seventeenth century that is -the theatre of the commoner, stemming from Kabuki, meaning -“song-dance-skill.” - -The autumn of 1954 will see a still further extension of my activities, -with the introduction of the first full Spanish ballet to be seen on the -North American continent. - -We have long been accustomed to the Spanish dancer and the dance -concerts of distinguished Iberian artists; but never before have -Americans been exposed to Spanish ballet in its full panoply, with a -large and numerous company, complete with scenery, costumes, and a large -orchestra. It has long been my dream to present such an organization. - -At last it has been realized, when I shall send from coast to coast the -Antonio Ballet Espagnol, which I saw and greatly admired on my visit to -Granada in the summer of 1953. - -On the purely musical side, there is a truly remarkable chamber ensemble -from Italy, which will also highlight the season of 1954. It is I -Musici, an ensemble of twelve players, ranging through the string -family, including the ancient _viola di gamba_, and sustained by the -_cymbalon_; and specializing in early Italian music, for the greater -part. This organization has the high and warm recommendation of Arturo -Toscanini, who vastly admires them and their work. - -I have reserved, in the manner of the host holding back the most -delectable items of a feast until the last, two announcements as -climactic. - -I have concluded arrangements with England’s Old Vic to present on the -North American continent their superlative new production of -Shakespeare’s _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_, staged by Michael Benthall, -with really magnificent settings and costumes by James Bailey. - -The cast will include Robert Helpmann, as Oberon, and Moira Shearer, as -Titania, with outstanding and distinguished British actors in the other -roles; and, utilizing the full Mendelssohn score, the production will -have a ballet of forty, choreographed by Robert Helpmann. - -The production will be seen at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, -in mid-September, 1954, for a season, to be followed by a short tour of -the leading cities of the United States and Canada. - -This will, I feel, be one of the most significant artistic productions -to be revealed across the continent since the days of Max Reinhardt’s -_The Miracle_. It gives me great personal satisfaction to be able to -offer this first of the new productions of London’s famous Old Vic. - -The other choice tid-bit to which I feel American dance lovers will look -forward with keen anticipation is the coast-to-coast tour of London’s -Festival Ballet with Toumanova as guest star. - -The Festival Ballet was founded by Anton Dolin for the British Festival, -under the immediate patronage of H.H. Princess Marie Louise. Dr. Julian -Braunsweg is its managing director. - -It has grown steadily in stature and is today one of Europe’s best known -ballet companies. Under the artistic direction of Anton Dolin it has -appeared with marked success for several seasons at the Royal Festival -Hall, London; has toured Britain, all western Europe; and, in the spring -of 1953, gave a highly successful two weeks’ season in Montreal and -Toronto, where it received as high critical approval as ever accorded -any ballet company in Canada. - -There is a company of eighty, and a repertoire of evenly balanced -classics and modern creations, including, among others, the following: a -full-length _Nutcracker_, _Giselle_, _Petrouchka_, _Swan Lake_, (_Act -I_), _Le Beau Danube_, _Schéhérazade_, _Symphonic Impressions_, _Pas de -Quatre_, _Bolero_, _Black Swan_, _Vision of Marguerite_, _Symphony for -Fun_, _Pantomime Harlequinade_, _Don Quixote_, _Les Sylphides_, _Le -Spectre de la Rose_, _Prince Igor_, _Concerto Grosso_. - -This international exchange of ballet companies is one of the bulwarks -of mutual understanding and sympathy. It is a source of deep -gratification to me that I have been instrumental in bringing the -companies of the Sadler’s Wells organization, the Ballet of the Paris -Opera, and others to North America, as it is that I have been able to be -of service in arranging for the two visits of the New York City Ballet -to London. It is through the medium of such exchanges, presenting no -language barriers, but offering beauty as a common bond, that we are -able to bridge those hideous chasms so often caused by misunderstood -and, too often, unwise and thoughtlessly chosen words. - -In unborn tomorrows I hope to extend these exchanges to include not only -Europe, but our sister republics to the South, and the Far East, with -whom now, more than ever, cultural rapport is necessary. We are now -reaching a time in America when artistic achievement has become -something more than casual entertainment, although, in my opinion, -artistic endeavor must never lose sight of the fact that entertainment -there must be if that public so necessary to the well-being of any art -is not to be alienated. The role of art and the artist is, through -entertainment, to stimulate and, through the creative spirit, to help -the audience renew its faith and courage in beauty, in universal ideals, -in love, in a richer and fuller imaginative life. Then, and only then, -can the audience rise above the mundane, the mediocre, the monotonous. - -During the thirty-odd years I have labored on the American musical and -balletic scene, I have seen a growth of interest and appreciation that -has been little short of phenomenal. Yet I note, with deep regret, that -today the insecurities of living for art and the artist have by no means -lessened. Truth hinges solely on the harvest, and how may that harvest -be garnered with no security and no roof? - -More than once in the pages of this book I have underlined and lamented -the passing of the great, generous Maecenas, the disappearance, through -causes that require no reiteration, of such figures as Otto H. Kahn, -whose open-hearted and open-pursed generosity contributed so inestimably -to the lyric and balletic art of dead yesterday. I have detailed at some -length the government support provided for the arts by our financially -less fortunate cousins of Great Britain, South America, and Europe. The -list of European countries favoring the arts could be extended into a -lengthy catalogue of nations ranging from Scandinavia to the -Mediterranean, on both sides of that unhappy screen, the “Iron Curtain.” - -Here in the United States, the situation becomes steadily grimmer. -Almost every artistic enterprise worth its salt and scene painter, its -bread and choreographer, its meat and conductor, is in the perpetual -necessity of sitting on the pavement against the wall, hat in hand, -chanting the pitiful wail: “Alms, for the love of Art.” Vast quantities -of words are uttered, copious tears of regret are shed about and over -this condition at art forums, expensive cocktail parties, and on the -high stools of soda fountains. A great deal is said, but very little is -done. - -The answer, in my opinion, will not be found until the little voices of -the soda fountain, the forums, the cocktail parties, unite into one -superbly unanimous chorus and demand a government subsidy for the arts. -I am not so foolish as to insist that government subsidy is the complete -and final cure for all the ills to which the delicate body is heir; but -it can provide, in a great national theatre, a roof for the creative and -performing artists of ballet, opera, theatre, and music. More than -anything else, the American ballet artist needs a roof, under which to -live, to create, and hold his being in security. Such a step would be -the only positive one in the right direction. - -It is only through governmentally subsidized theatres, or one type of -subsidy or another, that ballet, opera, music, the legitimate theatre -may become a living and vital force in the everyday life of the American -people, may belong to the masses, instead of being merely a place of -entertainment for a relatively small section of our population. We have -before us the example of the success of government subsidy in the -British Arts Council and in the subsidized theatres of other European -countries. How can we profit by these examples? - -A national opera house is the first step. Such a house should not, in my -opinion, be in New York. It should, because of the size of the country, -be much more centrally situated than in our Eastern metropolis. Since -the area of Great Britain is so much smaller than the United States, our -planning of government subsidy would, of necessity, be on a much larger -scale. In many of the countries where ballet and music have the benefit -of government subsidy, government ownership of industry is an accepted -practice. Yet the government theatre subsidy is managed without stifling -private enterprise. - -I am quite aware that securing a national subsidy for the arts in this -country will be a long, difficult and painful process. It will require, -before all else, a campaign of education. We must have an increasing -world-consciousness, a better understanding of our fellow humans. We -must develop a nation of well-educated and, above all, thinking people, -who will do everything in their power to make a full-rounded life -available to every man and woman in the nation. - -Only during the days of the WPA, in the ’30’s, has the United States -government ever evinced any particular interest in the arts. I cannot -hope that the present materialistic attitude of our lawmakers will -cause them to look with much favor on things of the spirit. The attitude -of our government towards the arts is noteworthy only for its complete -lack of interest in them or care for them. In the arts, and notably in -the ballet, it has the most formidable means and potential material for -cultural propaganda. The stubbornness with which it insists upon -ignoring the only aspect of American cultural life that would really -impress and influence Europe is something that is, to me, incredible. It -is a rather sad picture. How long will it take us in our educational -process to understand that in the unborn tomorrow we, as a nation, will -be remembered only through our art rather than through our materialism -and our gadgets? - -Meanwhile, excellent and highly valuable assistance is being given by -such Foundations as the Ford Foundation and the Rockefeller Foundation. -The latter’s contribution to the New York City Center has been of -inestimable help to that organization. - -Certain municipalities, through such groups as the San Francisco Art -Commission, financed on the basis of four mills on the dollar from the -city tax revenues, the Art Commission of the County of Los Angeles, the -City of Philadelphia, among others, are making generous and valuable -contributions to the musical and artistic life of their communities. - -There are still to be mentioned those loyal and generous friends of the -arts who have contributed so splendidly to the appeals of orchestras -throughout the country, of the Metropolitan Opera Company, and the New -York City Center. - -But this, I fear, is not enough. The genuinely unfortunate aspect of the -overall situation is that we are so pitifully unable to supply an outlet -for our own extraordinary talent. For example, at an audition I attended -in Milan, out of the twenty-eight singers heard, sixteen of them were -Americans. This is but further evidence that our American talent is -still forced to go to Europe to expand, to develop, and to exhibit their -talents; in short, to get a hearing. - -In Italy today, with a population of approximately 48,000,000, there are -now some seventy-two full-fledged opera companies. - -In pre-war Germany with an approximate population of 70,000,000, there -were one hundred forty-two opera houses, all either municipally or -nationally subsidized. - -Any plan for government subsidy of the arts must be a carefully thought -out and extensive one. It should start with a roof, beginning slowly -and expanding gradually, until, from beneath that roof-tree, companies -and organizations would deploy throughout the entire country and, -eventually, the world. Eventually, in addition to ballet, music, opera, -and theatre, it should embrace all the creative arts. Education in the -arts must be included in the subsidization, so that the teacher, the -instructor, the professor may be regarded as equal in importance to -doctors, lawyers, engineers, and politicians, instead of being regarded -as failures, as they so often regrettably are. - -Until the unborn tomorrow dawns when we can find leaders whose -understanding of these things is not drowned out by the thunder of -material prosperity and the noise of jostling humanity, leaders with the -vision and the foresight to see the benefit to the country and the world -from this kind of thing, and who, in addition to understanding and -knowing these things, possess the necessary courage and the -indispensable stamina to see things through, we shall have to continue -to fight the fight, to grasp any friendly hand, and, I fear, continue to -watch the sorry spectacle of the arts squatting in the market-place, -basket in lap, begging for alms for beauty. - -So long as I am spared, I shall never cease to present the best in all -the arts, so that the great public may have them to enjoy and cherish; -so that the artists may be helped to attain some degree of that security -they so richly deserve, against that day when an enlightened nation can -provide them a home and the security that goes with it. - -With all those who are of it, and all those whose lives are made a -little less onerous, a little more tolerable, to whom it brings glimpses -of a brighter unborn tomorrow, I repeat my united hurrah: Three Cheers -for Good Ballet! - - - - -INDEX - - -Abbey Theatre (Dublin), 217 - -Academy of Music (Brooklyn), 81 - -Adam, Adolphe, 246 - -Adelphi Theatre (New York), 158 - -_Aglae or The Pupil of Love_, 157 - -Aldrich, Richard, 23 - -_Alegrias_, 48, 55, 56 - -_Aleko_, 156, 172 - -Alexander of Tunis, Viscount and Viscountess, 307 - -Alhambra Theatre (London), 111 - -_Alice in Wonderland_, 318 - -_Alicia Markova, Her Life and Art_, 205 - -All Star Imperial Russian Ballet, 80, 87 - -Alonso, Alicia, 152 - -_Ambassador_ (a publication), 231 - -Ambassador Hotel (Los Angeles), 249 - -Amberg, George, 112 - -American Ballet, 136, 158 - -American Federation of Musicians, 62 - -_Amoun and Berenice_, 102 - -André, Grand Duke of Russia, 69 - -Andreu, Mariano, 129, 135 - -Andreyev, Leonide, 285 - -_Antic, The_, 76 - -_Antiche Danze ed Arie_, 150 - -Antonio Ballet Espagnol, 317 - -_Aphrodite_, 93 - -_Apollon Musagète_, 158, 172 - -_Apparitions_, 236, 239, 270, 273 - -_Apres-Midi d’un Faune, L’_ (_Afternoon of a Faun_), 78, 115 - -Arbeau, Thoinot, 298 - -Archives Internationales de la Danse, 49 - -Arensky, Anton, 102, 121 - -Argentina, 47 - -Argentinita (Encarnacion Lopez), 53-58, 135, 139, 204 - -Argyle, Pearl, 78 - -Armstrong, John, 239 - -Arnell, Richard, 302, 303 - -Arnold, Malcolm, 315 - -Art Commission of the County of Los Angeles, 321 - -Asafieff, Boris, 96, 98 - -Ashcroft, Peggy, 222 - -Ashton, Frederick, 74, 78, 79, 136, 137, 141, 201, 220, 230, 237, 238, -239, 240, 246, 247, 254, 258, 264, 268-272, 277, 278, 279, 283, 285, -290, 292, 296, 298, 301, 303, 304, 315, 316 - -Astafieva, Seraphine, 200, 201, 255 - -Atlee, Clement, 221 - -_Aubade_, 129 - -_Aubade Heroique_, 274, 278 - -_Assembly Ball_, 298 - -Auber, Francois, 270, 273, 298 - -Auditorium Theatre (Chicago), 114 - -Auric, Georges, 121, 122 - -_Aurora’s Wedding_, 121, 152 - -Avril Kentridge Medal, 295 - -Aveline, Albert, 215 - -_Azayae_, 19 - - -_Bacchanale_, 135 - -Bach, Johann Sebastian, 129, 270, 278 - -_Bahiana_, 60 - -Bailey, James, 246, 316, 317 - -_Baiser de la Fée_ (_The Fairy’s Kiss_), 136 - -Bakst, Leon, 76, 118, 123 - -_Bal, Le_ (_The Ball_), 122 - -_Balabile_, 273 - -Balakireff, Mily, 94, 121 - -Balanchine, George (Georgi Balanchivadze), 65, 70, 107, 110, 121, 129, -136, 140, 142, 143, 157, 158, 161, 168, 172, 201, 215 - -Baldina, Maria, 85 - -Balieff, Nikita, 49, 111 - -Ballet and Opera Russe de Paris, 108, 109 - -Ballet Associates in America, 174, 195 - -Ballet Benevolent Fund, 277 - -Ballet Club (London), 78, 79, 106, 201, 217, 269 - -_Ballet Go-Round_, 205 - -_Ballet Imperial_, 256 - -Ballet Intime, 90 - -_Ballet Mecanique_, 172 - -Ballet Rambert, 79, 217, 225, 226, 269 - -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, 59, 103, 107, 110, 125, 129, 130, 134, -135, 136, 137, 139, 140, 143, 145, 150, 151, 153, 154, 157, 168, 200, -201, 202, 204, 206, 269, 301 - -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo (special reference; de Basil), 105, 106, 116 - -Ballets 1933, Les, 110, 158, 168 - -Ballet Theatre Foundation, 179 - -Ballet Theatre (known in Europe as “American National Ballet Theatre”), -81, 90, 103, 146, 147-182, 183, 184, 190, 193, 202, 204, 206, 225, 246 - -_Balustrade_, 142 - -Bandbox Theatre (New York), 76 - -Banks, Margaret, 184 - -_Barbara_, 50 - -Barbiroli, Sir John, 226 - -Bardin, Micheline, 215 - -Baronova, Irina, 70, 107, 111, 112, 114, 123, 130, 132, 140, 142, 143, -144, 151, 152, 153, 156, 157, 168, 195 - -Barrault, Jean Louis, 311 - -_Barrelhouse_, 60 - -Barrientos, Maria, 95 - -Bartok, Bela, 175 - -Baylis, Lilian, 218 - -Beaton, Cecil, 122, 195, 239 - -_Beau Danube, Le_, 110, 112, 119, 122, 132, 136, 140, 318 - -Beaumont, Count Etienne de, 122 - -_Beauty and the Beast_, 300, 301 - -Beecham, Sir Thomas, 159, 160, 221 - -Beethoven, Ludwig von, 29, 30, 96, 98, 135 - -Begitchev, 237 - -Behymer, Mr. and Mrs. L. H., 314 - -Belasco, David, 97 - -_Belle Hélene, La_, 157 - -Belle, James Cleveland, 231, 243 - -Bellini, Vincenzo, 157 - -Belmont, Mrs. August, 230 - -_Beloved One, The_, 153, 172 - -Benavente, Jacinto, 57 - -Bennett, Robert Russell, 135 - -Benois, Alexandre, 71, 118, 123, 142, 203 - -Benois, Nadia, 79 - -Benthall, Michael, 239, 317 - -Bérard, Christian, 135 - -Berlioz, Hector, 115, 122, 195, 239 - -Beriosoff, Nicholas, 301 - -Beriosova, Svetlana, 301, 303, 304 - -Berman, Eugene, 137 - -Berners, Lord, 240, 270, 273 - -Bernhardt, Sarah, 81, 195 - -Bernstein, Leonard, 161 - -Bielsky, V., 95 - -_Billy Budd_, 281 - -_Billy the Kid_, 150, 156 - -Bizet, Georges, 122, 215, 298 - -_Black Ritual_, 172 - -_Black Swan_, 318 - -Blair, David, 300, 301, 303, 304 - -Blake, William, 218, 238 - -Blareau, Richard, 215 - -Bliss, Sir Arthur, 239, 240, 241, 279, 281, 284 - -Bloch, Mrs. (Manager Loie Fuller), 37, 38, 39 - -_Blonde Marie_, The, 50 - -Blot, Robert, 215 - -_Bluebeard_, 103, 153, 171 - -Blum, Léon, 108 - -Blum, René, 103, 106, 107, 108, 110, 114, 116, 125, 128, 129, 136, 140, -216 - -Boccherini, Luigi, 122 - -_Bogatyri_, 135 - -_Bolero_, 318 - -Bolm, Adolph, 74, 88-91, 94, 95, 96, 105, 149, 157, 164, 172, 173, 175, -176 - -Bolshoi Theatre (Moscow), 67, 80, 85, 87, 228, 294 - -Boosey and Hawkes, 211, 220, 221, 224, 229, 280 - -Boretzky-Kasadevich, Vadim, 168 - -Borodin, Alexander, 94, 122 - -Borodin, George, 230 - -Boston Opera House, 260 - -Boston Public Library, 129 - -Boston Symphony Orchestra, 166 - -Bottord, O. O., 313 - -Bouchene, Dmitri, 129 - -Bouchenet, Mme., 196 - -Boult, Sir Adrian, 226 - -_Bourgeois Gentilhomme, Le_, 110, 121 - -Bourman, Anatole, 308 - -_Boutique Fantasque, La_, 119, 122, 132, 136, 172 - -Bowman, Patricia, 147 - -Boyce, William, 298 - -Boyd Neel String Orchestra, 226 - -Boyer, Lucienne, 49 - -Bozzini, Max, 215 - -Brae, June, 241 - -Brahms, Johannes, 115, 122 - -Braunsweg, Julian, 213, 318 - -Breinin, Raymond, 162 - -_Brigadoon_, 316 - -British Arts Council, 77, 211, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227, 228, -229, 236, 287, 288, 302, 320 - -British Broadcasting Corporation, 227, 276 - -British Council, 220, 221, 225, 226, 227, 236, 259, 261, 267, 301 - -British Film Institute, 221 - -British Ministry of Information, 287 - -Britten, Benjamin, 222, 274, 281 - -Britton, Donald, 303 - -Brown, John, 98 - -Bruce, Henry, 73 - -_Bulerias_, 48, 55 - -Bulgakoff, Alexander, 76 - -_Burleske_, 160 - -Burra, Edward, 239, 247 - -Butsova, Hilda, 80, 105 - - -_Cabin in the Sky_, 59 - -_Cablagata_, 311 - -Cadogan, Sir Alexander, 234 - -_Cain and Abel_, 194 - -_Cachucha_, 18 - -_Camille_, 195 - -_Carib Song_ (_Caribbean Rhapsody_), 63 - -Carmela, 48, 49 - -_Carmen_, 218 - -Carmita, 48, 49 - -_Carnaval_, 102, 103, 121, 128, 152, 171, 219, 255 - -Camargo Society (London), 78, 106, 201, 217, 218, 221, 228, 238, 269, -273, 287 - -_Capriccio Espagnol_, 56, 98, 135, 172 - -_Capriccioso_, 172 - -_Capriol Suite_, 269, 298 - -Carnegie Hall (New York), 33 - -Caruso, Enrico, 18, 81, 101 - -Cassandre, 129 - -Castellanos, Julio, 155 - -Chagall, Marc, 156 - -Castle Garden (New York), 16 - -_Castor and Pollux_, 215 - -Caton, Edward, 194 - -_Caucasian Dances_, 98 - -_Caucasian Sketches_, 98 - -Cecchetti, Enrico, 70, 78, 172 - -Celli, Vincenzo, 198 - -C. E. M. A., 222, 223, 224, 226 - -_Cendrillon_, 103, 141 - -Center Theater (New York), 148, 149 - -Century of Progress Exhibition, 59 - -Century Theatre (New York), 32, 93, 102, 196 - -Chabrier, Emanuel, 121, 273 - -Chaliapine, Feodor, 17, 25, 26, 27, 242 - -Chaliapine, Lydia, 49 - -Chaliapine, “Masha,” 26, 27 - -Chamberlain, George, 299, 305, 306 - -_Chansons Populaires_, 55 - -Chaplin, Charles, 50, 249 - -Chappell, William, 78, 79 - -Charisse, Cyd, 249 - -_Chauve Souris_, 211 - -Chase, Lucia, 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 154, 157, 164, 166, 167, -170, 173, 174, 177, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 202 - -Chase, William (“Bill”), 44, 45 - -_Cimarosiana_, 122 - -Charnley, Michael, 79 - -Chateau Frontenac (Quebec), 259, 262 - -_Chatte, La_, 201 - -Chauviré, Yvette, 215 - -_Checkmate_, 241, 246, 254, 284 - -Chesterton, G. K., 275 - -Chicago Allied Arts, 90, 105 - -Chicago Civic Opera Company, 86 - -Chicago _Daily News_, 185 - -Chicago Opera Company, 90, 149 - -Chicago Opera House, 59, 151, 184, 185, 253 - -Chicago Public Library, 286 - -Chirico, 122, 142 - -Chopin, Frederic, 97, 121, 195 - -_Choreartium_, 115, 122 - -Christ’s Hospital (London), 273 - -_Christmas_, 255 - -Church of St. Bartholomew the Great (London), 278, 279 - -Church of St. Martin’s in-the-Fields (London), 278 - -Churchill, John, 278 - -Churchill, Sir Winston, 275 - -_Cinderella_, 141, 236, 237, 256, 269, 270, 271, 283, 290 - -City of Philadelphia, 321 - -Claire, Stella, 300 - -Clark, Peggy, 316 - -Clustine, Ivan, 21, 24 - -Clutterbuck, Sir Hugh and Lady, 307 - -_Cléopatre_ 76, 102, 121 - -Cleveland Institute, 33 - -Cobos, Antonio, 194 - -Colon Theatre (Buenos Aires), 273 - -Colonel de Basil’s Ballet Russe, 116 - -Colt, Alvin, 164, 198 - -_Comus_, 273 - -_Concerto for Orchestra_, 175 - -_Concerto Grosso_, 318 - -_Concurrence, La_, 110, 112, 121 - -Condon, Natalia, 198 - -Conrad, Karen, 152 - -_Constantia_, 190, 194 - -Constitution Hall (Washington, D.C.), 256, 307 - -Continental Revue, 49 - -Copeland, George, 32 - -Copland, Aaron, 150, 156 - -Copley, Richard, 44 - -Copley-Plaza Hotel (Boston), 129 - -_Coppélia_, 19, 87, 96, 129, 136, 156, 172, 173, 219, 229, 256, 301, 303 - -_Coq d’Or, Le_, 90, 94, 95, 96, 98, 103, 115, 121, 135, 140 - -Coralli, Jean, 246 - -_Cotillon, Le_, 110, 121, 142, 168 - -_Counterfeiters, The_, 115 - -Council for the Education of H. M. Forces, 287 - -Cotten, Joseph, 249 - -Covent Garden Ballet Russe, 116 - -Covent Garden Opera Company, 223, 224, 227 - -Covent Garden Opera Syndicate, 223 - -Covent Garden Opera Trust, 208, 211, 223, 224, 225, 261, 280, 298 - -Coward, Noel, 222 - -_Cracovienne, La_, 18 - -Craig, Gordon, 31, 36 - -Cranko, John, 298, 299, 300, 302, 315 - -Cravath, Paul D., 112 - -_Creation du Monde, La_, 218 - -Cripps, Sir Stafford, 221, 256 - -Crowninshield, Frank, 33 - -_Crystal Palace_, The, 215 - - -_Dagestanskaya Lesginka_, 102 - -_Daily Telegraph_ (London), 287 - -Dalcroze, Jacques, 39, 77, 288 - -Dali, Salvador, 57, 135 - -_Damnation of Faust, The_, 195, 198 - -Damrosch, Walter, 31 - -_Dancing Times_ (London), 287 - -Dandré, Victor, 24, 132, 141 - -Danilova, Alexandra, 59, 67, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 122, 128, 129, 201 - -_Dance of the Sylphs_, 195 - -_Danse de Feu_, 38 - -_Danse, La_, 87 - -_Danses Sacré et Profane_, 142 - -_Danses Slaves et Tsiganes_, 122 - -_Danses Tziganes_, 98 - -_Dante Sonata_, 246, 247, 256, 270, 273 - -Danton, Henry, 240 - -_Daphnis and Chloe_, 316 - -_D’après une lecture de Dante_, 247 - -Dargomijsky, Alexander, 122 - -_Dark Elegies_, 172 - -Darrington Hall, 52 - -_Daughter of Pharaoh_, 85 - -_Day in a Southern Port, A_, 270 - -_Days of Glory_, 168 - -_Death and the Maiden_, 171 - -_Deaths and Entrances_, 65 - -de Basil, Colonel W., 103, 105, 107, 108, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, -116, 117, 120, 121, 122, 123, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, -133, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 148, 151, 158, 160, -165, 168, 173, 183, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, -196, 197, 204, 244, 289 - -Debussy, Claude, 142 - -de Cuevas, Marquessa, 184, 191 - -de Cuevas, Marquis Georges, 57, 149, 168, 190, 191, 192, 194, 195, 196 - -Degas, 316 - -de la Fontaine, Jean, 215 - -Delarova, Eugenia, 111, 114, 123, 129 - -De La Warr, Lord, 222 - -Delibes, Léo, 19, 74, 96, 129, 136, 156, 215, 220, 296, 301, 303 - -Delius, Frederick, 158, 159, 270 - -dello Joio, Norman, 164 - -de Maré, Rolf, 49 - -de Mille, Agnes, 59, 85, 149, 150, 160, 161, 172, 174, 316 - -de Mille, Cecil B., 85 - -de Mille Dance Theatre, Agnes, 316 - -de Molas, Nicolas, 153 - -Denham, Sergei I., 125, 126, 127, 128 - -129, 137,143, 144, 157 - -de Pachmann, Vladimir, 81 - -Derain, André, 123, 129 - -de Valois, Ninette, 78, 90, 106, 201, 210, 212, 217, 218, 220, 222, -224, 228, 229, 230, 232, 233, 234, 238, 239, 241, 243, 246, 247, 248, -251, 252, 253, 255, 262, 264, 268, 269, 273, 277, 278, 279, 280, 283, -284, 285, 286, 287, 292, 293, 296, 297, 298, 299, 301, 306, 308 - -_Devil’s Holiday_, 136, 137, 269 - -Diaghileff Ballets Russes, 40, 43, 71, 72, 73, 75, 76, 77, 78, 86, 89, -105, 200, 201, 203, 204, 217, 255, 269 - -Diaghileff, Serge, 23, 40, 53, 67, 69, 71, 72, 74, 76, 77, 78, 80, 82, -85, 89, 90, 93, 94, 95, 102, 105, 106, 107, 110, 111, 112, 117, 118, -120, 121, 122, 127, 128, 130, 132, 137, 142, 145, 161, 172, 173, 175, -186, 197, 200, 201, 203, 204, 205, 217, 221, 273, 275, 287, 289 - -Dickens, Charles, 311 - -d’Indy, Vincent, 215 - -Dior, Christian, 258 - -Dillingham, Charles B., 12, 19, 20, 102 - -_Dim Lustre_, 160, 172 - -_Divertissement_, 205 - -_Divertissement_ (Tchaikowsky), 215 - -Dixieland Band, 59 - -Doboujinsky, Mstislav, 122, 129, 155, 160 - -Dohnanyi, Erno von, 315 - -Dolin, Anton, 53, 57, 84, 90, 103, 142, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 157, -160, 161, 168, 172, 174, 175, 184, 195, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, -204-207, 218, 219, 238, 255, 283, 318 - -Dollar, William, 194 - -_Don Domingo_, 155, 172 - -_Don Juan_, 103, 129, 316 - -_Don Quixote_, 86, 294, 318 - -_Don Quixote_ (Gerhard), 246, 247 - -Dorati, Antal, 114, 122, 141, 142, 151, 153, 157, 159, 167, 178 - -Dostoevsky, 36 - -Drake Hotel (Chicago), 285, 286 - -Drury Lane Theatre (Royal) (London), 133, 134, 136, 201 - -Dubrowska, Felia, 142 - -Dufy, Raoul, 122 - -Dukas, Paul, 215 - -Dukelsky, Vladimir (Vernon Duke), 115, 122 - -Dukes, Ashley, 78 - -Dumas, Alexandre, 195, 198 - -Duncan, Augustin, 29, 32 - -Duncan, Elizabeth, 29 - -Duncan, Isadora, 28-36, 37, 40, 45, 47, 64, 65, 93 - -Duncan, Raymond, 29 - -Dunham, Katherine, 58-63, 139, 311 - -Duse, Eleanora, 81 - -Dushkin, Samuel, 142 - -Dvorak, Antonin, 152 - - -Edgeworth, Jane, 278 - -Edinburgh Festival, 278, 306 - -Educational Ballets, Ltd., 116, 132, 138 - -Eglevsky, André, 111, 114, 123, 125, 157, 158, 161, 184, 195, 198 - -_Egmont_, 98 - -Egorova, Lubov, 67, 71-72 - -_El Amor Brujo_, 56, 129 - -_El Café de Chinitas_, 56, 57 - -_Elegiac Blues_, 274 - -_Elements, Les_, 103, 129 - -_El Huayno_, 56 - -Eliot, T. S., 285, 303 - -Ellsler, Fanny, 18, 272 - -Elman, Misha, 17, 82 - -Elman, Sol, 81 - -Elmhirst Foundation, 52 - -_Elves, Les_, 103, 129 - -Elvin, Harold, 294 - -Elvin, Violetta, 237, 238, 292, 294-295 - -_Elvira_, 215 - -Empire Theatre (London), 73, 74 - -English Opera Group, Ltd., 225 - -English-Speaking Union, 260, 261 - -_En Saga_, 300 - -_Epreuve d’Amour, L’_, 103, 129 - -Erlanger, Baron Frederic d’, 103, 122, 132, 141 - -_Errante_, 158, 172 - -_Escales_, 215 - -Escudero, Vicente, 47-49, 53 - -Essenin, Serge, 31, 34 - -_Eternal Struggle, The_, 141 - -_Eugene Onegin_, 184 - -Ewing, Thomas, 180 - - -_Façade_, 236, 238, 246, 269, 276, 291, 298 - -_Facsimile_, 172 - -_Faery Queen, The_, 273 - -_Fair at Sorotchinsk_, 160, 172 - -_Fairy Doll_, 255 - -Falla, Manuel de, 56, 118, 122 - -_Fancy Free_, 160, 161, 172, 174 - -_Fandango_, 56 - -_Fantasia_, 198 - -Farrar, Geraldine, 81 - -_Farruca_, 48 - -_Faust_, 218 - -Federal Dance Theatre, 59 - -Fedorova, Alexandra, 136 - -Fedorovitch, Sophie, 79, 240, 247 - -Fernandez, José, 172 - -Fernandez, Royes, 198 - -Festival Ballet (London), 158, 202, 206, 318 - -Festival Theatre (Cambridge University), 217 - -_Fête Etrange, La_, 298 - -Field, Marshall, 32 - -Fifield, Elaine, 200, 202, 304 - -_Fille de Madame Angot, La_, 150 - -_Fille Mal Gardée, La_, 149, 172 - -_Firebird_ (_L’Oiseau de Feu_), 72, 90, 121, 142, 165, 172, 173, 174, -175, 176, 177, 178 - -_First Love_, 74 - -Fisher, Thomas Hart, 253 - -Fiske, Harrison Grey, 76 - -Fitzgerald, Barry, 249 - -Fleischmann, Julius, 123, 124, 126, 128, 129, 131 - -Fokine American Ballet, 102 - -Fokine, Michel, 19, 31, 40, 65, 68, 72, 76, 79, 89, 92-104, 110, 114, -115, 116, 118, 121, 125, 128, 129, 135, 136, 141, 142, 149, 152, 153, -155, 157, 171, 172, 173, 175, 198, 202, 203, 308 - -Fokina, Vera, 92, 104, 157, 173 - -Fokine, Vitale, 93, 94 - -Fonteyn, Margot, 211, 212, 229, 231, 232, 234, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, -243, 246, 248, 253, 254-259, 271, 272, 282, 285, 286, 292, 304 - -Ford Foundation, 321 - -Forrest Theatre (Philadelphia), 114 - -Forty-eighth Street Theatre (New York), 59 - -Forty-fourth Street Theatre (New York), 153 - -Forty-sixth Street Theatre (New York), 42, 43, 48 - -Foss, Lukas, 184 - -_Fountains of Bakchisserai, The_, 294 - -_Four Saints in Three Acts_, 269 - -Fox, Horace, 263 - -_Foyer de Danse_, 269 - -Franca, Celia, 298 - -Francaix, Jean, 122 - -France, Anatole, 194 - -_Francesca da Rimini_, 122 - -Franck, César, 29, 240, 270 - -Frankenstein, Alfred, 199, 305 - -Franklin, Benjamin, 16 - -Franklin, Frederick, 59, 130, 202 - -Franks, Sir Oliver and Lady, 234, 256, 260, 261 - -French National Lyric Theatre, 214, 215 - -_Fridolin_, 49 - -Frohman, Mae, 46, 114, 144, 189, 191, 243, 312, 313 - -_Frolicking Gods_, 94 - -Frost, Honor, 298 - -Fuller, Loie, 37-39 - - -_Gaîté Parisienne_, 129, 135, 301 - -_Gala Evening_, 215 - -_Gala Performance_, 172 - -Galli, Rosina, 18 - -Garson, Greer, 243, 249 - -Gatti-Cazzaza, Giulio, 18, 19 - -Gaubert, Phillipe, 215 - -Geltser, 237 - -Geltzer, Ekaterina, 80, 87 - -Genée, Adeline, 73, 87 - -Genthe, Dr. Arnold, 33 - -Gerhard, Robert, 247 - -German Opera Company, 311 - -Gershwin, George, 135 - -Gest, Morris, 85, 93 - -Gest, Simeon, 80 - -Geva, Tamara, 158 - -_Ghost Town_, 136 - -Gibson, Ian, 152 - -Gide, André, 115 - -Gielgud, John, 222, 226 - -_Gift of the Magi_, 164, 172 - -Gilbert, W. S., 299 - -Gilmour, Sally, 78 - -Gindt, Ekaterina, 104 - -_Giselle_, 19, 72, 79, 134, 147, 149, 172, 180, 184, 199, 201, 203, -207, 218, 219, 229, 246, 255, 256, 292, 315, 318 - -Gladowska, Constantia, 195 - -Glazounow, Alexandre, 19, 100 - -Glinka, Mikhail, 94 - -_Gloriana_, 281 - -Gluck, Christopher Willibald von, 129, 161 - -Goetz, E. Ray, 110 - -Gogol, Nikolai, 150 - -Gollner, Nana, 85, 125 - -Golovine, 173 - -Gontcharova, Nathalie, 122, 129, 135, 141, 173 - -Goode, Gerald, 42 - -_Good-Humoured Ladies, The_, 122 - -Gopal, Ram, 213 - -Gordon, Gavin, 239 - -Gore, Walter, 78, 79 - -Gorky, Maxim, 15, 16, 26 - -_Götter-dammerung, Die_, 194 - -Gould, Diana, 78 - -Gould, Morton, 165 - -_Goyescas_, 172 - -_Graduation Ball_, 142, 172 - -Graham, Martha, 42, 63-65, 106, 213 - -Grand Ballet de Monte Carlo, 195 - -Grand Ballet du Marquis de Cuevas, 196, 225 - -Grant, Alexander, 247 - -Grauman’s Chinese Theatre (Hollywood), 85 - -Grauman’s Egyptian Theatre (Hollywood), 85 - -_Graziana_, 164, 172 - -Greco, José, 56 - -_Green Table, The_, 49 - -Grey, Beryl, 236, 237, 292-294 - -Grigorieva, Tamara, 123, 130 - -Grigorieff, Serge, 111, 114, 123, 142 - -Grimousinkaya, Irina, 294 - -Gross, Alexander, 29 - -Guerard, Roland, 130 - -Guerra, Nicola, 215 - -_Guiablesse, La_, 58 - -Guinsberg, Naron “Nikki,” 131 - -Guthrie, Tyrone, 222 - - -Habima Theatre, 311 - -Hall, James Norman, 276 - -Hallé Orchestra, The, 223 - -_Hamlet_, 236, 240, 283 - -_Hammersmith Nights_, 269 - -Hanson, Joe, 209 - -_Harlequin in April_, 302, 303 - -Hartley, Russell, 198 - -Hartmann, Emil, 98 - -Harvard Library, 129 - -_Harvest Time_, 167 - -Heseltine, Philip (Peter Warlock), 298 - -Haskell, Arnold L., 78, 106, 286-289 - -Hastings, Hanns, 41 - -_Haunted Ballroom, The_, 298 - -Hawkes, Ralph, 229 - -Hayward, Louis, 249 - -Heifetz, Jascha, 82 - -_Helen of Troy_, 103, 157, 158, 172 - -Helpmann, Robert, 238, 239, 240, 241, 254, 272, 278, 279, 282-286, 290, -317, 318 - -Henderson, Mrs. Laura, 204 - -Henderson, W. J., 23 - -_Henry VIII._, 198 - -Henry, O., 164 - -Hepburn, Katherine, 285 - -Hess, Dame Myra, 222 - -Hightower, Rosella, 152, 158, 160, 195, 198 - -Hindemith, Paul, 136 - -_Hindu Wedding_, 51 - -Hippodrome (New York), 12, 19, 20, 21, 88, 94, 102, 314 - -Hirsch, Georges, 213, 215, 216 - -H. M. Ministry of Works, 224 - -Hobi, Frank, 152 - -Hoffman, Gertrude, 76, 85, 87 - -Hogarth, William, 239, 274 - -Holden, Stanley, 303 - -Hollywood Bowl, 85, 164 - -Hollywood Theatre (New York), 139, 142, 143, 168 - -_Homage to the Queen_, 270, 315 - -_Hooray for Love_, 50 - -Horenstein, Jascha, 184 - -_Horoscope_, 270, 274 - -Horrocks, 231 - -Hotel Meurice (Paris), 39, 259 - -Howard, Andrée, 78, 79, 149, 171, 298 - -Hughes, Herbert, 239, 249, 251, 252, 262, 267, 304 - -Hugo, Pierre, 122 - -Hugo, Victor, 247 - -Humphrey, Doris, 42, 213 - -_Hundred Kisses, The_, 115, 122, 140 - -_Hungary_, 19 - -Hurok, Mrs. (Emma), 46, 49, 131, 139, 187, 188, 190, 191, 202, 241, -243, 312 - -Hurry, Leslie, 237, 240, 315 - -Hyams, Ruth, 243, 313 - - -Ibert, Jacques, 215 - -_Icare_, 136 - -_Igroushki_, 129 - -_Imaginaires, Les_, 122 - -Imperial League of Opera (London), 107 - -Imperial School of Ballet (Moscow), 80, 85, 86, 87, 117 - -_Impresario_, 33, 134, 158, 168, 215 - -_I Musici_, 317 - -_In Old Madrid_, 56 - -International Ballet (London), 290 - -International Ballet, 149, 184, 190, 196 - -International Choreographic Competition (Paris), 49 - -International Dance Festival, 151 - -International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union, 59 - -International Revue, 53, 204 - -_Interplay_, 165, 172 - -Ippolitov-Ivanov, Mikhail, 98 - -Irving, Robert, 240, 304 - -Irving, Sir Henry, 81 - -“Isadorables” (Anna, Lysel, Gretl, Thérése, Erica, Irma), 32, 33, 34 - -_Istar_, 215 - -Iturbi, José, 57 - -Ivanoff, Lev, 121, 237 - -Ivy House (London), 21, 25, 26 - - -Jackson, Tom, 224 - -Jackson, Rowena, 292, 296-297 - -Jacob, Gordon, 239 - -Jacob’s Pillow, 151, 152 - -Japanese Dancers and Musicians, 317 - -_Jardin aux Lilas_ (_Lilac Garden_), 172 - -_Jardin Public_ (_Public Garden_), 115, 122 - -Jasinsky, Roman, 111, 123, 130 - -Jerome, Jerome K., 239 - -_Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring_, 278 - -_Jeux_, 78 - -_Jeux d’Enfants_ (_Children’s Games_), 110, 122, 140, 168 - -_Jeux des Cartes_ (_Card Game_, _Poker Game_), 136 - -_Job_, 218, 236, 238, 283 - -Johnson, Albert, 114, 122 - -Johnson, Edward, 214, 230 - -Jolivet, André, 215 - -Joos, Kurt, 49 - -_Jota_, 56 - -_Jota Argonese_, 129, 135 - -Juda, Hans, 231 - -_Judgment of Paris_, 172 - - -Kahn, Otto H., 18, 32, 89, 95, 111, 112, 319 - -Kaloujny, Alexandre, 215 - -Karnilova, Maria, 152 - -Karsavina, Tamara, 67, 72-73, 75, 77, 89, 172, 255, 273 - -Karsavin, Platon, 72 - -Kauffer, E. McKnight, 241 - -Kaye, Nora, 152, 155, 158, 160, 164, 231 - -Kchessinsky, Felix, 68 - -Kchessinska, Mathilde, 67-69, 71, 111 - -Kennedy, Ludovic, 291 - -Keynes, Geoffrey, 238 - -Keynes, J. Maynard (Lord Keynes), 78, 106, 221, 222, 224, 228 - -_Khadra_, 298 - -Kidd, Michael, 164, 174 - -_Knight and the Maiden, The_, 215 - -Korovin, 122, 294 - -Kosloff, Alexis, 76, 85 - -Kosloff, Theodore, 68, 76, 84-85, 86, 87 - -Koudriavtzeff, Nicholas, 186, 187, 188, 194 - -Koussevitsky, Serge, 198 - -Krassovska, Natalie (Leslie), 125, 129 - -Kreutzberg, Harald, 46 - -Kriza, John, 152, 164, 167 - -Kubelik, Jan, 81, 82 - -Kurtz, Efrem, 113, 129 - -Kyasht, Lydia (Kyaksht), 67, 73-75, 77 - - -Laban, Rudolf von, 40 - -_Labyrinth_, 135 - -_Lac des Cygnes_ (Full length), 201, 219, 229, 236, 246, 248, 291, 292, -293, 296, 297, 315 - -_Lady Into Fox_, 171 - -_Lady of the Camellias_, 198 - -_Lady of Shalot_, 269 - -_L’Ag’ya_, 60 - -Laing, Hugh, 78, 152, 160 - -Lalo, Eduardo, 215 - -Lambert, Constant, 106, 211, 220, 231, 232, 234, 235, 239, 240, 246, -247, 264, 265, 270, 272-279, 283, 293, 296, 298 - -Lancaster, Osbert, 299, 300 - -Lanchbery, John, 305 - -Lane, Maryon, 303, 304 - -Larianov, Michel, 118, 123 - -_Last Days of Nijinsky, The_, 83 - -_Laudes Evangelli_, 120 - -Lauret, Jeanette, 129, 152 - -Lawrence, Gertrude, 204 - -Lawson-Powell School (New Zealand), 296 - -Lazovsky, Yurek, 130, 152 - -Lecocq, Charles, 160 - -_Leda and the Swan_, 269 - -Lehmann, Maurice, 216 - -Lenin, Nicolai, 68 - -Leningrad Conservatory, 312 - -Leslie, Lew, 53, 204 - -Lester, Edwin, 249 - -Lester, Keith, 172 - -Levine, Marks, 313 - -Lewisohn Stadium (New York), 102, 103, 149 - -Liadoff, Anatole, 96, 98, 122 - -Lichine, David, 111, 112, 114, 122, 123, 130, 142, 157, 160, 161, 172, -194 - -Lidji, Jacques, 127, 189, 191 - -Lieberman, Elias, 131, 178, 191 - -Lie, Honorable Trygve, 234 - -_Lieutenant Kije_, 155 - -Lifar, Serge, 130, 134, 136, 142, 169, 206, 215, 216, 273 - -Lingwood, Tom, 79 - -Lipkovska, Tatiana, 186 - -Litavkin, Serge, 74 - -Little Theatre (New York Times Hall), 49 - -Liszt, Franz, 81, 153, 158, 198, 239, 247, 270, 273, 276 - -Liverpool Philharmonic Society, 280 - -Lobe, Edward, 100 - -Local managers, 314-315 - -Loew’s Theatre (Washington, D.C.), 307 - -London Ballet Workshop, 79 - -London Philharmonic Orchestra, 223, 276 - -London Symphony Orchestra, 223 - -Lopez, Pilar, 56, 57, 58 - -Lopokova, Lydia (Lady Keynes), 67 - -75-77, 78, 87, 106, 221, 277 - -Lorca, Garcia, 56, 57 - -_Lord of Burleigh, The_, 270 - -Loring, Eugene, 149, 150, 156 - -Los Angeles Civic Light Opera Association, 249 - -Losch, Tilly, 158 - -Lourie, Eugene, 122 - -Louys, Pierre, 93 - -Lurçat, Jean, 122 - -Lyon, Annabelle, 152 - -Lyceum Theatre (London), 107, 109 - - -Mackaye, Percy, 76 - -MacLeish, Archibald, 114 - -Macletzova, Xenia, 80, 105 - -_Mlle. Angot_, 160, 172, 256 - -_Magic Swan, The_, 136 - -Maclès, Jean-Denis, 237, 258 - -Malone, Halsey, 128 - -Majestic Theatre (New York), 53, 54, 114, 149 - -Manhattan Opera House (New York), 24 - -Mansfield, Richard, 81 - -Manuel, Roland, 215 - -_Man Who Married a Dumb Wife, The_, 194 - -_Mardi Gras_, 298 - -Marie Antoinette Hotel (New York), 97 - -Maria Thérésa, 33 - -Marie, Grand Duchess of Russia, 111 - -Marie, Queen of Rumania, 37, 38 - -Mark Hopkins Hotel (San Francisco), 59 - -Markova, Alicia, 90, 130, 134, 151, 152, 161, 163, 175, 184, 195, 198, -199, 200-204, 207, 218, 219, 237, 246, 255, 271 - -Markova-Dolin Ballet Company, 163, 184, 186, 192, 198, 199, 201, 202 - -Martin Beck Theatre (New York), 59 - -Martin, Florence and Kathleen, 141 - -Martin, John, 40, 42, 43, 44, 45, 112 - -Maryinsky Theatre (Russia), 67, 68, 71, 72, 73, 77, 84, 86, 89, 140, -228, 236 - -_Masques, Les_, 79, 269 - -Masonic Auditorium (Detroit), 102, 185 - -Massenet, Jules, 19 - -Massine, Leonide, 44, 56, 106, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 117, 118, -119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 128, 129, 130, 132, 134, 135, -136, 137, 145, 155, 156, 160, 172, 197, 200, 201, 202, 206, 245, 269, -284, 290, 291, 300, 301 - -Masson, André, 122 - -_Matelots, Les_, 122 - -Matisse, Henri, 135 - -May, Pamela, 239, 240, 272 - -_Medusa_, 103 - -Melba, Dame Nellie, 295 - -Melville, Herman, 281 - -Mendelssohn, Felix von, 103, 122, 129, 317 - -Menotti, Gian-Carlo, 194 - -Mens, Meta, 40 - -_Mephisto Valse_, 269 - -_Merchant Navy Suite_, 274 - -Mercury Theatre (London), 78, 79 - -Merida, Carlos, 157 - -Messager, André, 215 - -Messel, Oliver, 122, 211, 232, 236, 315 - -Metropolitan Opera Company, 20, 86, 95, 98, 214, 321 - -Metropolitan Opera House (New York), 18, 19, 30, 31, 32, 33, 55, 56, -57, 87, 90, 94, 96, 97, 98, 106, 115, 122, 136, 139, 153, 154, 157, -158, 159, 160, 161, 165, 175, 176, 177, 188, 190, 192, 194, 197, 201, -214, 216, 225, 230, 231, 232, 233, 235, 237, 240, 247, 248, 259, 278, -283, 292, 293, 307, 318 - -Metropolitan Opera House (Philadelphia), 100 - -Meyerbeer, Giacomo, 246, 270, 273 - -_Midnight Sun, The_, 122 - -_Midsummer Night’s Dream, A_, 103, 122, 317 - -Mielziner, Jo, 155 - -Mignone, Francisco, 194 - -Mikhailovsky Theatre (St. Petersburg), 89 - -Miller, Patricia, 300 - -Milhaud, Darius, 153, 215, 218 - -Mills, Florence, 274 - -Minkus, Leon, 294 - -Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, 151 - -_Minuet of the Will o’ the Wisps_, 195 - -_Miracle, The_, 318 - -_Miracle in the Gorbals_, 236, 239, 240, 283, 284 - -_Mirages, Les_, 215 - -Miro, Joan, 122 - -Mladova, Milada, 129 - -Modjeska, Helena, 81 - -_Monotonie_, 42 - -Montenegro, Robert, 156 - -Monteux, Pierre, 95, 198 - -Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, 116 - -“_Moonlight Sonata_,” 96, 98, 100 - -Moore, Henry, 222 - -Mordkin Ballet, 80, 180, 181 - -Mordkin, Mikhail, 19, 22, 68, 76, 79-81, 87, 105, 147, 148, 149, 180 - -_Morning Telegraph, The_ (New York), 17 - -Morosova, Olga, 123, 130, 193 - -Morris, Douglas, 305 - -_Mort du Cygne, La_ (_The Dying Swan_), 19, 96, 98, 101 - -Mortlock, Rev. C. B., 278 - -Moreton, Ursula, 299 - -Moscow Art Players, 311 - -Moss and Fontana, 54 - -_Mother Goose Suite_, 300 - -Motley, 160, 161, 316 - -Moussorgsky, Modeste, 160 - -_Movimientos_, 79 - -Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 129, 164 - -Munsel, Patrice, 295 - -_Murder in the Cathedral_, 285 - -Music for the Masses, 17 - -_Music for the Orchestra_, 274 - -Music Ho!, 274 - -_Mute Wife, The_, 190, 194 - -_My Three Loves_, 290 - - -Nabokoff, Nicholas, 114, 122 - -Nachez, Twadar, 98 - -Natalie Koussevitsky Foundation, 281 - -National Gallery (London), 278 - -National Symphony Orchestra (Washington, D.C.), 184 - -Nation, Carrie, 37 - -_Naouma_, 215 - -Nemtchinova-Dolin Ballet, 204 - -Nemtchinova, Vera, 80, 105, 125 - -Nerina, Nadia, 292, 295-296 - -New Dance--Theatre Piece--With My Red Fires (trilogy), 213 - -New York City Ballet, 175, 225, 269, 318 - -New York City Center, 214, 321 - -New York City Festival, 169, 213, 214, 217 - -_New York Herald-Tribune_, 44 - -New York Philharmonic Orchestra, 57, 166 - -New York Symphony Orchestra, 31 - -_New York Times, The_, 17, 23, 31, 40, 43, 44, 98 - -_New Yorker, The_, 135 - -Nicolaeva-Legat, Nadine, 289, 290 - -_Night on a Bald Mountain_, 160 - -Nijinska, Bronislava, 107, 115, 122, 149, 153, 167, 171, 198, 269, 273 - -Nijinska, Romola, 82, 83 - -Nijinsky, Vaslav, 77, 81-84, 89, 115, 284 - -_Noces, Les_, 122 - -_Nocturne_, 122, 270 - -Nordoff, Paul, 161 - -Novikoff, Elizabeth, 87 - -Novikoff, Laurent, 22, 68, 86, 87, 294 - -_Nuit d’Egypte, Une_, 102 - -_Nutcracker, The_, 129, 136, 173, 184, 201, 203, 218, 219, 301, 302, -303, 304, 318 - -_Nutcracker Suite_, 94, 198 - - -_Oberon_, 98 - -Obolensky, Prince Serge, 111, 131 - -Oboukhoff, Anatole, 125 - -O’Dwyer, William, 213, 232, 233, 234 - -Offenbach, Jacques, 129, 135, 153, 157 - -Old Vic Theatre (London), 208, 218, 223, 226, 246, 298, 299, 317, 318 - -Olivier, Sir Laurence, 222 - -_On Stage!_, 164, 174 - -_On the Route to Seville_, 56 - -_Orchesographie_, 298 - -O’Reilley, Sheilah, 300 - -Original Ballet Russe, 103, 116, 138-146, 149, 187, 195, 196, 199, 204, -225 - -Orloff, Nicolas, 152 - -Orlova, Tatiana ( Mrs. Leonide Massine), 126 - -Osato, Sono, 114, 123, 130, 142, 162 - -Ostrovsky Theatre (Moscow), 117 - - -Pabst Theatre (Milwaukee), 184 - -_Paganini_, 103, 140 - -Paganini, Niccolo, 82, 137, 141, 194 - -Page, Ruth, 58, 60, 253 - -_Paint Your Wagon_, 316 - -Palacio des Bellas Artes (Mexico City), 114, 155 - -Palisades Amusement Park (New York), 20, 21 - -Panaieff, Michel, 125, 130 - -_Pantomime Harlequinade_, 318 - -_Papillons, Les_, 121 - -_Paris_, 270 - -Paris Colonial Exposition, 51 - -Paris Opéra, 106, 130, 134, 151, 172, 216, 228 - -Paris Opera Ballet, 168, 169, 213, 214, 215, 216, 318 - -Paris Opéra Comique, 225 - -Paris Opéra Company, 169 - -_Pas de Quatre_, 150, 172, 180, 198, 203, 318 - -_Pas des Espagnole_, 198 - -_Pas de Trois_, 195, 198 - -_Passing of the Third Floor Back, The_, 239 - -_Pastorale_, 200, 201 - -_Patineurs, Les_, 246, 270, 273, 296, 297, 316 - -Patterson, Yvonne, 195 - -_Pavane_, 215 - -_Pavillon, La_, 122 - -_Pavillon d’Armide_, 255 - -Pavlova, Anna, 11, 12, 12-27, 28, 32, 41, 43, 47, 51, 52, 67, 72, 74, -80, 86, 87, 88, 89, 94, 95, 105, 106, 120, 132, 141, 168, 203, 243, -254, 255, 257, 269, 272, 283, 284, 297 - -Payne, Charles, 150 - -Péne du Bois, Raoul, 164 - -People’s Theatre (St. Petersburg), 109 - -_Peri, La_, 215, 269 - -_Perpetual Motion_, 194 - -Perrault, Charles, 211, 236 - -Perrot, Jules, 246 - -Peter and the Wolf, 149, 172 - -_Peter Grimes_, 281 - -Petipa, Marius, 121, 236, 237 - -Petit, Roland, 119 - -Petit, Roland, Ballet Company, 317 - -_Petits Riens, Les_, 269 - -Petroff, Paul, 111, 123, 130 - -_Petroushka_, 85, 90, 104, 110, 114, 121, 140, 153, 157, 171, 173, 180, -318 - -Philadelphia Orchestra, 106, 166 - -Philipoff, Alexander (“Sasha”), 127, 139 - -_Piano Concerto_ (Lambert), 274 - -_Piano Concerto in F Minor_ (Chopin), 195 - -Picasso, Pablo, 118, 123 - -_Pictures at an Exhibition_, 190 - -_Pillar of Fire_, 152, 155, 172, 174 - -_Pineapple Poll_, 299, 300, 301 - -_Pins and Needles_, 59 - -Pinza, Ezio, 249 - -Piper, John, 238, 302, 315 - -_Plages, Le_, (_Beach_), 110, 122 - -Platoff, Mark, 130, 136 - -Playfair, Nigel, 269 - -Pleasant, Richard, 148, 149, 150, 151 - -Podesta, 19 - -Pogany, Willy, 95 - -_Poland--Three Moods: Happiness, Revolt, Sadness_, 97 - -Poliakov, 117, 118 - -_Polka_, 198 - -Polunin, Vladimir, 122 - -_Pomona_, 269, 273, 274 - -Poole, David, 300, 301, 303 - -_Poor Richard’s Almanack_, 16 - -Popova, Nina, 152 - -Portinari, Candido, 194 - -_Ports of Call_, 215 - -Poulenc, Francis, 79, 129, 215 - -Powell, Lionel, 107 - -Pratt, John, 63, 198 - -Preobrajenska, Olga, 67, 69-71, 107, 140, 167, 168 - -_Présages, Les_, 110, 112, 140 - -_Princess Aurora_, 152, 153, 172, 180 - -_Prince Igor_, 89, 104, 110, 114, 121, 128, 318 - -H.H. Prince of Monaco, 106 - -_Prodigal Son, The_ (_Le Fils Prodigue_), 142 - -Prokhoroff, Vassili, 294 - -Prokofieff, Sergei, 103, 141, 142, 149, 155, 158, 237, 238, 270 - -_Prophet, The_, 246 - -_Prospect Before Us, The_, 298 - -_Protée_, 142 - -Pruna, 122 - -Psota, Vania, 152, 153, 193, 194 - -_Punch and the Policeman_, 215 - -Purcell, Henry, 273 - -Pushkin, Alexander, 95, 156, 294 - - -_Quest, The_, 270 - -_Quintet_, 172 - - -Rachel, 195 - -Rachmaninoff, Sergei, 79, 103, 141 - -Rafael, 49 - -_Rakoczy March_, 195 - -_Rake’s Progress, The_, 236, 239, 246 - -Rambert, Marie, 77-79, 106, 201, 217, 269 - -Rameau, 215 - -Rapee, Erno, 156 - -Rassine, Alexis, 269 - -Rawsthorne, Alan, 279 - -Ravel, Maurice, 215, 298, 300, 316 - -Ravina, Jean, 198 - -_Reaper’s Dream, The_, 74 - -_Red Shoes_, 289, 290, 295 - -Reed, Janet, 158 - -Reed, Richard, 152 - -Reich, George, 198 - -Reinhardt, Max, 318 - -Remisoff, Nicholas, 91, 160 - -Renault, Madeline, 311 - -Renault, Michel, 215 - -_Rendez-vous, Les_, 270, 273, 298 - -Respighi, Ottorino, 150 - -Revueltas, Sylvestre, 155 - -Reyes, Alfonso, 155 - -_Rhapsody on the Theme of Paganini_, 141 - -Riaboushinska, Tatiana, 69, 111, 112, 114, 123, 130, 141, 161, 168, 195 - -Ricarda, Ana, 195, 198 - -Richardson, Philip, J. S., 287 - -Richman, Harry, 204 - -Richmond, Aaron, 260 - -Rieti, Vittorio, 122, 161, 194, 195 - -Rimsky-Korsakoff, Nicolas, 56, 94, 95, 98, 121, 122, 135 - -_Rio Grande_, 270, 274 - -Rittman, Trudi, 316 - -Ritz, Roger, 215 - -Robbins, Jerome, 65, 152, 160, 161, 164, 165, 172, 178, 195, 198 - -Robinson, Casey, 168 - -Robinson, Edward, G., 249 - -Rockefeller Foundation, 321 - -_Rodeo_, 59, 161 - -Roerich, Nicholas, 123 - -Rogers, Richard, 136 - -Romanoff, Boris, 107, 129 - -Romanoff, Dmitri, 152 - -_Romantic Age_, 157, 172, 174 - -_Romeo and Juliet_, 158, 159, 172, 174, 273, 274 - -Romulo, 234 - -_Rondino_, 255 - -Rosay, Berrina, 198 - -Roshanara, 52 - -Rose, Billy, 161 - -Rosenthal, Manuel, 129 - -Rossini, Gioacchino, 122, 198 - -Rostova, Lubov, 11, 123, 129 - -Rothapfel, Samuel, 44 - -Rouault, Georges, 142 - -_Rouet d’Omphale_, 98 - -_Rouge et Noir_, 135 - -_Roussalka_, 122 - -Rowell, Kenneth, 79 - -Roxy Theatre (New York), 44, 106, 110, 119 - -Roy, Pierre, 136 - -Royal Academy of Dancing (London), 225 - -Royal College of Music, 273 - -Royal Danish Ballet, 104 - -Royal Festival Hall (London), 318 - -Royal Opera House (Copenhagen), 221 - -Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 74, 132, 133, 156, 160, 191, 204, -208, 210, 211, 221, 223, 224, 228, 229, 235, 236, 237, 242, 243, 244, -245, 246, 272, 276, 277, 278, 279, 280, 281, 286, 298, 304, 315 - -Rubbra, Edward, 279 - -Rubenstein, Ida, 269 - -Rubinstein, Anton, 81 - -Rubinstein, Mr. & Mrs. Arthur, 191 - -Rubinstein, Beryl, 33 - -Rubinstein, Nicholas, 156 - -Ruffo, Tito, 17 - -Runanin, Borislav, 152 - -_Russian Folk Dances_, 98 - -_Russian Folk Lore_, 86 - -_Russian Folk Tales_, 122 - -Russian Imperial Ballet, 13, 68, 71, 80, 121, 200, 219 - -Russian Imperial School of the Ballet (St. Petersburg), 67, 69, 70, 73, -75, 85, 89, 104 - -Russian Opera Company, 310 - -_Russian Soldier_, 103, 155, 171 - -Russian State School (Warsaw), 78 - -Sabo, Roszika, 152, 184, 198 - -_Sacre du Printemps, Le_ (_Rite of Spring_), 78, 106 - -Saddler, Donald, 152 - -Sadler, Thomas, 298 - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, 74, 88, 90, 104, 106, 136, 141, 153, 160, 191, -201, 203, 204, 208, 211, 212, 213, 214, 217, 218, 219, 221, 223, 224, -225, 226, 227, 228, 229, 230, 232, 233, 235, 236, 237, 238, 242, 246, -248, 249, 250, 251, 255, 256, 261, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268, 269, 270, -272, 273, 278, 279, 280, 282, 283, 284, 285, 288, 290, 291, 294, 295, -296, 297, 298, 315, 318 - -Sadler’s Wells Foundation, 288 - -Sadler’s Wells Opera Company, 223, 225, 298, 299 - -Sadler’s Wells School, 74, 75, 184, 220, 225, 255, 259, 283, 286, 287, -288, 289, 290, 292, 296, 299, 300 - -Sadler’s Wells Theatre, 79, 208, 218, 237, 246, 288, 297, 298, 299 - -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet, 208, 223, 224, 225, 226, 270, 296, 297, -309, 318 - -St. Denis, Ruth, 64 - -_St. Francis_ (_Noblissima Visione_), 136 - -St. James Ballet Company, 225 - -St. James Theatre (New York), 105, 111, 112, 113, 114 - -Sainthill, Loudon, 303 - -St. Regis Hotel (New York), 83, 84, 131 - -Saint-Saens, Charles Camille, 98 - -“Saison des Ballets Russes,” 76, 85, 87 - -_Salad_, 215 - -_Salome’s Dance of the Seven Veils_, 100 - -_Samson and Delilah_, 218 - -San Francisco Art Commission, 164, 199, 321 - -_San Francisco Chronicle_, 305 - -San Francisco Civic Ballet, 168, 199, 213 - -San Francisco Opera Ballet, 85, 90 - -San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, 199 - -_Sapeteado_, 98 - -_Saratoga_, 135 - -Sargent, Sir Malcolm, 226 - -Sauguet, Henri, 215 - -Savoy Hotel (London), 133, 202, 209, 210, 212, 241, 243, 246, 277 - -Savoy-Plaza Hotel (New York), 112 - -Scala, La (Milan), 70, 106, 225, 296 - -Scarlatti, Domenico, 122, 215 - -Scènes de Ballet, 256 - -Schönberg, Arnold, 152 - -Schoop, Paul, 50 - -Schoop, Trudi, 49-50 - -_Schéhérazade_, 76, 85, 94, 106, 115, 121, 128, 173, 255, 318 - -Schubert, Franz, 30, 130, 153, 158, 195, 198, 270 - -Schumann-Heink, Ernestine, 17 - -Schumann, Robert, 121, 141 - -Schuman, William, 162 - -_Scuola di Ballo_, 110, 122 - -Schwezoff, Igor, 141 - -_Sea Change_, 298, 300 - -_Seasons, The_, 19 - -_Sebastian_, 190, 194 - -Sedova, Julia, 87 - -Selfridge, Gordon, 32 - -Seligman, Izia, 98 - -Semenoff, Simon, 130, 152, 156, 164, 172 - -Serguëef, Nicholas, 236, 237, 246 - -_Serpentine Dance_, 37, 38 - -Sert, José Maria, 122 - -Sevastianoff, German, 103, 132, 143, 151, 152, 153, 157, 158, 173 - -_Seven Dances of Life_, 40 - -_Seven Lively Arts, The_, 161, 204 - -_Seventh Symphony_, 135 - -_Sevillianas_, 55, 56 - -Shabalevsky, Yurek, 111, 123, 130 - -_Shadow, The_, 315 - -Shakespeare Festival Theatre (Stratford), 303 - -Shakespeare, William, 285, 298, 317 - -Shan-Kar, Uday, 51-53 - -Sharaff, Irene, 114, 122 - -Shaw, Bernard, 282 - -Shaw, Brian, 240 - -Shawn, Ted, 64, 151 - -Shearer, Moira, 234, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, 243, 254, 271, 289-292, -317 - -Shostakovich, Dmitri, 135 - -_Shore Excursion_, 60 - -Shrine Auditorium (Los Angeles), 249 - -Sibelius, Jan, 276, 298, 300 - -Siebert, Wallace, 184, 198 - -Sierra, Martinez, 55, 57 - -_Sirènes, Les_, 270, 284 - -Sitwell, Edith, 239, 276 - -Sitwell, Sir Osbert, 279 - -Sitwell, Sacheverell, 279 - -Skibine, George, 152 - -Slavenska, Mia, 130, 134, 201 - -_Slavonic Dances_, 152 - -_Slavonika_, 152, 153, 193 - -_Sleeping Beauty, The_ (_Sleeping Princess, The_), 71, 77, 85, 90, 121, -147 - -152, 173, 180, 211, 215, 220, 232, 236, 246, 248, 250, 251, 253, 256, -260, 269, 274, 283, 291, 292, 315 - -Sloan, Alfred P., 230 - -Smith, Douglas, 79 - -Smith, Oliver, 161, 164, 170, 173, 174, 176, 177, 178, 194 - -_Snow Maiden, The_, 122 - -Sokoloff, Asa, 189, 191 - -_Soleares_, 48, 55 - -Somes, Michael, 88, 240 - -_Song of the Nightingale, The_, 201 - -Soudeikine, Serge, 141 - -_Source, La_, 215 - -_South African Dancing Times_, 295 - -Soviet State School of Ballet, 70 - -_Spectre de la Rose, Le_, 82, 89, 115, 121, 128, 152, 153, 171, 318 - -Spessivtseva, Olga, 71 - -Staats, Leo, 215 - -Staff, Frank, 78, 79 - -_Star of the North_, 246 - -_Stars in Your Eyes_, 168 - -Stalin, Joseph, 109 - -Stein, Gertrude, 240, 241, 269, 270 - -Stevenson, Hugh, 79, 237 - -Still, William Grant, 59 - -Stokowski, Leopold, 106 - -Straight, Dorothy (Mrs. Elmhirst), 52 - -Strauss, Johann, 142, 198 - -Strauss, Richard, 160 - -Stravinsky, Igor, 90, 91, 106, 118, 121, 122, 136, 142, 158, 160, 165, -172, 173, 176 - -_Suite de Danse_, 198 - -_Suite in F Sharp Minor_ (Dohnanyi), 315 - -_Suite in White_, 215 - -Sullivan, Sir Arthur, 299, 300 - -_Summer’s Last Will and Testament_, 274 - -_Sun, The_ (New York), 23, 44 - -Svenson, Sven, Dr., 293 - -_Swan Lake_ (One act version), 121, 129, 136, 149, 167, 172, 173, 184, -218, 219, 286, 299, 318 - -_Sylphides, Les_, 76, 79, 94, 96, 103, 104, 110, 114, 121, 128, 140, -149, 152, 167, 171, 180, 198, 203, 219, 229, 255, 318 - -_Sylvia_, 74, 270, 296, 301, 315 - -_Symphonic Impressions_, 318 - -_Symphonic Variations_, 236, 240, 256, 270 - -_Symphonie Fantastique_, 115, 122, 239 - -_Symphonie Pathétique_, 103 - -_Symphony for Fun_, 318 - -_Symphony in C_, 215, 298 - - -Taglioni, Marie, 23, 157, 203, 272 - -Taglioni, Philippe, 157 - -Tait, E. J., 138 - -Talbot, J. Alden, 158, 161, 164, 166, 170, 173, 174, 181, 248 - -_Tales of Hoffman_, 290 - -Tallchief, Marjorie, 195 - -_Tally-Ho_, 161, 172, 174 - -_Tango_, 48 - -_Tannhauser_, 135 - -_Tarantule, La_, 18 - -Taras, John, 164, 172, 184, 192, 195 - -Taylor, Deems, 23 - -Tchaikowsky, Peter Ilytch, 71, 94, 103, 110, 121, 122, 136, 147, 152, -156, 184, 211, 215, 236, 237, 240, 255, 274, 301, 302, 303 - -Tchekhoff, Michael, 311 - -Tchelitcheff, Pavel, 136, 143 - -Tcherepnine, Nicholas, 121 - -Tchernicheva, Lubov, 111, 123, 130 - -Tennent Productions, Ltd., 223 - -Terry, Ellen, 31, 81 - -Tetrazzini, Eva, 17 - -Teyte, Maggie, 226 - -_Thamar_, 121, 255 - -Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, 58, 107, 109 - -Théâtre Mogador, 34 - -_Theatre Street_, 73, 75 - -Theilade, Nini, 130, 136 - -Thomson, Virgil, 269 - -_Three-Cornered Hat, The_ (_Le Tricorne_), 56, 110, 119, 122, 132, 136, -172, 255, 256 - -_Three Virgins and a Devil_, 150, 161, 172 - -_Thunder Bird, The_, 94 - -Tierney, Gene, 249 - -_Times, The_ (London), 156, 209 - -_Tiresias_, 274, 277 - -Tommasini, Vincenzo, 122, 137 - -_Tonight We Sing_, 168, 312 - -Toscanini, Arturo, 317 - -Toumanova, Tamara, 70, 107, 111, 112, 113, 115, 123, 129, 130, 134, -140, 143, 161, 167-170, 195, 201, 318 - -Toye, Geoffrey, 98 - -_Tragedy of Fashion, The_, 269 - -_Traviata, La_, 195, 198 - -Trecu, Pirmin, 301 - -Trefilova, Vera, 71 - -_Triumph of Neptune, The_, 273 - -Trocadero (Paris), 168 - -_Tropical Revue_, 59, 60 - -Trudi Schoop Comic Ballet, 49 - -Truman, Harry S., 256 - -Tudor, Antony, 78, 79, 149, 150, 152, 155, 158, 160, 161, 172, 174, -175, 195 - -Tupine, Oleg, 198 - -Turner, Jarold, 78 - -_Twice Upon a Time_, 295 - -_Two Pigeons, The_, 215 - - -Ulanova, Galina, 70, 71 - -_Undertow_, 161-162, 172 - -U.N.E.S.C.O., 261 - -_Union Pacific_, 114, 122, 140 - -Universal Art, Inc., 124, 128, 129, 131, 132, 133, 134, 139, 157, 165 - -University of Chicago, 58 - - -Vaganova, Agrippina, 266 - -Valbor, Kirsten, 198 - -_Valses Nobles et Sentimentales_, 298 - -Van Buren, Martin (President of U.S.A.), 18 - -Vanderlip, Frank, 32 - -Van Druten, John, 24, 72, 161 - -Van Praagh, Peggy, 78, 299, 306 - -Van Vechten, Carl, 23, 31 - -Vargas, Manolo, 56 - -Vaudoyer, J. L., 21 - -Vaussard, Christiane, 215 - -Verchinina, Nina, 111, 123, 130 - -Verdi, Giuseppi, 195, 198 - -_Verklärte Nacht_, 152 - -Vertes, Marcel, 153 - -_Vestris Solo_, 198 - -Victory Hall (London), 304 - -Vic-Wells Ballet, 106, 201, 204, 218, 269 - -_Vienna 1814_, 135 - -Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, 225 - -Vienna State Opera, 225 - -Vilzak, Anatole, 125 - -_Vision of Marguerite_, 318 - -Vladimiroff, Pierre, 22, 73, 80, 105 - -Volinine, Alexandre, 20, 21, 22, 68, 74, 76, 87, 88 - -Vollmar, Jocelyn, 195 - -Volpe, Arnold, 94, 96, 97, 98, 100 - -Volpe, Mrs. Arnold, 97, 100, 101 - -Vsevolojsky, I. A., 236 - - -Wagner, Richard, 29, 135, 194 - -Wakehurst, Lord & Lady, 260, 261 - -Wallman, Margaret, 70 - -Walton, Sir William, 239, 270, 279 - -_Waltz Academy_, 161, 172 - -_Wanderer, The_, 270 - -_Want-Ads_, 50 - -War Memorial Opera House (San Francisco), 162, 163, 164, 199, 250, 251, -282 - -Warner Theatre (New York), 308 - -Washburn, Malone & Perkins, 131 - -Washington Square Players (The Theatre Guild), 76 - -_Waste Land, The_, 303 - -_Water Nymph, The_, 74 - -Watkins, Mary, 44 - -Watteau, 161 - -Weber, Carl Maria von, 98, 121, 135 - -Webster, David, 210, 211, 212, 213, 214, 221, 224, 231, 235, 241, 242, -243, 248, 259, 262, 277, 278, 279-282, 299, 304 - -_Wedding Bouquet, A_, 236, 240, 246, 270, 291 - -Weidman, Charles, 42, 213 - -Weinberger, Jaromir, 135 - -_Werther_, 19 - -Whalen, Grover, 213, 234 - -Whistler, Rex, 239 - -_Whirl of the World, The_, 74 - -Wigman, Mary, 39-46, 47, 48, 64, 65 - -Wieniawsky, Henry, 167 - -Williams, Emlyn, 311 - -Williams, Ralf Vaughan, 218, 238, 273, 281, 283 - -Winter Garden (New York), 74, 75, 76, 85, 87 - -_Winter Night_, 79 - -_Wise Animals, The_, 215 - -_Wise Virgins, The_, 270 - -Woizikowsky, Leon, 11, 114, 123, 142 - -Works Progress Administration, 320 - - -_Yara_, 194 - -Yazvinsky, Jean (Ivan), 125, 130 - -Young Vic Theatre Co., 223 - -Youskevitch, Igor, 130 - -Ysaye, Eugene, 17 - -Yudkin, Louis, 231, 260, 304 - - -_Zamba_, 48 - -_Zapateado_, 48 - -Zeller, Robert, 198 - -_Zerbaseff_, 108 - -Zeretelli, Prince, 107, 108, 127 - -Ziegfeld Follies, 94 - -Ziegfeld Roof (New York), 129 - -Ziegfeld Theatre, 165 - -Ziegler, Edward, 98 - -Zimbalist, Efrem, 17 - -Zon, Ignat, 127 - -Zorich, George, 130 - -Zorina, Vera, 123, 157, 158 - -Zuckert, Harry M., 151 - -Zvereff, Nicholas, 129 - - * * * * * - -Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: - -This was, so far is I know=> This was, so far as I know {pg 50} - -necessary and funadmental=> necessary and fundamental {pg 68} - -heirarchy of the Russian=> hierarchy of the Russian {pg 71} - -there continously since=> there continuously since {pg 71} - -The pre-Chrismas=> The pre-Christmas {pg 112} - -organizer and threatre promoter=> organizer and theatre promoter {pg -127} - -others chosing to remain=> others choosing to remain {pg 130} - -dissident elements in its=> dissident elements in it {pg 157} - -existing today. Jerome Robbin’s=> existing today. Jerome Robbins’s {pg -172} - -to make arrangments=> to make arrangements {pg 177} - -engagment at the Metropolitan=> engagement at the Metropolitan {pg 177} - -a temporay whim=> a temporary whim {pg 181} - -the Diaghleff Ballet=> the Diaghileff Ballet {pg 204} - -the times comes for his appearance=> the time comes for his appearance -{pg 206} - -the spirt of the painter=> the spirit of the painter {pg 218} - -A Beverley Hills group=> A Beverly Hills group {pg 249} - -the threatre programme=> the theatre programme {pg 251} - -make him Ecuardorian=> make him Ecuadorian {pg 269} - -edge of Knightbridge and Kensington=> edge of Knightsbridge and -Kensington {pg 272} - -Elegaic Blues=> Elegiac Blues {pg 274} - -early indocrination=> early indoctrination {pg 290} - -considearble royal interest=> considerable royal interest {pg 306} - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK S. 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Hurok Presents; A Memoir of the Dance World, by Sol Hurok</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: S. Hurok Presents; A Memoir of the Dance World</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Sol Hurok</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 29, 2022 [eBook #68861]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK S. HUROK PRESENTS; A MEMOIR OF THE DANCE WORLD ***</div> -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" -height="550" alt="[The image of -the book's cover is unavailable.]" /></a><br /><br /> -<a href="images/dust_cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/dust_cover.jpg" -width="550" alt="[The image of -the book's dust-cover is unavailable.]" /></a> -</p> - -<table style="border: 2px black solid;margin:auto auto;max-width:50%; -padding:1%;"> -<tr><td> - -<p class="c"><a href="#CONTENTS">Contents.</a></p> -<p class="c"><a href="#LIST">List of Illustrations.</a></p> -<p class="c">Some typographical errors have been corrected; -<a href="#transcrib">a list follows the text</a>. -No attempt was made to correct/normalize names.</p> -<p class="c">(etext transcriber's note)</p></td></tr> -</table> - -<p class="rt"> -$4.50<br /> -</p> - -<p class="cb">S. HUROK PRESENTS</p> - -<p class="c">A MEMOIR OF THE DANCE WORLD<br /><br /> -<small>BY</small> <b>S. HUROK</b></p> - -<p>In these exciting memoirs, S. Hurok, Impresario Extraordinary, reveals -the incredible inside story of the glamorous and temperamental world of -the dance, a story only he is qualified to tell. From the golden times -of the immortal Anna Pavlova to the fabulous Sadler’s Wells Ballet, -Hurok has stood in the storm-center as brilliant companies and -extravagant personalities fought for the center of the stage.</p> - -<p>Famous as “the man who brought ballet to America and America to the -ballet,” the Impresario writes with intimate knowledge of the dancers -who have enchanted millions and whose names have lighted up the marquees -of the world. Isadora Duncan, Loie Fuller, Lydia Lopokova, Escudero, the -Fokines, Adolph Bolm, Argentinita, Massine, Alicia Markova, Anton Dolin, -Robert Helpmann, Shan-Kar, Martha Graham, Moira Shearer, Margot Fonteyn, -Ninette de Valois, and Frederick Ashton are only a few of the -celebrities</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="c">(<i>cont’d on back flap</i>)</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="c">(<i>cont’d from front flap</i>)</p></div> - -<p class="nind">who shine and smoulder through these pages.</p> - -<p>The fantastic financial and amorous intrigues that have split ballet -companies asunder come in for examination, as do the complicated -dealings of the strange “Col.” de Basil and his various Ballet Russe -enterprises; Lucia Chase and her Ballet Theatre; and the phenomenal -tours of the Sadler’s Wells companies.</p> - -<p>Although the Impresario’s pen is sometimes cutting, it is also blessed -by an unfailing sense of humor and by his deep understanding that a -great artist seldom exists without a flamboyant temperament to match.</p> - -<p>There are many beautiful illustrations—32 pages.</p> - -<p class="cb"><i><img src="images/hermitage.png" -width="175" -alt="Hermitage house inc." /></i><br /> - -8 West 13 Street<br /> -New York, N. Y.<br /> -<br /><br /><br /><span class="dk">S. HUROK PRESENTS</span></p> -<hr /> - -<div class="blk"> -<h1> -S. HUROK<br /><i>Presents</i></h1> - -<hr class="lrt" /> - -<p class="rt"><b><span class="sans">A MEMOIR OF THE DANCE WORLD</span></b><br /> -</p> -<p class="rt"> -<span class="dk">By S. Hurok</span><br /></p> - -<p class="cb"> -HERMITAGE HOUSE / NEW YORK <span style="margin-left: 2em;">1953</span><br /> -</p> -</div> - -<p class="rt"><b> -COPYRIGHT, 1953, BY S. HUROK<br /> -ALL RIGHTS RESERVED<br /> -<br /> -Published simultaneously in Canada by Geo. J. McLeod, Toronto<br /> -<br /> -Library of Congress Catalog Number: 53-11291<br /> -<br /><small> -MANUFACTURED IN THE U.S.A.<br /> -AMERICAN BOOK-STRATFORD PRESS, INC., NEW YORK</small></b> -</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The United States of America:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose freedom I found as a youth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which I cherish;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And without which nothing that has<br /></span> -<span class="i4">been accomplished in a lifetime<br /></span> -<span class="i4">of endeavour could have come to pass<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2 style="text-align:center;"><a id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_1">1.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_1">Prelude: How It All Began</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_11">11</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_2">2.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_2">The Swan</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_17">17</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_3">3.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_3">Three Ladies: Not from the Maryinsky</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_4">4.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_4">Sextette</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_47">47</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_5">5.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_5">Three Ladies of the Maryinsky—and Others</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_66">66</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_6">6.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_6">Tristan and Isolde: Michel and Vera Fokine</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_7">7.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_7">Ballet Reborn in America: W. De Basil and his Ballets Russes De Monte Carlo </a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_105">105</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_8">8.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_8">Revolution and Counter-Revolution: Leonide Massine and the New Ballet Russe De Monte Carlo</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_125">125</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_9">9.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_9">What Price Originality? The Original Ballet Russe</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_138">138</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_10">10.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_10">The Best of Plans ... Ballet Theatre</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_147">147</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_11">11.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_11">Indecisive Interlude: De Basil’s Farewell and a Pair of Classical Britons</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_183">183</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_12">12.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_12">Ballet Climax—Sadler’s Wells and After ...</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_208">208</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#c_13">13.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#c_13">Epilogue: Unborn Tomorrow</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_310">310</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#INDEX">Index</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_323">323</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<h2 style="text-align:center;" id="LIST">List of Illustrations<br /> -<small>[Added by the etext transcriber as it does not -appear in the book.]</small></h2> - -<table style="margin:1em auto;max-width:85%;"> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_001"> -1. -S. Hurok -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_002"> -2. Mrs. Hurok -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_003"> -3. -Marie Rambert -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_004"> -4. -Olga Preobrajenska in her Paris school -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_005"> -5. -Lydia Lopokova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_006"> -6. -Tamara Karsavina -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_007"> -7. -Mathilde Kchessinska -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_008"> -8. -Michel Fokine -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_009"> -9. -Adolph Bolm -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_010"> -10. -Anna Pavlova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_011"> -11. -Alexandre Volinine in his Paris studio, with Colette Marchand -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_012"> -12. -Ballet Pioneering in America: “Sasha” Philipoff, Irving Deakin, -Olga Morosova, “Colonel” W. de Basil, Sono Osato -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_013"> -13. -S. Hurok, “Colonel” W. de Basil and leading members of the de Basil -Ballet Russe, 1933. Back row: David Lichine, Vania Psota, Sasha -Alexandroff, S. Hurok; Center row: Leonide Massine, Tatiana -Riabouchinska, Col. W. de Basil, Nina Verchinina, Yurek -Shabalevsky; Front row: Edward Borovansky, Tamara Toumanova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_014"> -14. -Anton Dolin in <i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_015"> -15. -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo: Alexandra Danilova as the Glove Seller -and Leonide Massine as the Peruvian in <i>Gaîté Parisienne</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_016"> -16. -Tamara Toumanova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_017"> -17. -Alicia Markova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_018"> -18. -Scene from Antony Tudor’s <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>: Hugh Laing, Antony -Tudor, Dmitri Romanoff, Lucia Chase, Alicia Markova -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_019"> -19. -Ballet Theatre: Jerome Robbins and Janet Reed in <i>Fancy Free</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_020"> -20. -Ninette de Valois -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_021"> -21. -David Webster -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_022"> -22. -Constant Lambert -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_023"> -23. -S. Hurok, Margot Fonteyn, Robert Helpmann -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_024"> -24. -Irina Baronova and Children -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_025"> -25. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Following the premiere of -<i>Sylvia</i>—Frederick Ashton, Margot Fonteyn, S. Hurok -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_026"> -26. -S. Hurok and Margot Fonteyn -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_027"> -27. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Frederick Ashton, Ninette de Valois, Leonide -Massine -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_028"> -28. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Beryl Grey as the Princess -Aurora -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_029"> -29. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Nadia Nerina in <i>Façade</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_030"> -30. -Roland Petit -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_031"> -31. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Margot Fonteyn and Alexander Grant in -<i>Tiresias</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_032"> -32. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: John Field and Violetta Elvin -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_033"> -33. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i>—John Field and Beryl Grey -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_034"> -34. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Last Act of <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_035"> -35. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Giselle</i>—Robert Helpmann and Margot Fonteyn -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_036"> -36. -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: Elaine Fifield as Swanilda in <i>Coppélia</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_037"> -37. -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: David Blair and Svetlana -Beriosova in <i>Coppélia</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_038"> -38. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>A Wedding Bouquet</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_039"> -39. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Act I. <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>—The -Princess falls beneath the spell of Carabosse -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_040"> -40. -Agnes de Mille -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_041"> -41. -John Lanchbery, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_042"> -42. -John Hollingsworth, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Ballet -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_043"> -43. -Robert Irving, Musical Director, Sadler’s Wells Ballet -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_044"> -44. -The Sadler’s Wells production of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>: -Puss-in-Boots -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_045"> -45. -Robert Helpmann as the Rake in <i>The Rake’s Progress</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_046"> -46. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Rowena Jackson as Odile in <i>Le Lac -des Cygnes</i> -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_047"> -47. -Colette Marchand -</a></td></tr> - - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_048"> -48. -Moira Shearer -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_049"> -49. -Moira Shearer and Daughter -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_050"> -50. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Symphonic Variations</i>—Moira Shearer, Margot -Fonteyn, Michael Somes, Pamela May -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_052"> -52. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: America is closer: loading at Port -of London -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_053"> -53. -Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Scenery and costumes start the -trek for America -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_054"> -54. -Antonio Spanish Ballet: Antonio -</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_055"> -55. -Antonio Spanish Ballet: <i>Serenada</i> -</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_11">{11}</a></span></p> - -<p class="cbig250"><span class="dk">S. HUROK PRESENTS</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a id="c_1">1.</a> Prelude: How It All Began</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p>In the mid-forties, after the publication of my first book, a number of -people approached me with the idea of my doing another book dealing with -the dance and ballet organizations I had managed.</p> - -<p>I did not feel the time was ripe for such a book. Moreover, had I -written it then, it would have been a different book, and would have -carried quite another burden. If it had been done at that time, it would -have been called <i>To Hell With Ballet!</i></p> - -<p>In the intervening period a good deal has happened in the world of -ballet. The pessimism that prompted the former title has given way on my -part to a more optimistic note. The reasons for this change of heart and -attitude will be apparent to the reader.</p> - -<p>At any rate, this book had to be written. In the volume of memoirs that -appeared some seven years ago I made an unequivocal statement to that -effect, when I wrote: “There’s no doubt about it. Ballet is different. -Some day I am going to write a book about it.”</p> - -<p>Here it is. It is a very personal account, dealing with dance and ballet -as I have seen it and known it. For thirty-four years I have not only -watched ballet, but have had a wide, first-hand experience of and -contact with most of the leading dance and ballet organizations of the -world. This book is written out of that experience.</p> - -<p>Ballet on this continent has come a long way along the road since the -night I bowed silently over the expressive hand of Anna<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_12">{12}</a></span> Pavlova as she -stood among the elephants in Charles B. Dillingham’s Hippodrome. I like -to think, with what I hope is a pardonable pride, that I have helped it -on its journey. It has given me greater pleasure than any of the -multifarious other activities of my managerial career. On that side of -the ledger lies the balance. It has also given me a generous share of -heartaches and headaches. But, if I had it all to do over again, there -is little I would have ordered otherwise.</p> - -<p>Because of these things, I believe my point of view is wider than that -of the scholar, the critic, or the enthusiast. Ballet is glamourous. It -is technical and complex; an exacting science. It is also highly -emotional, on the stage, behind the scenes, and often away from the -theatre. Temperament is by no means confined to the dancing artists.</p> - -<p>During the course of these close contacts with the dance, a mass of -material has accumulated; far too much for a single book. Therefore, I -am going to attempt to give a panorama of the high spots (and some of -the low spots, as well) of three-and-one-half decades of managing dance -attractions, together with impressions of those organizations and -personalities that have, individually and collectively, contributed to -make ballet what it is today.</p> - -<p>With a book of this kind a good resolution is to set down nothing one -has not seen or heard for oneself. For the most part I shall try to -stick to that resolution. Whenever it becomes necessary to depart from -it, appropriate credit will be accorded. Without question there are -times when silence is the wiser part of narration, and undoubtedly there -will be times when, in these pages, silence may be regarded, I hope, as -an indication of wisdom. However, there are not likely to be many such -instances, since a devotion to candid avowal will compel the dropping of -the curtain for a few blank moments and raising it again at a more -satisfactory stage only to spare the feelings of others rather than -myself.</p> - -<p>One of the questions I have asked myself is where and how did this -passionate interest in dance arise. I was, as almost every one knows, -born in Russia. Dance and music are a part of the Russian. Russia was -the home of a ballet that reached the highest perfection of its time: an -organization whose influence is felt wherever and whenever a ballet -slipper is donned. Yet, as a country lad, springing from an obscure -provincial town, brought up in my father’s village hardware business and -on his tobacco plantation, I am unable to boast of having been bowled -over, smitten, marked for life<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_13">{13}</a></span> by being taken at a tender age to see -the Imperial Ballet. No such heaven-sent dispensation was mine. I was a -long-time American citizen before I saw ballet in Russia.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, I believe that the fact I was born in Russia not only -shaped my ends, but provided that divinity that changed a -common-or-garden-variety little boy into what I eventually became. -Consciously or unconsciously the Russian adores the artist, denies the -artist nothing. As a normal, healthy, small-town lad, in Pogar, deep in -the Ukraine, I sensed these things rather than understood them. For it -was in Pogar and Staradrube and Gomel, places of no importance, that I -not only came into contact with the Russian “adoration” of the artist; -but, something much more important, I drank in that love of music and -dance that has motivated the entire course of my life.</p> - -<p>The Imperial Ballet was not a touring organization; and Pogar, -Staradrube and Gomel were far too unimportant and inconspicuous even to -be visited by vacationing stars on a holiday jaunt or barnstorming trip. -But the people of Pogar, Staradrube and Gomel sang and danced.</p> - -<p>The people of Pogar (at most there might have been five thousand of -them) were a hard-working folk but they were a happy people, a -fun-loving people, when days work was done. Above all else they were a -hospitable people. Their chief source of livelihood was flax and -tobacco, a flourishing business in the surrounding countryside, which -served to provide the villagers with their means for life, since Pogar -was composed in the main of tradesmen and little supply houses which, in -turn, served the necessaries to the surrounding countryside.</p> - -<p>Still fresh in my mind is the wonder of the changing seasons in Pogar, -always sharply contrasted, each with its joys, each having its tincture -of trouble. The joys remain, however; the troubles recede and vanish. -Winter and its long nights, with the long hauls through the snow to the -nearest railway station, forty frigid miles away: a two-day journey with -the sleighs; the bivouacked nights to rest the horses. I remember how -bitterly cold it was, as I lay in the sleigh or alternately sat beside -the driver, wrapped in heavy clothes and muffled to my eyes; how, in the -driving snow, horses and drivers would sometimes lose the road entirely, -and the time spent in retracing tracks until the posts and pine trees -marking what once had been the edges of the road were found. Then how, -with horses<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_14">{14}</a></span> nearly exhausted and our spirits low, we would glimpse the -flickering of a light in the far distance, and, heading towards it, -would find a cluster of little peasant huts. Once arrived, we would -arouse these poor, simple people, sometimes from their beds, and would -be welcomed, not as strangers, but rather as old friends. I remember -how, in the dead of night, still full of sleep, they would prepare warm -food and hot tea; how they would insist on our taking their best and -warmest beds, those on the stove itself, while they would curl up in a -corner on the floor. Then, in the morning, after more hot tea and a -piping breakfast, horses fed and refreshed, they would send us on our -way with their blessing, stubbornly refusing to accept anything in the -way of payment for the night’s lodging.</p> - -<p>This warm, human, generous hospitality of the Russian peasant has not -changed through devastation by war and pestilence. Neither Tsardom nor -Bolshevism could alter the basic humanity of the Russian people, who are -among the kindest and most hospitable on earth.</p> - -<p>The winter nights in Pogar, when the snow ceased falling and the moon -shone on the tinselly scene, were filled with a magic and unforgettable -beauty. The Christmas feasting and festivities will remain with me -always. But the sharpest of all memories is the picture of the Easter -fun and frolic, preceded by the Carnival of Butter-Week. Spring had -come. It mattered little that Pogar’s unpaved roads were knee-deep in -mud; the sun was climbing to a greater warmth: that we knew. We knew the -days were drawing out. It was then that music and dance were greater, -keener pleasures than ever. Every one sang. All danced. Even the lame -and the halt tried to do a step or two.</p> - -<p>We made the <i>Karavod</i>: dancing in a circle, singing the old, -time-honored songs. And there was an old resident, who lived along the -main roadway in a shabby little house set back from the lane itself, a -man who might have been any age at all—for he seemed ageless—who was a -<i>Skazatel</i> of folk songs and stories. He narrated tales and sang stories -of the distant, remote past.</p> - -<p>The village orchestra, come Easter time, tuned up out of doors. There -was always a violin and an accordion. That was basic; but if additional -musicians were free from their work, sometimes the orchestra was -augmented by a <i>balalaika</i> or two, a guitar or a zither—a wonderful -combination—particularly when the contrabass player was at liberty. -They played, and we all sang, above all, we sang folk<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_15">{15}</a></span> song after folk -song. Then we danced: polkas without end, and the <i>Crakoviak</i>; and the -hoppy, jumpy <i>Maiufess</i>, while the wonderful little band proceeded to -outdo itself with heartrending vibratos, tremulous tremolos, and -glissandos that rushed up and down all the octaves.</p> - -<p>Spring merged into summer. The lilacs and the violets faded; but the -summer evenings were long and the change from day to night was slow and -imperceptible. It took the sun many hours to make up its mind to -disappear behind the horizon, and even then, after the edge of the -burning disk had been swallowed up by the edge of the Ukranian plain, -its scarlet, orange and pink memories still lingered fondly on the sky, -and on the surface of our little lake, as if it were reluctant to leave -our quiet land.</p> - -<p>It was then the music rose again; the <i>balalaikas</i> strummed, and I, as -poor a <i>balalaika</i> player as ever there was, added tenuous chords to the -melodies. From the near distance came the sound of a boy singing to the -accompaniment of a wooden flute; and, as he momentarily ceased, from an -even greater distance came the thin wail of a shepherd’s pipe.</p> - -<p>There was music at night, there was music in the morning. The people -sang and danced. The village lake, over which the setting sun loved to -linger, gave onto a little stream, hardly more than a brook. The tiny -brook sang on its journey, and the rivulets danced on to the Desna; from -there into the Sozh on its way to Gomel, down the Dnieper past the -ancient city of Kiev, en route to the Black Sea. And in all the towns -and villages it passed, I knew the people were singing and dancing.</p> - -<p>This was something I sensed rather than knew. It was this background of -music and dance that was uppermost in my thoughts as I left Russia to -make my way, confused and uncertain as to ambition and direction. -Despite the impact of the sumptuousness of the bright new world that -greeted me on my arrival in America, I found a people who neither sang -nor danced. (I am not referring to the melodies of Tin-Pan Alley or the -turkey-trot.) I could not understand it. I was dismayed by it. I was -filled with a determination to help bring music and dance into their -lives; to make these things an important part of their very existence.</p> - -<p>The story of the transition to America has been told. The transition was -motivated primarily by an overwhelming desire for freedom. In 1904 I -heard Maxim Gorky speak. Although it was six<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_16">{16}</a></span> months later before I knew -who Maxim Gorky was, I have never forgotten what he said. Yet, moved as -I was by Gorky’s flaming utterance, it was Benjamin Franklin who became -my ideal.</p> - -<p>It was some time during Russia’s fateful year of 1905 that, somehow, a -translation of <i>Poor Richard’s Almanack</i> fell into my hands. Franklin’s -ideas of freedom to me symbolized America. There, I knew, was a freedom, -a liberty of spirit that could not be equalled.</p> - -<p>Although I arrived at Castle Garden, New York, after a twenty-three day -voyage, in May, 1906, it was the fact that Philadelphia was the home of -Benjamin Franklin that drew me to that city to make it my first American -abiding place.</p> - -<p>The evidence of these boyhood dreams of America has been proved by my -own experience.</p> - -<p>My dream has become a reality.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_17">{17}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_2">2.</a> The Swan</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span><b>T</b> was The Swan who determined my career in dance and ballet management. -Whatever my confused aspirations on arriving in America, the music and -dance I had imbibed at the folk fonts of Pogar remained with me.</p> - -<p>I have told the story of the gradual clarification of those aspirations -in the tale of the march forward from Brooklyn’s Brownsville. The story -of Music for the Masses has become a part of the musical history of -America. I had two obsessions: music and dance. Music for the Masses had -become a reality. “The Hurok Audience,” as <i>The Morning Telegraph</i> -frequently called it, was the public to which, two decades later, <i>The -New York Times</i> paid homage by asserting I had done more for music than -the phonograph.</p> - -<p>Through the interesting and exciting days of presenting Chaliapine, -Schumann-Heink, Eugene Ysaye, Mischa Elman, Efrem Zimbalist, Tetrazzini, -Tito Ruffo, the question of the dance, my other obsession, and how to do -for it what I had succeeded in doing for music, was always in my mind.</p> - -<p>It was then I met The Swan.</p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova is a symbol of ballet in America; nay, throughout the -world. I knew that here in America were a people who loved the dance, if -they could but know it. The only way for them to know it, I felt, was to -expose them to it in the finest form of theatre dance: the ballet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_18">{18}</a></span></p> - -<p>The position that ballet holds today in the affections of the American -public is the result of that exposure, coupled with a strongly -increasing enthusiasm that not only holds its devotees, but brings to it -a constantly growing new audience. But it was not always thus. Prior to -the advent to these shores of Anna Pavlova there was no continuous -development. America, to be sure, had had theatrical dancing -sporadically since the repeal of the anti-theatre act in 1789. But all -of it, imported from Europe, for the most part, had been by fits and -starts. From the time of the famous Fanny Ellsler’s triumphs in <i>La -Tarantule</i> and <i>La Cracovienne</i>, in 1840-1842, until the arrival of Anna -Pavlova, in 1910, there was a long balletic drought, relieved only by -occasional showers.</p> - -<p>America was not reluctant in its balletic demonstrations in the Fanny -Ellsler period, when the opportunities for appreciation were provided. -The American tour of the passionately dramatic Fanny Ellsler was made in -a delirium of enthusiasm. She was the guest of President Van Buren at -the White House, and during her Washington engagement, Congress -suspended its sittings on the days she danced. She was pelted with -flowers, and red carpets were unrolled and spread for her feet to pass -over. Even the water in which she washed her hands was preserved in -bottles, so it is said, and venerated as a sacred relic. Her delirious -<i>Cachucha</i> caused forthright Americans to perform the European -balletomaniac rite of toasting her health in champagne drunk from her -own ballet shoes.</p> - -<p>It is necessary now and then, I feel, to mark a time and place for -purposes of guidance. Therefore, I believe that the first appearance of -Anna Pavlova at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York on 28th -February, 1910 is a date to remember, since it may be said to mark the -beginning of the ballet era in our country.</p> - -<p>That first visit was made possible by the generosity of a very great -American Maecenas, the late Otto H. Kahn, to whom the art world of -America owes an incalculable debt. The arrangement was for a season of -four weeks. Her success was instantaneous. Her like never had been seen. -The success was the more remarkable considering the circumstances of the -performance, facts not, perhaps, generally remembered. Giulio -Gatti-Cazzaza, the Italian director of the Metropolitan Opera House, was -not what might be called exactly sympathetic to Otto Kahn’s -determination to establish the Opera House on a better rounded scheme -than the then prevalent over-exploitation of Enrico Caruso. As an -Italian opera director,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_19">{19}</a></span> Gatti-Cazzaza was even less sympathetic to the -dance, and was, moreover, extremely dubious that Metropolitan audiences -would accept ballet, other than as an inconsequential <i>divertissement</i> -during the course of an opera. So opposed to dance was he, as a matter -of fact, that, although he eventually married Rosina Galli, the <i>prima -ballerina</i> of the Metropolitan, he made her fight for ballet every inch -of the way and, on general operatic principle, opposed everything she -attempted to do for the dance.</p> - -<p>Because of his “anti-dance” attitude, and in order to “play safe,” Gatti -ordained that Pavlova’s American debut be scheduled to follow a -performance of Massenet’s opera <i>Werther</i>. The Massenet opera being a -fairly long three-act work, its final curtain did not fall until past -eleven o’clock. By the time the stage was ready for the first American -appearance of Pavlova, it was close to eleven-thirty. The audience that -had remained largely out of curiosity rather than from any sense of -expectation left reluctantly at the end. The dancing they had seen was -like nothing ever shown before in the reasonably long history of the -Metropolitan. For her début Pavlova had chosen Delibes’ human-doll -ballet, <i>Coppélia</i>, giving her in the role of Swanilda a part in which -she excelled. The triumph was almost entirely Pavlova’s. The role of -Frantz allowed her partner, Mikhail Mordkin, little opportunity for -virtuoso display, the <i>corps de ballet</i> seems to have been -undistinguished, and the Metropolitan conductor, Podesti, most certainly -was not a conductor for ballet, whatever else he might have been.</p> - -<p>Altogether, in this first season, there were four performances of -<i>Coppélia</i>, and two of <i>Hungary</i>, a ballet composed by Alexandre -Glazounow. Additional works during a short tour that followed, and which -included Boston and Baltimore, were the Bacchanale from Glazounow’s <i>The -Seasons</i>, and <i>La Mort du Cygne</i> (<i>The Dying Swan</i>), the miniature solo -ballet Michel Fokine had devised for her in 1905, which was to become -her symbol.</p> - -<p>Such was the success, Pavlova returned for a full season in New York and -a subsequent tour the following autumn, bringing Mordkin’s adaptation of -<i>Giselle</i>, and another Mordkin work, <i>Azayae</i>.</p> - -<p>It was six years later that The Swan floated into my life. In 1916, -Charles B. Dillingham, Broadway theatrical producer with a difference, -was the director of the Hippodrome, the unforgettable Sixth Avenue -institution. Dillingham was “different” for a number of reasons. He was -a theatre man of vision; the Hippodrome, with its<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_20">{20}</a></span> fantastic and -colossal entertainments, if not his idea, was his triumph; he was -perhaps the only Broadway manager who had been offered the post of -business manager of the Metropolitan Opera Company, an offer he refused, -but he did accept a commission to make a complete survey of the -Metropolitan’s business affairs.</p> - -<p>For years I had stood in awe of him.</p> - -<p>In 1916, Dillingham engaged Pavlova to appear at the Hippodrome, with -her partner, Alexandre Volinine. Neither the auspices, the billing, nor -the setting could, by any stretch of the imagination, be termed ideal. -Dillingham’s Hippodrome bore the subtitle “The National Amusement -Institution of America,” an appellation as grandiose as the building -itself. The evening’s entertainment (plus daily matinees), of which The -Swan’s appearance was a part, was billed as “The Big Show, the Mammoth -Minstrels, and the Ice Ballet, The Merry Doll.”</p> - -<p>Every night I was there in my favorite place at the back of the house. I -soon learned the time schedule. I could manage to miss the skaters, the -jugglers, the “mammoth” minstrels, the acrobats, the jumbo elephants. I -would arrive a few minutes before Pavlova’s entrance. I watched and -worshipped from afar. I had never met her. “Who was I,” I asked myself, -“to meet a divinity?”</p> - -<p>One night, as the falling curtain cut her off from my view, a hand fell -on my shoulder. It was Dillingham, for whom my admiration remained but -my awe of him had decreased, since, by this time, we were both managers. -He looked at me with a little smile and said, “Come along, Sol. I’m -going back to her dressing-room.”</p> - -<p>The long hoped for but never really expected moment had come. Long had I -rehearsed the speech I should make when and if this moment ever arrived. -Now the time was here and I was dumb. I could only look.</p> - -<p>The Swan extended her hand as Dillingham presented me. She smiled. I -bent low over the world’s most expressive hand. At her suggestion the -three of us went to supper in the Palisades Amusement Park outdoor -restaurant, overlooking the Hudson and upper Manhattan.</p> - -<p>I shall have a few things to say about Pavlova, the artist, about -Pavlova, the <i>ballerina</i>. Perhaps even more important is Pavlova, the -woman, Pavlova, the human being. These qualities came tumbling forth at -our first meeting. The impression was ineradicable. As she ate a -prodigious steak, as she laughed and talked, here was a sure<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_21">{21}</a></span> and -certain indication of her insatiable love of life and its good things. -One of her tragedies, as I happen to know, is that fullness of life and -love were denied her.</p> - -<p>I already have described this night in detail. I mention it again -because it sets a time and place: the beginnings of the realization of -the other part of my dream. I was already happily embarked on my avowed -purpose of bringing music to the masses. Although I may not have -realized it, that night when we first dined and talked and laughed, when -we rode the roller-coaster, and together danced the fox-trot at the -Palisades Amusement Park, was the beginning of my career in the world of -the dance.</p> - -<p>During Pavlova’s Hippodrome engagement I doubt I missed a performance. I -also saw a good deal of her off stage. A close friendship was formed and -grew. Many suppers together, with Volinine, her partner, and Ivan -Clustine, her ballet-master.</p> - -<p>In the years that followed there developed a long and unforgettable -association. Her first tour under my management, and large parts of -others, we made together; and not, I may say, entirely for business -reasons. Thus did I learn to know the real Anna Pavlova.</p> - -<p>For those of a generation who know Pavlova only as a legend, there is a -large library of books about her as artist and dancer. As for myself, I -can only echo the opinion of J. L. Vaudoyer, the eminent French critic, -when he said: “Pavlova means to the dance, what a Racine is to poetry; a -Poussin to painting; a Gluck to music.”</p> - -<p>At the time of the Pavlova tours, the state of balletic appreciation in -America was certainly not very high. Pioneering in ballet was hard, -slogging work for all concerned, from every point of view. The endless -travel was not only boring but fatiguing. It took all our joint and -several wits to overcome the former, a strong constitution to endure the -latter. Traveling conditions then were infinitely more primitive than -now, making the strain of constant touring all the greater. The reason -that Pavlova willingly endured these grinding tours year after year was -because, in my belief, she simply could not live without working. These -tours were not predicated upon any necessity. Twenty-five years of her -life, at least one-half of it, she spent on trains and ships. Aside from -Ivy House, in London, to which she made brief visits, hotel rooms were -almost her only home. There was no financial necessity for this.</p> - -<p>Then, in addition to all the vicissitudes of travel under such -conditions, there persisted another aspect: the aesthetic inertia of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_22">{22}</a></span> -the public at the whistle-stops demanded every ounce and every facet of -audience persuasion.</p> - -<p>Among certain latter-day critics there exists a tendency not so much to -belittle as to try to underrate Pavlova, the dancer, Pavlova, the -artist; to negate her very great achievement Many of these denigrators -never saw her; still fewer knew her. Let me, for the benefit of the -doubters and those readers of another generation who are in the same -predicament, try to sum her up as she was, in terms of today.</p> - -<p>There exists a legend principally dealing with a certain intangible -quality she is said to have possessed. This legend is not exaggerated. -In any assessment of Anna Pavlova, her company, her productions, I ask -the reader to bear in mind that for twelve years she was the only ballet -pioneer regularly touring the country. She was the first to bring ballet -to hundreds of American communities. I should be the first to admit that -her stage productions, taken by and large, were less effective than are -those of today; but I ask you, at the same time, to bear in mind the -development of, and changes that have taken place in, the provincial -theatre in its progress from the gas-light age, and to try to compare -producing conditions as they were then, with the splendid auditoriums -and the modern equipment to be found in many places today. Compare, if -you will, the Broadway theatre productions of today with those of -thirty-five years ago.</p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova was a firm believer in the “star” system, firmly entrenched -as she was in the unassailable position of the <i>prima ballerina -assoluta</i>. Her companies were always adequate. They were completely and -perfectly disciplined. They were at all times reflections of her own -directing and organizing ability. Always there were supporting dancers -of more than competence. Her partners are names to be honored and -remembered in ballet: Adolph Bolm, with whom she made her first tour -away from Imperial Russia and its Ballet: Mikhail Mordkin, Laurent -Novikoff, Alexandre Volinine, and Pierre Vladimiroff; the latter three, -one in the American mid-west, one in Paris, and one in New York, still -founts of technical knowledge and tradition for aspiring dancers.</p> - -<p>In its time and place her repertoire was large and varied. Pavlova was -acquainting a great country with an art hitherto unknown. She was -bringing ballet to the masses. If there was more convention than -experiment in her programmes, it must be remembered that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_23">{23}</a></span> there did not -exist an audience even for convention, much less one ready for -experimentation. An audience had to be created.</p> - -<p>It should be noted that at this time there did not exist as well, so far -as this continent was concerned, as there did in Europe, any body of -informed critical opinion. The newspapers of the wide open spaces did -not have a single dance critic. In these places dance was left to music -and theatre reporters in the better instances; to sports writers on less -fortunate occasions.</p> - -<p>Conditions were not notably better in New York. Richard Aldrich, then -the music critic of <i>The New York Times</i>, was completely anti-dance, and -used the word “sacrilege” in connection with Pavlova and her -performances. More sympathetic attitudes were recorded later by W. J. -Henderson of <i>The Sun</i>, and by Deems Taylor. About the only New York -metropolitan critic with any real understanding of and appreciation for -the dance was that informed champion of the arts, Carl Van Vechten.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned Pavlova’s title as <i>prima ballerina assoluta</i>. She held -it indisputably. In the hierarchy of ballet it is a three-fold title, -signifying honor, dignity, and the establishment of its holder in the -highest rank. With Pavlova it was all these things. But it was something -more. Hers was a unique position. She was the possessor of an absolute -perfection, a perfection achieved in the most difficult of all -schools—the school of tradition of the classical ballet. She possessed, -as an artist, the accumulated wisdom of a unique aesthetic language. -This language she uttered with a beauty and conviction greater than that -of her contemporaries.</p> - -<p>Unlike certain <i>ballerinas</i> of today, and one in particular who would -like ballet-lovers to regard her as the protégé, disciple, and -reincarnation of Pavlova rolled into one, Pavlova never indulged in -exhibitions of technical feats of remarkable virtuosity for the mere -sake of eliciting gasps from an audience. Hers was an exhibition of the -traditional school at its best, a school famed for its soundness. Her -balance was something almost incredible; but never was it used for -circus effects. There was in everything she did an exquisite lyricism, -and an incomparable grace. And I come once again to that intangible -quality of hers. Diaghileff, with whom her independent, individualistic -spirit could remain only a brief time, called her “ ... the greatest -<i>ballerina</i> in the world. Like a Taglioni, she doesn’t dance, but -floats; of her, also, one might say she could walk over a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_24">{24}</a></span> cornfield -without breaking a stalk.” The distinguished playwright, John Van -Druten, years later, used a similar simile, when he described Pavlova’s -dancing “as the wind passing like a shadow over a field of wheat.”</p> - -<p>Does it matter that Pavlova did not leave behind any examples of great -choreographic art? Is it of any lasting importance that her repertoire -was not studded with experiments, but rather was composed of sound, -well-made pieces, chiefly by her ballet-master, Ivan Clustine? Hers was -a highly personal art. The purity and nobility of her style compensated -and more than compensated for any production shortcomings. The important -thing she left behind is an ineffable spirit that inhabits every -performance of classical ballet, every classroom where classical ballet -is taught. As a dancer, no one had had a greater flexibility in styles, -a finer dramatic ability, a deeper sense of character, a wider range of -facial expressions. Let us not forget her successful excursions into the -Oriental dance, the Hindu, the dances of Japan.</p> - -<p>Above and beyond all this, I like to remember the great humanity and -simplicity of Pavlova, the woman. I have seen all sides of her -character. There are those who could testify to a very human side. A -friend of mine, on being taken back stage at the Manhattan Opera House -in New York to meet Pavlova for the first time, was greeted by a -fusillade of ballet slippers being hurled with unerring aim, not at him, -but at the departing back of her husband, Victor Dandré, all to the -accompaniment of pungent Russian imprecations. Under the strain of -constant performance and rehearsal, she was human enough to be ill -tempered. It was quite possible for her to be completely unreasonable.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, there are innumerable instances of her -warmheartedness, her generosity, her tenderness. Passionately fond of -children, and denied any of her own, the tenderness and concern she -showed for all children was touching. This took on a very practical -expression in the home she established and maintained in a <i>hôtel privé</i> -in Paris for some thirty-odd refugee children. This she supported, not -only with money, but with a close personal supervision.</p> - -<p>Worldly things, money, jewelry, meant little to her. She was a truly -simple person. Much of her most valuable jewelry was rarely, if ever, -worn. Most of it remained in a safe-deposit vault in a Broadway bank in -New York City, where it was found only after her death.</p> - -<p>Money was anything but a motivating force in her life. I remem<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_25">{25}</a></span>ber once -when she was playing an engagement in Chicago. For some reason business -was bad, very bad, as, on more than one occasion, it was. The public at -this time was firmly staying away from the theatre. I was in a depressed -mood, not only because expenses were high and receipts low, but because -of the effect that half-empty houses might have on Pavlova and her -spirits.</p> - -<p>While I tried to put on a smiling front that night at supper after the -performance, Pavlova soon penetrated my poker-faced veneer. She leaned -across the table, took my hand.</p> - -<p>“What’s wrong, Hurokchik?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” I shrugged, with as much gallantry as I could muster.</p> - -<p>She continued to regard me seriously for a moment. Then:</p> - -<p>“Nonsense.” She repeated it with her usual finality of emphasis. -“Nonsense. I know what’s wrong. Business is bad, and I’m to blame for -it.... Look here ... I don’t want a penny, not a <i>kopeck</i>.... If you can -manage, pay the boys and girls; but as for me, nothing. Nothing, do you -understand? I don’t want it, and I shan’t take it.”</p> - -<p>Pavlova’s human qualities were, perhaps, never more in evidence than at -those times when, between tours and new productions, she rested “at -home,” at lovely Ivy House, in that northern London suburb, Golder’s -Green, not far from where there now rests all that was mortal of her: -East Wall 3711.</p> - -<p>Here in the rambling unpretentiousness of Ivy House, among her -treasures, surrounded by her pets, she was completely herself. Here such -parties as she gave took place. They were small parties, and the -“chosen” who were invited were old friends and colleagues. Although the -parties were small in size, the food was abundant and superlative. On -her American tours she had discovered that peculiarly American -institution, the cafeteria. After rehearsals, she would often pop into -one with the entire company. Eyes a-twinkle, she would wait until all -the company had chosen their various dishes, then select her own; after -depositing her heavily laden tray at her own table, she would pass among -the tables where the company was seated and sample something from every -dish. Pavlova adored good food. She saw to it that good food was served -at Ivy House and, for one so slight of figure, consumed it in amazing -abundance.</p> - -<p>One of these Ivy House parties in particular I remember vividly, for her -old friend, Féodor Chaliapine, that stupendous figure of the world of -the theatre who had played such an important part in my own life and -career, was, on this occasion, the life of the party. He<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_26">{26}</a></span> was in a -gargantuan mood. He had already dined before he arrived at Ivy House. I -could imagine the dinner he had put away, for often his table abounded -with such delicacies as a large salmon, often a side of lamb, suckling -pigs, and tureens of <i>schchee</i> and <i>borscht</i>. But despite this, he did -ample justice to Pavlova’s buffet and bar. His jokes and stories were -told to a spellbound audience. These were the rare occasions on which I -have seen this great musician, with his sombre, rather monkish face, -really relax.</p> - -<p>This night Pavlova was equally animated, and Chaliapine and she vied -with each other in story-telling. I studied them both as I watched them. -Pavlova had told me of her own origins and first beginnings; about her -father, her mother, her childhood poverty. Here she sat, sprung from -such a humble start, the world’s greatest dancer, the chatelaine of a -beautiful and simple home, the entire world at her feet.</p> - -<p>Facing her was another achievement, the poor boy of Kazan, who, in his -early life, suffered the pangs of hunger and misery which are the common -experience of the Russian poor. He had told me how, as a lad of -seventeen in the town of Kazan without a kopeck in his pocket, day after -day, he would walk through the streets and hungrily gaze into the -windows of the bakers’ shops with hopeless longing. “Hurok,” he had -said, “hunger is the most debasing of all suffering; it makes a man like -a beast, it humiliates him.”</p> - -<p>One of the few serious stories he told that evening was of the time when -he and my childhood idol, Maxim Gorky, were working on the boats on the -Volga and had to improvise trousers out of two pairs of old wheat-sacks -which they tied round their waists. Gorky and Chaliapine were both from -Kazan and of the same age. Tonight, as the party wore on, Chaliapine -sang folk songs, gay songs, sad songs, ribald songs. Loving fine -raiment, tonight he had worn a tall gray top hat. When he arrived and we -had greeted him in the hallway, I caught him watching his reflection in -the long mirror and getting great satisfaction out of it. Now, as he -sang, he became a Tsar, and it was difficult to imagine that he had -never been anything but a great Tsar all his life.</p> - -<p>The party waxed even gayer, the hour grew late. We were all sitting on -the floor: Pavlova, Chaliapine, his wife Masha, and the other guests. -Chaliapine had been gazing at Pavlova for some time. Suddenly he turned -and fixed his eyes on his wife appraisingly.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_27">{27}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Masha, my dear,” he said, after a long moment, “you don’t object to my -having a child by Annushka?”</p> - -<p>Masha smiled tolerantly and quickly replied:</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you ask her?”</p> - -<p>Chaliapine, with all the dignity and solemnity of a Boris Godunoff, put -the question to Pavlova. Pavlova’s eyes fixed themselves on his, with -equal gravity.</p> - -<p>“My dear Fedya,” she said, quite solemnly, “such matters are not -discussed in public.”</p> - -<p>She paused, then added mischievously:</p> - -<p>“Let us make an appointment. I am leaving for Paris in a day or two.... -Perhaps I shall take you along with me....”</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>In all the dance, Pavlova was my first love. It was from her I received -my strongest and most lasting impressions. She proved and realized my -dreams. To the Western World, and particularly to America, she brought a -new and stimulating form of art expression. She introduced standards, if -not ideas, that have had an almost revolutionary effect.</p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova had everything, both as an artist and as a human being.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_28">{28}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_3">3.</a> Three Ladies: Not From the Maryinsky</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="r"> -A. <i>A NEGLECTED AMERICAN GENIUS—AND<br /> -HER “CHILDREN”</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span><b>LTHOUGH</b> my association with her was marked by a series of explosions -and an overall atmosphere of tragi-comedy, it is a source of pride to me -that I was able to number among my dance connections that neglected -American genius, Isadora Duncan.</p> - -<p>It was Anna Pavlova who spurred my enthusiasm to bring Isadora to her -own country, in 1922, a fact accomplished only with considerable -difficulty, as those who have read my earlier volume of memoirs will -recollect.</p> - -<p>Despite the fact they had little in common, Pavlova had a tremendous -respect for this tall American dancer, who abhorred ballet.</p> - -<p>Genius is a dangerous word. Often it is bandied about carelessly and, -sometimes, indiscriminately. In the case of this long-limbed girl from -California it could not be applied more accurately or more precisely, -for she was a genius as a person as well as an artist. She brought to -Europe and to her own America, as well, a new aesthetic.</p> - -<p>One of four children of a rebellious mother who divorced the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_29">{29}</a></span> father she -did not love, Isadora’s childhood was spent in a quasi-Bohemian -atmosphere in her native San Francisco, where her mother eked out a -dubious living by giving music lessons. Isadora was the youngest of the -four. Brother Augustin took to the theatre; Brother Raymond to long -hair, sandals, Greek robes, and asceticism; Sister Elizabeth eventually -took over Isadora’s Berlin School.</p> - -<p>What started Isadora on the road of the dance may never be known; -although it is a well established fact that she danced as a child in San -Francisco, and early in her career traveled across the United States, -dancing her way, more or less, to New York. I am reasonably certain that -her dancing of that period bore little or no relation to that of her -later period. Her early works were, for the most part, innocuous little -pieces done to snippets of music by Romantic composers. Her triumphs -were in monumental works by Beethoven, Wagner, César Franck.</p> - -<p>Her battle was for “freedom”: freedom in the dance; freedom in wearing -apparel; freedom for women; freedom for the body; freedom for the human -spirit. In the dance, ballet was to her a distortion of the human form. -Personally, I suspect the truth was that the strict discipline of ballet -was something to which Isadora could not submit. Inspiration was her -guiding force. She wore Greek draperies when she danced; her feet were -bare. Yet there are photographs of Isadora, taken in the later -’nineties, showing her wearing ballet slippers, and a costume in which -considerable lace is to be seen. It was Europe, I feel, that “freed” her -dance.</p> - -<p>Isadora’s was a European triumph. In turn she conquered Germany, -Austria-Hungary, Russia, Greece. She was hailed and fêted. There was no -place in the American theatre for Isadora’s simplicity and utter -artlessness. It was in Budapest that the tide turned for her, thanks -particularly to an able manager, one Alexander Gross. While I never knew -Mr. Gross, I believe he fulfilled the true manager’s purpose and -function. Gross made an audience for a great artist, an audience where -one did not exist before, until, eventually, all Europe was her -audience.</p> - -<p>I have said that inspiration was Isadora’s guide. She did, of course, -have theories of dance; but these theories were, for the most part, -expressed in vague and general, rather than in precise and particular, -terms. They can be summed up in a sentence. She believed that dance was -life: therefore, the expression of some inner impulse, or urge, or -inspiration. The source of this impulse she believed was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_30">{30}</a></span> centered in -the solar plexus. She also believed she was of tremendous importance. -Her own ideas of her own importance were, in my opinion, sometimes -inflated.</p> - -<p>To her eternal credit it must be noted that she battled against sugary -music, against trivial themes, against artificiality of all sorts. When -her “inspiration” did not proceed directly from the solar plexus, she -found it in nature—in the waves of the sea and their rhythms, in the -simple process of the opening of a flower.</p> - -<p>These frank and simple and desirable objectives, if they had been all, -would not have excited the tremendous opposition that was hers -throughout her lifetime. Nor did this opposition, I believe, spring -solely from her unconventional ideas on love and sex. Isadora insisted -on becoming a citizen of the world, a champion of the world’s less -fortunate, the underprivileged. In doing so she cleared the air of a lot -of nonsense and a lot of nineteenth century prudery which was by way of -being carried over into the twentieth.</p> - -<p>In Europe, in each and every country she visited, she arrayed herself on -the side of the angels, i.e., the revolutionaries. The same is true in -her own country. She shocked her wealthy patrons with demonstrations of -her own particular brand of democracy.</p> - -<p>There was an occasion, during one of her appearances at the Metropolitan -Opera House, when she walked with that especial Isadorian grace to the -footlights and gave the audience, with special reference to the -boxholders, the benefits of the following speech:</p> - -<p>“Beethoven and Schubert,” she said, “were children of the people all -their lives. They were poor men and their great work was inspired by and -belongs to humanity. The people need great drama, music, dancing. We -went over to the East Side and gave a performance for nothing. What -happened? The people sat there transfixed, with tears rolling down their -cheeks. That is how they cared for it. Funds of life and poetry and art -are waiting to spring from the people of the East Side.... Build for -them a great amphitheatre, the only democratic form of theatre, where -everyone has an equal view, no boxes; no balconies.... Why don’t you -give art to the people who really need it? Great music should no longer -be kept for the delight of a handful of cultured people. It should be -given free to the masses. It is as necessary for them as air and bread. -Give it to them, for it is the spiritual wine of humanity.”</p> - -<p>As for the ballet, she continued to have none of it. She once remarked: -“The old-fashioned waltz and mazurka are merely an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_31">{31}</a></span> expression of sickly -sentimentality and romance which our youth and our times have outgrown. -The minuet is but the expression of the unctuous servility of courtiers -at the time of Louis XIV and hooped skirts.”</p> - -<p>Isadora’s European successes led to the establishment of schools of her -own, where her theories could be expounded and developed. The first of -these was in Berlin, and as her pupils, her “children,” developed, she -appeared with them. When she first went to Russia, the controversy she -stirred up has become a matter of ballet history; and it is a matter of -record that she influenced that father of the “romantic revolution” in -ballet, Michel Fokine.</p> - -<p>Russia figured extensively in Isadora’s life, for she gave seasons -there, first in 1905, and again in 1907 and 1912. Then, revolutionary -that she was, she returned to the Soviet in 1921, established a school -there and, in 1922, married the “hooligan” poet, Sergei Essenin. -Throughout her life, Isadora had denounced marriage as an institution, -disavowed it, fought it, bore three children outside it, on the ground -that it existed only for the enslavement of woman.</p> - -<p>There had been three Duncan seasons in America before I brought her, in -1922, for what proved to be her final visit to her native country. The -earlier American series were in 1908, when she danced with Walter -Damrosch and the New York Symphony Orchestra, at the Metropolitan Opera -House, prior to a tour; in 1911, when she again danced with Damrosch; -again in 1916, when she returned to California, early the next year, -after a twenty-two years’ absence. She also visited New York, briefly, -in 1915, impulsively renting a studio at Fourth Avenue and Twenty-third -Street, with the idea of establishing a school. It was during this brief -visit that she made history of a kind by suddenly improvising a dance to -the French national anthem at the Metropolitan Opera House.</p> - -<p>As I have pointed out, enlightened dance criticism, so far as the -newspapers were concerned, in those days was almost non-existent. For -those readers who might be interested, however, there are available, in -the files of <i>The New York Times</i>, penetrating analyses of her -performances by the discerning Carl Van Vechten.</p> - -<p>The story of Isadora’s intervening years is marked by light and shadow. -Hers was a life that could not long retain happiness within its grasp. -Snatches of happiness were hers in her brief association with England’s -greatly talented stage designer, that misunderstood genius of the -theatre, Gordon Craig, the son of Ellen Terry, by whom<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_32">{32}</a></span> Isadora had a -child; and yet another child by the lover who was known only as -Lohengrin.</p> - -<p>Her passionate love of children was touching. Never was it better -exemplified than by her several schools, her devotion to the girls and -her concern for them. Most of all was it apparent in her selflessness in -her attitude towards her own two children. It is not difficult to -imagine the depth of the tragedy for her when a car in which they were -riding on their way to Versailles toppled into the Seine, and the -children were drowned. A third child, her dream of comfort and -consolation, died at birth.</p> - -<p>It was in an attempt to forget this last tragedy that she brought her -school to New York. That same Otto Kahn, who had made Pavlova’s first -visit to America possible, came to her rescue and footed the bills for a -four weeks’ season at the old Century Theatre, which stood in lower -Central Park West, where Brother Augustin held forth with Greek drama -and biblical verse, and Isadora and the “children” danced. The public -remained away. There was a press appeal for funds with which to -liquidate a $12,000 indebtedness and to provide funds with which to get -Isadora and the “children” to Italy. Another distinguished art patron, -the late Frank Vanderlip, and others came to the rescue with cash and -note endorsements. Thus, once again, Isadora put her native America -behind her in disgust. Her parting shot at the country of her birth was -a blast at Americans living and battening in luxury on their war profits -while Europe bled.</p> - -<p>Her 1916-1917 visit to her home shores was no more auspicious than the -others. She danced, as I have said, at the Metropolitan Opera House. -Lover Lohengrin gave her a magnificent party following the performance, -a soirée that ended in an expensive and scandalous debácle. Isadora sold -her jewels piece by piece, and succeeded in establishing her school at -Long Beach. Quickly the money disappeared, and Gordon Selfridge, the -London equivalent of Marshall Field, paid her passage to London. The -“children,” now grown up into the “Isadorables,” remained behind to make -themselves American careers.</p> - -<p>It was after Isadora’s departure for London, in 1917, that I undertook -to help the six “children” to attain their desires. They were a -half-dozen of the loveliest children imaginable.</p> - -<p>For their American debut as an independent group, we first engaged -George Copeland, specialist in the works of contemporary French and -Spanish composers, and an artist of the first rank, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_33">{33}</a></span> later, Beryl -Rubinstein, American composer and teacher, and until his recent death -director of the Cleveland Institute, as accompanists.</p> - -<p>Smart New York had adopted the “Isadorables.” The fashionable magazines -had taken them up and had spread Dr. Arnold Genthe’s photographs of -Anna, Lysel, Gretl, Thérése, Erica, and Irma over their pages. Frank -Crowninshield championed them. During a hot June they sold out a -half-dozen performances in Carnegie Hall, which takes some doing at any -time of the year. Following a successful tour, I presented them at the -Metropolitan Opera House, this time with an orchestra.</p> - -<p>The girls, charming, delightful, fresh, were a direct product of -Isadora, for which she used herself as model. Theirs was a reproduction -of Isadora’s art. One of them functions actively today, Maria Thérésa, -giving out a fine, strong, sturdy reflection of Isadora’s training and -ideas. Basically, as an individualist, Isadora was a solo artist. She -made no great effort to build up group dances into a series of linked -dances that result in some form of dance drama. Such mass dances as she -arranged were in imitation of the Greek chorus. Broken down into simple -elements, they were nothing more than lines of girls, all of whom -repeated the same simple movements. Her own creative gifts, which were -magnificent, found their expression in her solo dances, and it is in -this respect Maria Thérésa splendidly carries on.</p> - -<p>It was in Germany that Isadora’s ideas made the deepest impression, and -any legacy she may have left finds its expression in the “free” school -that comes out of that country. If she had no abiding place, Berlin saw -more of her when she was at her best than any other country. It was -there that the term “goddess” was attached to her. Even the sick were -brought to see the performances of the <i>Göttliche Heilige</i> Isadora in -order that they might be cured. The serious German writers were greatly -impressed. Isadora expressed it thus: “The weekly receptions at our -house in Victoria Strasse became the centre of artistic and literary -enthusiasm. Here took place many learned discussions on the dance as a -fine art; for the Germans take every art discussion most seriously, and -give the deepest consideration to it. My dance became the subject of -violent and even fiery debates. Whole columns constantly appeared in all -the papers, sometimes hailing me as a genius of a newly discovered art, -sometimes denouncing me as a destroyer of the real classic dance, i.e., -the ballet.”</p> - -<p>In <i>Impresario</i> I have written about Isadora’s last American tour,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_34">{34}</a></span> -under my management, in all its more lurid aspects. In February, 1923, -she returned to France, and in 1924 went back to Russia with her -poet-husband, Essenin. Not long after, Essenin hanged himself to a hook -on the wall of his room in the Hotel Angleterre, in Leningrad. In 1927, -Isadora returned to Paris, and on 8th July gave her last concert at the -Théâtre Mogador.</p> - -<p>Her last conversation with me in Paris was of the “children.” This time -she was referring to the pupils at her school in Russia. As I listened, -I could only feel that these “children” were to her but symbols of her -own two children wastefully drowned in the Seine. She wanted me to bring -her Russian “children” to America—a visit, as it were, of her own -spirit to her native land which had refused to accept her.</p> - -<p>I promised.</p> - -<p>In 1928, I was able to fulfill that promise by bringing fifteen of them, -chosen by Irma of the “Isadorables,” for a tour. Irma came with them, -presided over them; brought them back for a second tour. Irma now lives -quietly in the Connecticut countryside.</p> - -<p>A twisting scarf, caught in the wheels of the car in which she was -riding, ended the earthly career of a misunderstood American genius. Was -the end deliberate? I only know she longed to die, she with the -passionate love for life.</p> - -<p>A tremendous freedom-loving American, she may, I feel, be called the -first American dancer, in the sense that she brought a new style and a -new manner, away from the accepted form of ballet. I, for one, believe -that Isadora did more than any one else I know for the dance in America, -and received less gratitude and recognition for her contribution.</p> - -<p>Now that she is dead, I feel for her exactly as I always felt. Though we -do not love our friends for one particular quality but as a whole, there -is usually an element which, while the friend is still with us, -especially appeals to us, and the memory of which we most cherish when -he or she is absent for a while or for ever. For me that element in -Isadora was and is the extreme gentleness hidden in her heart of hearts. -Those who knew her only as a combative spirit in the world of the dance -may be astonished at that statement. Yet I hold that gentleness to have -been absolutely fundamental in her character and that not a few of her -troubles were attributable to continuing and exasperating outrage of it.</p> - -<p>There was a superficial side of her that may seem to contradict<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_35">{35}</a></span> that -gentleness. She had exasperating eccentricities, stupid affectations. -Her childishness and capriciousness, her downright wilfulness could -drive me nearly to distraction. She could, and often did waste infinite -hours of my time, and her own and others’ money. She lacked discipline -in herself, her life, her work. She could have been less arbitrary in -many things, including her condemnation of ballet. On the other hand, -she had a quality of communication rare indeed in the theatre. Her -faults were, as I have said, superficialities. At base she was a -genuinely gentle person.</p> - -<p>Just because she was gentle she could, her sympathy being aroused, exert -herself to an extraordinary degree and after no gentle fashion on behalf -of those things in which she believed, and of others, particularly -artists. For the same reason, she frequently could not properly exert -herself on her own behalf. She was weary (weary unto death at the last) -when that spring of gentleness, in which some of her best work had its -origin, failed her. Hers was an intellect, in my opinion, of wider -range, of sterner mettle, of tougher integrity, of more persistent -energy and of more imaginative quality than those of her detractors. I -hold because of Isadora’s innate gentleness, and the fact it was so -fundamental a thing in her, being exasperated both by the events of her -life and by her intellect’s persistent commentary upon those events, she -became towards the close so utterly weary and exhausted that any -capacity for a rational synthesis was lost. Hers was a romantic nature, -and a rational synthesis usually proceeds by the tenderness of the heart -working upon the intellect to urge upon it some suspension of judgment, -and not by the hardness of the intellect working upon the heart and -bidding it, in reason’s name, to cease expecting to find things other -and better than they are: the hearts of other humans more tender and -their heads one whit less dense.</p> - -<p>A few words on what has been criticized by many as her “free living.” -Today an unthinking license prevails in many circles. If Isadora’s life -displayed “license” in this sense, it certainly was not an unthinking -“license.” Isadora strongly held theories about personal freedom of -thought and behavior and dared to act according to them. Those theories -may be wrong. That is a problem I have not here space to discuss. But -that, believing in those theories, Isadora acted upon them and did not -reserve them merely for academic discussion, I hold to her eternal -credit. That Isadora did others and herself damage in the process must -be admitted. But I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_36">{36}</a></span> have observed that many “conventional” persons do -others and themselves a great deal of damage without displaying a tithe -of Isadora’s integrity and courage, since they act crudely upon theories -in which they no longer in their heart of hearts believe, or contradict -their theories in captious action for lack of courage to discover new -theories. Let us not forget that “few know the use of life before ’tis -past.” Isadora died before she was fifty, endowed with a temperament -little calculated to make easy the paths of true wisdom, paths which, I -venture to suggest, often contradict the stereotyped notions of them -entertained by those who are unable or unwilling too closely to consider -the matter. To her personal tragedies must be added the depressing -influence of the unfathomable indifference of her countrymen to art and -artists and to herself.</p> - -<p>I take it I have said enough to indicate that such “conventional” -solutions as may occur to some readers were inadmissible in Isadora’s -case, just as inadmissible in fact as they would be in a novel by -Dostoievsky. In any event, she paid to the end for any mistakes she may -have made, and it is not our duty to sit in judgment on her, whether one -theoretically disapproves of her use of what sometimes has been called -the “escape-road.” It is one’s duty to understand, and by understanding -to forgive.</p> - -<p>I have heard it remarked that there was a streak of cruelty in Isadora. -Gentle natures of acute sensibility and strong intelligence, long -exasperated by indifference and opposition to what they hold of -sovereign importance in art and life, are apt to turn cruel and even -vindictive at times. I never witnessed her alleged cruelty or -vindictiveness to any one and I will not go on hearsay.</p> - -<p>One of the great satisfactions of a long career in the world of dance is -that I was able to be of some service to this neglected genius. I can -think of no finer summation of her than the words of that strange, aloof -genius of the British theatre, Gordon Craig, when he wrote:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“ .... She springs from the Great Race——<br /></span> -<span class="i5">From the line of Sovereigns, who<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Maintain the world and make it move,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">From the Courageous Giants,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">The Guardians of Beauty——<br /></span> -<span class="i5">The Solver of all Riddles.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_37">{37}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<p class="r"> -<i>B. COLORED LIGHTS AND FLUTTERING SCARVES</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>It is a far cry from Isadora to another American dancer, whose -“children” I toured across America and back, in 1926.</p> - -<p>Loie Fuller, “the lady with the scarf,” was at that period championed by -her friend, the late Queen Marie of Roumania, when that royal lady -embarked upon a lecture tour of the United States that same year. Loie -Fuller was loosely attached to the royal entourage.</p> - -<p>“La Loie” had established a school in Paris, and wanted to exhibit the -prowess of her pupils. I was inveigled into bringing them quite as much -by Loie Fuller’s dynamic, active manager, Mrs. Bloch, as I was by the -aging dancer herself.</p> - -<p>Loie Fuller was something of a phenomenon. Born in Chicago, in 1862, her -first fame was gained as a child temperance lecturer in the mid-west. -According to her biographers, she took some dancing lessons, but found -the lessons too difficult and abandoned them after a short time. -Switching to the study of voice, she gave up her youthful Carrie Nation -attacks on alcohol and obtained a singing part in a stage production. As -the story goes, while she was appearing in this stage role, a friend in -India made her a gift of a long scarf of very light weight silk. Playing -with her present, watching it float through the air with the greatest of -ease, she found her vocation. It was as simple as that.</p> - -<p>Here was something new: a dance in which a great amount of fluttering -silk was kept aloft, the while upon it there constantly played -variegated lights, projected by what in the profession is known as a -“color-wheel,” a circular device containing various colored media, -rotated before an arc-lamp. Thus was born the <i>Serpentine Dance</i>.</p> - -<p>Here was no struggle on the part of the artist to find her medium of -expression, no seeking for a new technique or slogging effort perfecting -an old one; no hours spent sweating at the <i>barre</i>; no heartache. Loie -Fuller was not concerned with steps, with style, with a unique and -individual quality of movement. Loie Fuller had a scarf. Loie Fuller had -an instantaneous success. Her career was made on the <i>Serpentine Dance</i>. -But she also had one other inspiration. A “sunrise” stage effect that -she used was mistaken by the audience as a dance of fire, as the light -rays touched her flowing scarves and draperies. “La Loie” was not one to -miss a chance. She gathered her electricians about her—for in the early -days of stage lighting<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_38">{38}</a></span> with electricity nothing was impossible. The -revolving “light-wheels” were increased in number, as were the -spot-lights.</p> - -<p>Since all this happened in Paris, Loie Fuller’s <i>Danse de Feu</i> became to -France what the <i>Serpentine Dance</i> had been to America. The French -adopted her as their own. Widely loved, she became “La Loie.” Her stage -arrangements were often startling; they could not always be called -dancing. The arms and feet of her “children” were always subordinated to -the movements of the draperies. So tricky was the business of the -draperies that it is said that none of her designers or seamstresses -were permitted to know more than a small part of their actual -construction.</p> - -<p>Her imitators were many, with the result that, for a time, the musical -comedy stages of both Europe and America had an inundation of -illuminated dry goods. It was the “children” who kept “La Loie’s” -serpentine and fire dances alive.</p> - -<p>When Loie Fuller suggested the American tour, the idea interested me -because of the novelty involved. It was, incidentally, my only -“incognito” tour. I accepted an invitation from Queen Marie of Roumania -to visit her at the Royal Palace in Bucharest to discuss the proposed -tour with Her Majesty and Loie Fuller, who was a close friend and -confidante of the Queen. The tour was in the interest of one of the -Queen’s pet charities and, moreover, it had diplomatic overtones. -Naturally, under the circumstances, no managerial auspices were credited -on the programmes.</p> - -<p>In addition to the purely Loie Fuller characteristic numbers, the Loie -Fuller Dancers, on this tour, offered <i>Some Dance Scenes from the Fairy -Tale of Her Majesty Queen Marie’s</i> “<i>The Lilly of Life</i>,” as <i>presented -at the Grand Opera, Paris</i>.</p> - -<p>Apart from this, the “children” had all the old Loie Fuller tricks, and -a few new ones. Their dance vocabulary was far from extensive, but there -was a pleasant enough quality about it.</p> - -<p>When I made the tour, in association with Queen Marie, the “children” -were, to put it kindly, on the mature side; and it took a great deal of -their dramatic, vital and dynamic managers drive to keep the silks -fluttering aloft. Mrs. Bloch was a remarkable woman, who had handled the -“children” for Loie Fuller a long time.</p> - -<p>The tour of the Loie Fuller Dancers is not one of my proudest -achievements; but I know the gay colours, the changing lights brought -pleasure to many.</p> - -<p>Years later, on a visit to Paris, I received a telephone call from<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_39">{39}</a></span> Mrs. -Bloch, requesting an appointment. It was arranged for the following day. -At the appointed hour I went down to the foyer of the Hotel Meurice to -await her coming.</p> - -<p>Some minutes later, I observed an elderly lady, supported by a cane, -enter and cross the foyer, walking slowly as the aged do, and using her -cane noticeably to assist her. I paid scant attention until, from where -I sat near the desk, I overheard her explaining to the <i>conciérge</i> that -she had a “rendezvous” with Monsieur Hurok.</p> - -<p>I simply did not recognize the human dynamo of 1926. A quarter of a -century had slipped by. Much of that time, she told me, she had spent in -Africa. Despite the change in her physical appearance, despite the toll -of the years, the flame still burned within her.</p> - -<p>Her mission? To try to get me to bring the Loie Fuller Dancers to -America for another tour.</p> - -<p>As I observed the changes that had taken place in their manager, I could -not help visualizing what twenty-five years must have done to the -“children.”</p> - -<p class="r"> -C. <i>A TEUTONIC PRIESTESS</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>My dance associations in what I may call my “early middle” period led me -into excursions far afield from that form of dance expression which is -to me the most completely satisfying form of theatrical experience.</p> - -<p>For the sake of the record, let us set the date of this period as 1930. -Surely there have been few in the history of the dance whose approach to -the medium was so foreign to and so different from the classical ballet, -where lie my deepest interests and my chief delight, than that Teutonic -priestess, Mary Wigman.</p> - -<p>When I brought Wigman to America, shortly after the Great Crash, she was -no longer young. She had been born in Germany, in 1886, and could hardly -have been called a “baby ballerina.” Originally a pupil of Emile Jacques -Dalcroze, the father of Eurhythmics, whose pupils in a “demonstration” -had kindled Wigman’s interest in the dance, she did not remain long with -him. Dalcroze himself, at this stage, apparently had little interest in -dancing. However, he established certain methods which proved of -interest to certain gifted dancers. The Dalcroze basis was musical, and -his chief function was to foster a feeling for music in his pupils. -Music frustrated, handicapped, restricted her, Wigman felt. -Individualist that she<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_40">{40}</a></span> was, she left her teacher in order to work out -her own dance destiny. There followed a period of some uncertainty on -her part, and, for a time, she became a pupil of the Hungarian teacher, -Rudolf von Laban, who laid down in pre-war Germany the foundations for -modern dance. Unlike Isadora Duncan, Laban had no aversion to ballet. As -a matter of fact, he liked much of it, was influenced by it; was -impressed by the Diaghileff Ballet, was friendly with Diaghileff, and -became an intimate of Michel Fokine. His later violent reaction from -ballet was certainly not based on lack of knowledge of it.</p> - -<p>At the Laban school, Wigman collaborated with him, and having a streak -of choreographic genius, was able to put some of Laban’s theories into -practical form. However, Mary Wigman’s forceful personality was greater -than any school and, in 1919, she broke away from Laban, and formed a -school of her own. She abandoned what were to her the restricting -influences of formal music, as Isadora had abandoned clothing -restrictions. A dancer of tremendous power, like Isadora she had an -overwhelming personality. Again, like Isadora, all this had a tendency -to make her pupils only pale imitations of herself. Wigman’s public -career, a secondary matter with her, actually began in Dresden, in 1918, -with her <i>Seven Dances of Life</i>. Dresden was her temple. Here the -Teutonic Priestess of the Dance presided over her personal religion of -movement. German girls were joined by Americans. The disciples grew in -number and spread out through Germany like proselyting missionaries. -Wigman groups radiated the gospel until one found schools and factories -and societies turning out <i>en masse</i> for “demonstrations” of the Wigman -method. I have said that Wigman found music a deterrent to her method.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, one of the most important features of her “school” -was a serious, thorough, Germanic research into the question of what she -felt was the proper musical accompaniment for dance. Her pupils learned -to devise their own rhythmic accompaniment. In her show pieces, at any -rate, Wigman’s technique was to have the music for the dance composed -simultaneously with the creation of the dance movements—certainly a new -type of collaboration.</p> - -<p>In addition to forming a “<i>schule</i>,” where great emphasis was laid on -“<i>spannungen</i>,” perhaps best explained as tensions and relaxations, she -also created a philosophical cult in that strange hot-house that was -pre-war Germany, with an intellectualized approach to sex.</p> - -<p>I had known about her and her work long before I signed a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_41">{41}</a></span> contract with -her for the 1930-1931 season. Pavlova had talked to me about her and had -aroused my curiosity and interest; but I was unable to imagine what -might be America’s reaction to her. I was turning the idea over in my -mind, when there appeared at my office,—in those days in West -Forty-second Street, overlooking Bryant Park,—a young and earnest -enthusiast to plead her case. His name was John Martin.</p> - -<p>In an earlier chapter I have pointed out the low estate of dance -criticism of that period. In its wisdom, the <i>New York Times</i> had, -shortly before the period of which I now write, taken tentative steps to -correct this deficiency by creating a dance department on the paper, -with John Martin engaged to report the dance. Martin’s earnest and -special pleading on behalf of Mary Wigman moved me and, as always, eager -to experiment and present something new and fresh, I decided to cast the -die.</p> - -<p>The effect of my first announcement of her coming was a bit -disconcerting. The first to react were the devotees. There was a -fanaticism about them that was disturbing. It is one thing to have a -handful of vociferous idolaters, and quite another to be able to fill -houses with paying customers night after night.</p> - -<p>When I met Wigman at the pier on her arrival in New York, I greeted a -middle-aged muscular Amazon, a rather stuffy appearing Teutonic Amazon, -wearing a beaver coat of dubious age, and a hat that had seen better -days. But what struck me more forcibly than the plainness of her apparel -was the woman herself. She greeted me with a warm smile; her gray eyes -were large, frank, and widely set; and from beneath the venerable and -rather battered hat, fell a shock of thick, wavy brown hair. She spoke -softly, deeply, in a completely unaccented English with a British -intonation.</p> - -<p>There was no ballet company with her, no ship-load of scenery, -properties and costumes. Her company was made up of two persons in -addition to herself: a lesser Amazon in the person of Meta Mens, who -presided over Wigman’s costumes—one trunk—and her percussion -instruments—tam-tams, Balinese gongs, and a fistful of reedy wind -instruments; the other, a lanky, pale-faced chap with hyper-thyroid -eyes, Hanns Hastings, who composed and played such music as Wigman used.</p> - -<p>On the day before the opening, I gave a party at the Plaza Hotel as a -semi-official welcome on the part of our American dancers, among whom -were included that great pioneer of our native<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_42">{42}</a></span> contemporary dance, -Martha Graham, together with Doris Humphrey, Charles Weidman, and, of -course, that champion of the modern dance, John Martin.</p> - -<p>Much depended upon Wigman’s first New York performance. A tour had been -arranged, but not booked. There is a decided difference in the terms. In -the language of the theatre, a tour is not “booked” until the contracts -have been signed. The preliminary arrangements are called “pencilling -in.” The pencil notations are inked only when signatures are attached to -the contracts. If the New York <i>première</i> fizzled, there would be no -inking. I had taken the Forty-sixth Street Theatre, and the publicity -campaign under the direction of my good friend, Gerald Goode, had been -under way for weeks.</p> - -<p>It was a distinguished audience and a curious one that assembled in the -Forty-sixth Street Theatre for the opening performance. It was an -enthusiastic one that left at the end. I had gone back stage before the -curtain rose to wish Wigman well, but the priestess was unapproachable. -As she did before each performance, she entered the “silence.” Under no -circumstances did she permit any disturbance. She would arrive at the -theatre a long time before the scheduled time of the curtain’s rise, -and, in her darkened dressing-room, lie in a mystic trance. Later she -danced as one possessed.</p> - -<p>If the opening night audience was enthusiastic, which it was, I am -equally sure some of its members were confused. At later performances, -as I stood in my customary position at the rear of the auditorium as the -public left the theatre, I was not infrequently pressed by questions. -These questions, however they may have been phrased, meant the same -thing. “What do the dances mean?” “What is she trying to say?” “What -does it all signify?” I am not easily embarrassed, as a rule. The -constant reiteration of this question, however, proved an exception.</p> - -<p>For the benefit of a generation unfamiliar with the Wigman dance, I -should explain that her dances were, as she called them, “cycles.” In -other words, her performances consisted of groups of dances with an -alleged relationship: a relationship so difficult to discern, however, -that I suspect it must have existed only in Wigman’s mind. The one dance -that stands out most vividly in my mind is one she called <i>Monotonie</i>. -In <i>Monotonie</i>, Wigman stood in the dead center of the stage. Then she -whirled and whirled and whirled. As the whirling continued she was first -erect, then slowly crouching,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_43">{43}</a></span> slowly rising until she was erect again; -but always whirling, the while a puny four-note phrase was endlessly -repeated. Through a sort of self-hypnosis, her whirling had an hypnotic -effect on her. In a sort of mystic trance herself, Wigman succeeded, up -to a point, in inducing a similar reaction on her public.</p> - -<p>But what did it mean? I did not know, but I was determined to find out. -Audience members, local managers, newspaper men were badgering me for an -answer. To any query that I put to Wigman, her deep-throated reply was -always the same:</p> - -<p>“Oh, the meaning is too deep; I really can’t explain it.”</p> - -<p>It was much later, during the course of the tour following the New York -season, that I arrived at the “meaning” of Wigman’s dances, and that -will be told in its proper place.</p> - -<p>After the tumult and the shouting had died that opening night at the -Forty-fourth Street Theatre, I took Wigman to supper with some friends. -As we left the theatre together, Wigman was still in her trance; but, as -the food was served, she came out of it with glistening eyes and a -rapid-fire sort of highly literate chatter, in the manner of one sliding -back to earth from the upper world.</p> - -<p>The party over and Wigman back in her hotel, I sat up to await the press -notices. They were splendid. No one dared describe her “meaning,” but -all were agreed that here was a dynamic force in dance that drove home -her “message.” The notice I awaited most eagerly was that of the <i>New -York Times</i>. The first City Edition did not carry it, something which I -attributed to the lateness of the final curtain. I waited for the Late -City Edition. Still not a line about Wigman. I simply could not -understand.</p> - -<p>For years I had struggled to have the dance treated with respect by the -press. Through the Pavlova days I talked and tried to convert editors to -a realization of its importance. Any readers who are interested have -only to turn up the files of their local newspapers and read the -“reviews” of the period of the Pavlova and Diaghileff companies to find -that ballet, in most cases, was “covered” by disgruntled music critics, -who had been assigned, in many cases obviously against their wills, to -review. You would find that the average music critic either overtly -disliked ballet and had said so, or else treated it flippantly.</p> - -<p>At the time of Wigman’s arrival in America, the ice had been broken, as -I have said, by the appointment of John Martin at the head of a -full-time dance department at the <i>New York Times</i>. Mary<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_44">{44}</a></span> Watkins, -eager, enthusiastic, informed, was fulfilling a like function on the -<i>New York Herald-Tribune</i>. Thus dance criticism was on its way to -becoming professional; and the men and women of knowledge and taste and -discernment who criticize dance today, I cannot criticize. For I have -respect for the professional.</p> - -<p>The <i>New York Times</i> review of Wigman’s opening performance did not -appear. Since John Martin had urged me to bring Wigman to America, it -was the more baffling. Prior to Martin’s engagement by the <i>New York -Times</i>, that remarkable and beloved figure, William (“Bill”) Chase, for -so many years the editor of the music department of the <i>Times</i> and -formerly the music critic of the <i>Sun</i>, and to the end of his life my -very good friend, had “reported” the dance. Since he insisted he knew -nothing about it, he never attempted to criticize it. I had frequently -suggested to “Bill” that the <i>Times</i> should have a qualified person at -the head of a <i>bona fide</i> dance department. Eventually John Martin was -engaged, and I am happy to have been able to play a part in the -beginnings of the change on the part of the American press.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned that the change was gradual, for Martin’s articles at -first were unsigned and had no by-line. In the early days, Martin merely -reported on dance events. To be sure, at that time, there was little -enough to report. Then Leonide Massine was brought to the Roxy Theatre -by the late Samuel Rothapfel to stage weekly presentations of ballet; -and then there was something about which to write. Since then John -Martin has helped materially to spread the gospel of ballet and dance.</p> - -<p>It was at approximately the Massine-Roxy stage of the dance criticism -development that I searched the <i>Times</i> for the Wigman notice. Most of -the newspapers carried rave reviews, and because they did, I was the -more mystified, since in the <i>Times</i> there was not so much as a mention -even that the event had taken place. However, out-of-town friends, -including the late Richard Copley, well-known concert manager, -telephoned me from New Jersey to congratulate me on the glowing review -they had read in the Suburban Edition, and read it to me over the -telephone. There were dozens of other calls from suburban communities to -the same effect.</p> - -<p>I called the editorial department of the <i>Times</i> to enquire about its -omission from the New York City edition. There was some delay, but -eventually I was informed that it would seem that the night city editor -had read John Martin’s story in the Suburban Edition,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_45">{45}</a></span> saw that it -carried no by-line, no signature; read its glowing and enthusiastic -account of the Wigman <i>première</i>; and because it was so fulsome in its -enthusiasm, assumed it was merely a piece of press-agent’s ballyhoo, and -forthwith pulled it out of all other editions.</p> - -<p>Armed with this information, I proceeded to bombard the <i>Times</i> with -protests. One of these was directly to the head of the editorial -department, whom I asked to reprint the notice that had been dropped. I -was rather summarily told I was not to try to dictate to the <i>Times</i> -what it should print. By now utterly exasperated, I got hold of my -friend “Bill” Chase, who drily counselled me to “keep my shirt on.” -Chase immediately went on a tour of investigation. He called me back to -tell me that the Board of Editors at their daily meeting had gone into -the matter but were unwilling to print the notice I had asked, since -they had been “scooped” by the other newspapers and it was, therefore, -no longer news: but, they had decided that, in the future, Martin would -have a by-line. Then Chase added, with that wry New England humour of -his for which he was famous, that, with the possession of a by-line, no -editor would dare “kill” a review. It might, of course, be cut for -space, but never “killed.”</p> - -<p>The next Sunday the readers of the <i>New York Times</i> read John Martin’s -notice of Mary Wigman’s first performance, and it was uncut. But it was -a paid advertisement, bearing, in bold-faced type, the heading: “<i>THE -NEWS THAT’S FIT TO REPRINT</i>.”</p> - -<p>As a result of the New York <i>première</i>, the “pencilled” tour was -“inked,” and I traveled most of the tour with the Priestess. Newspaper -men continued to demand to know the “meaning” of her dances. Since -Wigman, most literate of dancers, refused any explanation, I made up my -own. I told a reporter that Wigman was continuing and developing the -work of Isadora Duncan. The reporter wrote his story. It was printed. -Wigman read it without comment. From then on, however, Wigman’s reply to -all queries on the subject was: “Where Isadora Duncan stopped, there I -began.”</p> - -<p>The quickly “inked” tour was a success beyond any anticipations I had -had, and a second tour was booked and played with equal success. The -mistake I made was when I brought her back for a third season, and with -a group of her disciples. America would accept one Wigman; but twenty -husky, bulky Teutonic Amazons in bathing suits with skirts were more -than our public could take.</p> - -<p>Moreover, the group was not typical of the Wigman “schule” at<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_46">{46}</a></span> anything -like its best. As a matter of fact, it was a long way from the Teutonic -Priestess’s highest standards.</p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>It was after the war. Mrs. Hurok and I were paying our first post-war -visit to Switzerland, and stopped off at Zurich. My right-hand bower, -Mae Frohman, had come to Zurich to join us. We learned that Wigman was -there as well, giving master-classes in association with Harald -Kreutzberg. Our initial efforts to find her were not successful.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hurok, Miss Frohman and I were at dinner. We were unaware that -another diner in the same restaurant was Mary Wigman. It was Miss -Frohman who recognized her as she was leaving the room. Wigman had -changed. Time had taken its inevitable toll. The meeting was a touching -one. We all foregathered in the lounge for a talk. Things were not easy -for her; nor was conversation exactly smooth. Her Dresden “<i>schule</i>” had -been commandeered by the Nazis. She was now living in the Russian sector -of Germany. It had been very difficult for her to obtain permission from -the Russian authorities to come to Zurich for her master-classes. She -was obliged to return within a fixed period. She preferred not to talk -about the war. Conversation, as I have said, was not easy. But there are -things which do not require saying. My sympathies were aroused. The -great, strong personality could never be quite erased, nor could the -fine mind be utterly stultified.</p> - -<p>I watched and remembered a great lady and a goodly artist. It is -gratifying to me to know that she is now resident in the American zone -of Berlin, and able to continue her classes.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_47">{47}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_4">4.</a> Sextette</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="r"> -<i>A. A SPANISH GYPSY</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">S</span><b>UCH</b> was the influence of The Swan on my approach to dance that, -although she was no longer in our midst, I found myself being guided -subconsciously by her direction. There were arrangements for a tour of -Pavlova and a small company, for the season 1931-1932, not under my -management. Death liquidated these arrangements. Had the tour been made, -Pavlova was to have numbered among her company the famous Spanish gypsy -dancer of the 1930’s, Vicente Escudero, one of the greatest Iberian -dancers of all time.</p> - -<p>Pavlova had championed Duncan and Wigman. I had brought them. I -determined to bring Escudero to help round out the catholicity of my -dance presentations. Spanish dancing had always intrigued me, and I had -a soft spot for gypsies of all nationalities.</p> - -<p>Escudero, who had been the partner of the ineffable Argentina, had -earned a reputation which, to understate, bordered on the picturesque. -Small, wiry, dark-skinned, with an aquiline nose, he wore his kinky, -glossy black hair long to cover a lack-lustre bald spot. He, like most -Spanish gypsies, claimed descent from the Moors, and there was about him -more of the Arab than the Indian. As I watched him I could understand -how he must have borne within him the stigma of the treatment Spain had -meted out to his people;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_48">{48}</a></span> for it was not until the nineteenth century -that the gypsies in Spain had any freedom at all. Until then, they were -pariahs, hounded by the people, hounded by the law. Only within the last -fifty-or-so years has the Spanish gypsy come into his own with the -universal acknowledgment of being a creative artist, the originator of a -highly individual and beautiful art.</p> - -<p>Escudero was a Granada gypsy, a “<i>gitano</i>” from the white caves hollowed -out in the Sacred Mountain. I point this out in order to distinguish him -from his Sevillian cousins, the “<i>flamenco</i>.” His repertoire ranged -through the <i>Zapateado</i>, the <i>Soleares</i>, the <i>Alegrias</i>, the <i>Bulerias</i>, -the <i>Tango</i>, the <i>Zamba</i>. His special triumph was the <i>Farruca</i>.</p> - -<p>It was on the 17th January, 1932, that I introduced Vicente Escudero to -New York audiences at the 46th Street Theatre, where Wigman had had her -triumph. A number of New York performances were given, followed by a -brief tour, which, in turn, was succeeded by a longer coast-to-coast -tour the following year. His company consisted of four besides himself: -a pianist, a guitarist; the fiery, shrewish Carmita, his favorite; and -the shy, gentle-voiced Carmela.</p> - -<p>But it was Escudero’s sinister, communicative personality that drew and -held audiences. His gypsy arrogance shone in his eyes, in the audacious -tilt of his flat-brimmed hat, in his complete assurance; above all it -stood out in his strutting masculinity. Eschewing castanets, for gypsy -men consider their use effeminate, he moved sinuously but majestically, -with the clean heel rhythm and crackling fingers that marked him as the -outstanding gypsy dancer of his day and, quite possibly, of all time. -For accompaniment there was no symphony orchestra, only the hoarse -syncopation of a single guitar. Through half-parted lips shone the -gleaming ivory of small, perfectly matched teeth.</p> - -<p>For two successful seasons I toured Escudero across America, spreading a -new and thrilling concept of the dance of Spain to excited audiences, -audiences that reached a tremendous crescendo of fervor at the climax of -his <i>Farruca</i>. No theatrical <i>Farruca</i> this, but a feline, animal dance -straight from the ancient Spanish gypsy camp.</p> - -<p>I had been forewarned to be on my guard. However, though his arrival in -America had been preceded by tall tales of his completely unmanageable -nature, Escudero proved to be one of the simplest,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_49">{49}</a></span> most tractable -artists I ever have handled. There was on his part an utter freedom from -the all too usual fits of “temperament,” a complete absence of the -hysterics sometimes indulged in—and all too often—by artists of lesser -talents. I happen to know, from other sources than Escudero, that he -took a dim view of American food, hotels, and the railway train -accommodations in the remoter parts of this great land. He never -complained to me. Escudero had his troubles with Carmita and Carmela, as -they vied with each other for position and his favors. But these -troubles never were brought to my official attention. Like the head of a -gypsy camp, he was the master. He ruled his little troupe and -distributed both favors and discipline.</p> - -<p>In 1935, Escudero made his last American appearance, when I presented -the Continental Revue at the Little Theatre, now the New York Times -Hall. Among those appearing with Escudero in this typical European -entertainment were the French <i>chanteuse</i>, Lucienne Boyer, Mrs. Hurok, -Lydia Chaliapine, Rafael, together with that comic genius, Nikita -Balieff, as master of ceremonies.</p> - -<p>Other and younger dancers of Spain continue to spread the gospel of the -Iberian dance. I venture to believe that, highly talented though many of -them are, I may say with incontrovertible truth, there has been only one -Escudero.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>B. A SWISS COMEDIAN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>In 1931, a slight, short Swiss girl named Trudi Schoop with the dual -talents of a dancer and a comedienne—a combination not too -common—organized a company in her native Switzerland. She named it the -Trudi Schoop Comic Ballet.</p> - -<p>The Paris <i>Archives Internationales de la Danse</i>, formed in 1931 by Rolf -de Maré, the Swedish dance patron who was responsible for the Swedish -Ballet in the early ’twenties, in 1932 sponsored the first International -Choreographic Competition in Paris. The prize-winning work in this -initial competition was won by Kurt Joos for his now famous <i>The Green -Table</i>. The second prize went to this hitherto almost unknown Trudi -Schoop, for her comic creation, <i>Fridolin</i>.</p> - -<p>In 1936, I brought her with her company for their first tour. Here again -was a fresh and new form of dance entertainment. Tiny, with a shock of -boyishly cut blonde hair, Trudi Schoop had the body of a young lad, and -a schoolboy’s face alternating impishness<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_50">{50}</a></span> with the benign innocence of -the lad caught with sticky fingers and mouth streaked with jam.</p> - -<p>Her repertoire consisted of theatre pieces rather than ballets in the -accepted sense of the term. Trudi herself was a clown in the sense -Charles Chaplin is a clown. Her range was tremendous. With a company -trained by her in her own medium of gentle satire, she was an immediate -success. Her productions had no décor, and there was a minimum of -costume. But there was a maximum of effective mime, of wit, of satire. -Her brother, Paul Schoop, was her composer, conductor, accompanist.</p> - -<p>Trudi Schoop’s outstanding success was the prize-winning work, -<i>Fridolin</i>. Schoop was Fridolin; Fridolin was Schoop. Fridolin was an -innocent boy in a black Sunday suit and hat who stumbled and bumbled -through a world not necessarily the best of all possible, wringing peals -of laughter out of one catastrophe after another.</p> - -<p>Other almost equally happy and successful works in her repertoire -included <i>Hurray for Love</i>; <i>The Blonde Marie</i>, the tale of a servant -girl who eventually becomes an operatic diva; and <i>Want Ads</i>, giving the -background behind those particularly humorous items that still appear -regularly in the “Agony Column” of <i>The Times</i> (London); you know, the -sort of announcement that reads: “Honourable Lady (middle fifties) seeks -acquaintance: object matrimony.”</p> - -<p>The critical fraternity dubbed her the “funniest girl in the world”; the -public adored her, and theatre folk made her their darling. Prior to the -outbreak of the war, I sent Trudi and her Swiss Comedians across -America. When, at last, war broke in all its fury, Schoop retired to her -native Switzerland and disbanded her company. She did not reassemble it -until 1946; and in 1947 I brought them over again for a long tour of the -United States and Canada. On this most recent of her tours, in addition -to her familiar repertoire, we made a departure by presenting an -evening-long work, in three acts, called <i>Barbara</i>. This was, so far as -I know, the first full-length work to be presented in dance form in many -cities and towns of the North American continent. Full length, of -course, in the sense that one work occupied a full evening for the -telling of its story. This is another form of dance pioneering in which -I am happy to have played a part.</p> - -<p>Today Trudi Schoop, who has retired from the stage, lives with her -sister in Hollywood.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_51">{51}</a></span></p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>C. A HINDU DEITY</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Back in 1924, in London, I had watched a young Hindu dancer with Pavlova -in her ballet, <i>Hindu Wedding</i>. I was struck by the quality of his -movement and by the simple beauty of the dance of India.</p> - -<p>His name was Uday Shan-Kar. From Pavlova I learned that he was the son -of a Hindu producer of plays, that he had been trained by his father, -and had worked so successfully in collaboration with him in the -production of native Hindu mimed dramas that Pavlova had persuaded -Shan-Kar to return to London to assist her in the production of an -Indian ballet she had in mind, based on the Radna-Krishna legend. -Pavlova succeeded in persuading him to dance in the work as well.</p> - -<p>Later I saw him at the Paris Colonial Exposition, where, with his -company which he had organized in India, he made a tremendous -impression, subsequently achieving equal triumphs in England, -Austria-Hungary, Germany and Switzerland. At the Paris Exposition I saw -long Hindu dramas, running for hours, beautifully and sumptuously -produced, but played with the greatest leisure. Since I am committed to -candor in this account of my life in the dance, I must admit that I saw -only parts of these danced dramas, took them in relays, for I must -confess mine is a nature that cannot remain immobile for long stretches -at a time before a theatre form as unfamiliar as the Indian was to me -then.</p> - -<p>Gradually I came to know it, and I realized that in India formal mime -and dance are much more a part of the life of the people than they are -with us. With the Indian, dance is not only an entertainment, but a -highly stylised stage art; it plays an important part in religious -ritual; it is a genuinely communal experience.</p> - -<p>As night after night I watched parts of these symbolic dance dramas of -Hindu mythology, fascinated by them, I searched for a formula whereby -they might be made palatable and understandable to American audiences. I -was certain that, as they were being danced in Paris, to music strange -and unfamiliar to Western ears, going on for hours on end, the American -public was not ready for them, and would not accept them.</p> - -<p>I put the matter straight to Shan-Kar. I told him I wanted to bring him -and his art to America. He told me he wanted to come. Possessed of a -fine scholarship, a magnificent three-fold talent as<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_52">{52}</a></span> producer, -choreographer, and dancer-musician, he also possessed to a remarkable -degree a sense of theatre showmanship and an intuition that enabled him -to grasp and quickly understand the space and time limitations of the -non-oriental theatre.</p> - -<p>Shan-Kar’s association with Pavlova, together with his own fine -intelligence, made his transition from the dance theatre of the Orient -to an adaptation of it acceptable to the West a comparatively simple -task for him.</p> - -<p>His success in America exceeded my most optimistic predictions. Until -the arrival of Shan-Kar, America had not been exposed to very much of -the dance of India. Twenty years before, the English woman known as -Roshanara had had a vogue in esoteric circles with her adaptations of -the dances of India and the East. On the other hand, the male dancing of -India was virtually unknown. As presented by Shan-Kar, this was revealed -in an expressive mime, with an emphasis on the enigmatic face, the flat -hand, using the upper part of the body as the chief medium of -expression, together with the unique use of the neck and shoulders, not -only for expression, but for accentuation of rhythm. New, also, to our -audiences were the spread knees, a type of movement exclusive to the -male Indian dancer.</p> - -<p>Here was an art and an artist that seemingly had none of the -conventional elements of a popular success. About him and his -presentations there was nothing spectacular, nothing stunning, nothing -exciting. Colour was there, to be sure; but the dancing and the general -tone of the entertainment was all of a piece, on a single level, -soothing, and with that elusive, almost indefinable quality: the -serenity of the East.</p> - -<p>Our associations, save for a brief period of mistrust on my part, have -always been pleasant. In addition to the original tour of 1932, I -brought him back in the season 1936-1937, and again in 1938-1939. The -war, of course, intervened, and I was unable to bring him again until -the season 1949-1950.</p> - -<p>At the outbreak of the war, through the benefaction of the Elmhirst -Foundation of Dartington Hall, England, an activity organized by the -former Dorothy Straight, Shan-Kar was enabled to found a school for the -dance and a center for research into Hindu lore, which he set up in -Benares. One outcome of this research center was the production of a -motion picture film dealing with this lore.</p> - -<p>After seeing many of the Eastern dances and dancers who have been -brought to Western Europe and the United States, I am con<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_53">{53}</a></span>vinced Uday -Shan-Kar is still the outstanding exponent. I hope to bring him again -for further tours, for I feel the more the American people are exposed -to his performances, the better we shall understand the fine and -delicate art of the East, and the East itself.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>D. A SPANISH LADY</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Although my taste for the dances of Spain had been whetted by my -association with Escudero, I had long wished to present to America the -artist whom I knew was the finest exponent of the feminine dance of the -Iberian peninsula. The task was by no means an easy one, for her first -American venture had been a fiasco. The lady from Spain was anything but -eager to risk another North American venture.</p> - -<p>Her name was Encarnacion Lopez. But it was as Argentinita that she was -known to and loved by all lovers of the dance of Spain, and recognized -by them as its outstanding interpreter of our time. Her story will bear -re-telling. My enthusiasm, my utmost admiration for the Spanish dance, -and for the great art of Argentinita is something that is not easy for -me to express. Diaghileff is known to have said with that unequivocation -for which he was noted: “There are two schools of dancing: the Classic -Ballet, which is the foundation of all ballet; and the Spanish school.”</p> - -<p>I would have put it differently by saying that Classic Ballet and the -Spanish school are the two types of dancing closest to my heart.</p> - -<p>My first view of Argentinita was at New York’s Majestic Theatre, in -1931, when she made her American <i>début</i> in Lew Leslie’s ill-fated -<i>International Revue</i>. This performance, coincidentally enough, also -brought forth for his first American appearance, the British dancer, -Anton Dolin, who later also came under my management and who, like -Argentinita, was to become a close personal friend. For Dolin, the -opening night of the <i>International Revue</i> was certainly no very -conspicuous beginning; for Argentinita, however, it was definitely a sad -one. This charming, quiet-voiced lady of Spain knew that she was a great -artist. Thrust into the hurly-burly of an ineptly produced Broadway -revue, where all was shouting and screaming, Argentinita continued her -quiet way and, artist that she was, avoided shouting and screaming her -demands.</p> - -<p>I was present at the opening performance. Although she was outwardly -calm, collected, restrained, I could sense the ordeal through which -Argentinita was going. In order to insure proper<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_54">{54}</a></span> rhythmic support, she -had brought her own orchestra conductor from Spain. This gentleman was -able to speak little, if any, English. From where I sat I could see the -musicians poring over their parts and could hear them commenting to each -other about the music. Obviously the parts were in bad order and, -equally obviously, there had been little or no rehearsal; and, moreover, -it appeared the music was difficult to read at short notice.</p> - -<p>It was one of those strange ironies of fate that ruined something that, -properly handled, should and would have been a triumph. Yet it was not -only the orchestra and the music that were at fault. Argentinita herself -was shockingly presented, if she can honestly be said to have been -presented at all. She made her entrance as a Spanish peasant, in a -Spanish peasant costume which, though correct in every detail, was -devoid of any effect of what the average audience thinks is Spanish. She -was asked to dance in a peasant scene against a fantastic set purporting -to be Spanish, surrounded by a bevy of Broadway showgirls in marvellous -exotic costumes, also purporting to be Iberian, with trains yards in -length, which were no more authentically Spanish, or meant to be, than -were those of the tango danced by that well-known ball-room dancing team -of Moss and Fontana, who came on later in the same scene.</p> - -<p>Under such circumstances, success for Argentinita was out of the -question. So bitter was her disappointment that she left the cast and -the company two weeks after the opening. Later she gave a Sunday night -recital in her own repertoire, and although I set to work immediately to -persuade her that there was an audience for her in America, a great, -enthusiastic audience, such were her doubts that it took me six years to -do it. I knew she was a born star, for I recognized, shining in the -tawdry setting of this revue, a vivacious theatre personality.</p> - -<p>When Argentinita finally returned to America, in 1938, under my -management, and made her appearance on 13th November of that year, at -the Majestic Theatre, on the same stage where, seven years before, she -had so utterly and tragically failed, this time to enthusiastic cheers -and a highly approving press, she admitted I had been correct in my -judgment and in my insistence that she return.</p> - -<p>There is little point in recounting at this time her subsequent triumphs -all over America, for her hold on the public increased with each -appearance, and she is all too close to the memories of con<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_55">{55}</a></span>temporary -dance lovers. I have said that Argentinita was a great artist. That will -bear repeating over and over again. Every gesture she made was feminine -and beautiful and, to my mind, she portrayed everything that was lovely -and most desirable. While her castanets may not actually have sung, they -spoke of many lovely things. Argentinita was a symbol of the womanhood -of Spain, warm, rich-blooded, wholesome, and I always felt certain there -were not enough hats in the world, least of all in Spain, to throw at -her feet to pay her the homage that was her due.</p> - -<p>Argentinita was born of Spanish parents in Buenos Aires, in 1898, and -taken back to Spain by them when she was four years old. At that early -age she commenced her training in the Spanish dance in all its varied -forms and styles, for she was equally at home in the Spanish Classic -dance as she was in the Gypsy or Flamenco dances. Those who saw the poem -she could make from <i>las Soleares</i> of Andulasia, the basic rhythm of all -Spanish gypsy dances, know how she gave them the magic of a magic land; -or the gay <i>Alegrias</i>, performed in the sinuous manner, rich with -contrasts of slow, soft, and energetic movements, with the -characteristic stamping, stomping, sole-tapping, clapping, and -finger-snapping. It was in the <i>Alegrias</i> that Argentinita let her fancy -roam with the slow tempo of the music. The European dance analysts had -noted that here, as also at other times and places, Argentinita danced -to please herself. When the tempo quickened, her mood changed to one of -gaiety and abandon.</p> - -<p>It is a difficult matter for me to pin down my memories of this splendid -artist and her work: <i>las Sevillianas</i>, the national dance of Seville, -danced by all classes and conditions of people, the Queen of Flamenco -dances; or the <i>Bulerias</i>, the most typical of all gypsy dances, light -and gay, the dance of the fiesta.</p> - -<p>Argentinita was not only a dancer. She was an actress of the first -order. She had been a member of Martinez Sierra’s interesting and vital -creative theatre in Madrid. She sang <i>Chansons Populaires</i> in a -curiously throaty, plaintive little voice that could, nevertheless, fill -the largest theatre, despite the cameo-like quality of her art, fill -even the Metropolitan Opera House, with the sound, the color, the -atmosphere of Spain.</p> - -<p>Dancer of Spain that she was, her repertoire was not by any means -confined to the dance and music and life of the peoples of the Iberian -peninsula. She traveled far afield for her material,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_56">{56}</a></span> through the towns -and villages of South and Central America. Yet she was no mere copyist. -Works and ideas she found were transmuted into terms of the theatre by -means of a subtle alchemy. She had a deep knowledge of the entire -Spanish dance tradition, and knew it all, understood its wide historical -and regional changes. In her regional works, from Spanish folk to the -heart of the Andes, she kept the flavor of the original, but -personalized the dances. About them all was a fundamental honesty; -nothing was done for show. There were no heroics; no athleticism. In -addition to the <i>Alegrias</i>, <i>Sevillianas</i>, <i>Fandangos</i>, <i>Jotas</i> of -Spain, the folk dances and folk songs of Brazil, Argentina, Peru, and -the remote places of Latin America and of its Indian villages were hers. -None who ever saw her do it can ever quite obliterate the memory of <i>El -Huayno</i>, implicit as it was with the stark dignity and nobility of the -Inca woman, and called by one critic, “the greatest dance of our -generation.”</p> - -<p>I have a particularly fond memory of <i>On the Route to Seville</i>, in which -a smoothie from the city outwitted and outdid the gypsies in larceny; -and also I remember fondly that nostalgic picture of the Madrid of 1900, -which she called, simply enough, <i>In Old Madrid</i>.</p> - -<p>As our association developed and continued, I was happy to be able to -extend the scope of her work and bring her from the solitary and -non-theatrical dance recital platform on which, one after the other, -from coast to coast, her journeys were a succession of triumphs, to the -stage of the Metropolitan Opera House in New York. Here, with her own -ensemble, chief among which was her exceptionally talented sister, Pilar -Lopez, I placed them as guests with one ballet company or another—with -Leonide Massine in Manuel de Falla’s <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i> and in -<i>Capriccio Espangnol</i>, by Rimsky-Korsakoff, on the choreography of which -she collaborated with Massine.</p> - -<p>In addition to these theatre adaptations of the dances of Spain, she -danced in her own dances, both solo and with Pilar Lopez. She trained -and developed excellent men, notably José Greco and Manolo Vargas. I am -especially happy in having been instrumental in bringing to the stage -two of her most interesting theatrical creations. One was the ballet she -staged to de Falla’s <i>El Amor Brujo</i>, which I produced for her. The -other was the Garcia Lorca <i>El Café de Chinitas</i>. Argentinita had been a -devoted friend of the martyred Loyalist poet, and to bring his work to -the American stage was a project close to her heart and a real labor of -love. Argentinita belonged to a close<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_57">{57}</a></span> little circle of scholars, poets, -and composers, which included Martinez Sierra, Jacinto Benavente, and -the extraordinarily brilliant, genius-touched Garcia Lorca.</p> - -<p>The production of <i>El Café de Chinitas</i> was made possible during a -Spanish festival I gave, one spring, at the Metropolitan Opera House. -For this festival I engaged José Iturbi to conduct a large orchestra -composed of members of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. Argentinita -had succeeded in interesting the Marquis de Cuevas in the project. For -<i>El Café de Chinitas</i> the Marquis commissioned settings and costumes -from Salvador Dali. The result was one of the most effective and best -considered works for the theatre emanating from Dali’s brush. Dali, like -Argentinita, had been a friend of the martyred patriot-poet-composer. -His profounder emotions touched, Dali designed as effective a setting as -the Metropolitan Opera House has seen. The first of the two scenes was a -tremendously high wall on which hung literally hundreds of guitars, a -“graveyard of guitars,” as Dali phrased it; while the second scene, the -<i>Café de Chinitas</i> itself, revealed the heroic torso of a female dancer -with her arms upstretched in what could be interpreted as an attitude of -the dance, or, if one chose, as a crucifixion. From where the hands held -the castanets there dripped blood, as though the hands had been pierced. -In terms of symbols, this was Dali’s representation of the crucifixion -of his country by hideous civil war. This was Argentinita’s last -production, and one of her happiest creations.</p> - -<p>A victim of cancer, Argentinita died in New York on 24th September, -1945. I was at the hospital at the end, together with my friend and -hers, Anton Dolin. Her doctors had long prescribed complete rest for her -and special care. But her life was the dance, and stop she could not. -Heroically she ignored her illness. If there was one thing about her -more conspicuous than another, it was her tiny, dainty, slippered feet. -No longer will they dart delicately into the lovely positions on the -floor.</p> - -<p>In Argentinita there was never either bitterness or unkindness to any -one. I have seen, at first hand, Argentinita’s encouragement and -unstinted help to others, and to lesser dancers. The success of others, -whether it was the artists in her own programmes, or elsewhere, was a -joy to her; nothing but the best was good enough. Her sister, Pilar -Lopez, who survives her and who today dances with great success in -Europe, carrying on her sister’s work, is a magnifi<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_58">{58}</a></span>cent dancer. When -the two sisters danced together, everything that could be done to make -Pilar shine more brilliantly was done; and that, too, was the work of -Argentinita. Her loyalty to me was something of which I am very proud.</p> - -<p>Above all, it was the dignity and charm of the woman that played a great -part in the superb image of the artist who was known as Argentinita.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>E. A TERPSICHOREAN ANTHROPOLOGIST</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>The mixture of dance and song and anthropology, with a firm accent on -sex, that struck a new note in the dance theatre, hailed from Chicago. -Her name is Katherine Dunham. She is a dynamo of energy; she is elusive; -she is unpredictable. She is a quite superb combination of exoticism and -intellectuality.</p> - -<p>Daughter of a French-Canadian and an American Negro, Katherine was born -in Joliet, Illinois, in 1914. Her theatrical experience has ranged from -art museums to night clubs, from Broadway to London’s West End, to the -<i>Théâtre des Champs Elysées</i> in Paris, to European triumphs. Her early -life was spent and her first dancing was done in Chicago. She flashed -across the American entertainment world comet-like. More recently she -has confined her activities almost exclusively to England and Europe.</p> - -<p>I had no part in her beginnings. By the time I undertook to manage her, -she had assembled her own company of Negro dancers and had oscillated -between the rarefied atmosphere of women’s clubs and concert halls, on -the one hand, to night clubs and road houses, on the other. The -atmosphere of the latter was both smoky and rowdy. Katherine Dunham, I -suspect, is something of a split personality, so far as her art is -concerned. Possessor of a fine mind, it would seem to have been one -frequently in turmoil. On the one side, there is a keen intellectual -side to it, evidenced by both a Bachelor of Philosophy and a Master of -Arts degree from the University of Chicago, two Rosenwald Fellowships, -and a Rockefeller Fellowship. Her Masters degree is in anthropology. -These studies she pursued, as I have said, on the one hand. On the -other, she studied and practiced the dance with an equal fierceness.</p> - -<p>Her intellectual pursuits have been concerned, for the most part, with -anthropological researches into the Negro dance. Her first choreographic -venture was her collaboration with Ruth Page, in Chicago, in <i>La -Guiablesse</i>, a ballet on a Martinique theme, with a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_59">{59}</a></span> score based on -Martinique folk melodies by the American composer, William Grant Still, -a work with an all-Negro cast, seen both at the Century of Progress -Exhibition and the Chicago Opera House, in 1933. Dunham became active in -the Federal Dance Theatre, and its Chicago director. It was when she was -doing the dances for the International Ladies’ Garment Workers Union -depression-time revue, <i>Pins and Needles</i>, that she tried a Sunday dance -concert in New York at the Forty-eighth Street Theatre. So successful -was it that it was repeated every Sunday for three months.</p> - -<p>Turning to the theatre, she added acting and singing to dancing and -choreography, both on the stage and in films, appearing as both actress -and singer in <i>Cabin in the Sky</i>. She intrigued me, both by the quality -of her work, her exoticism, and her loyalty to her little troupe, for -the members of which she felt herself responsible. I first met her while -she was appearing at the Mark Hopkins Hotel, in San Francisco. She was -closing her engagement. She was down and out, trying to keep her group -together. I arranged for an audition and, after seeing her with her -group, undertook to see what could be done. Present with me at this -audition were Agnes de Mille, then in San Francisco rehearsing with the -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo what was to become her first choreographic -triumph, <i>Rodeo</i>, together with Alexandra Danilova and Frederick -Franklin.</p> - -<p>My idea in taking over her management was to try to help her transform -her concert pieces into revue material, suitable not only to the -country’s concert halls, but also to the theatre of Broadway and those -road theatres that were becoming increasingly unoccupied because of the -paucity of productions to keep them open. Certain purely theatrical -elements were added, including some singers, one of them being a Cuban -tenor; and, to supplement her native percussion players, a jazz group, -recruited from veterans of the famous “Dixieland Band.”</p> - -<p>We called the entertainment the <i>Tropical Revue</i>. The <i>Tropical Revue</i> -was an immediate success at the Martin Beck Theatre in New York and, -thanks to some quick work, I was able to secure additional time at the -theatre and to extend the run to six weeks. This set up some sort of -record for an entertainment of the kind. As an entertainment form it -rested somewhere between revue and recital. Miss Dunham herself had -three outstanding numbers. These were her own impressions of what she -called different “hot” styles. These were responsible for some of the -heat that brought on the sizzling<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_60">{60}</a></span> of the scenery to which the critics -referred. The first of her numbers was <i>Bahiana</i>, a limpid and languid -impression of Brazil; then <i>Shore Excursion</i>, a contrasting piece, fast, -hot, tough, and Cuban. The third was <i>Barrelhouse</i>, an old stand-by of -hers, straight out of Chicago’s Jungletown.</p> - -<p><i>Tropical Revue</i>, during its two years under my management, was in an -almost perpetual state of flux. It was revised and revised, and revised -again. As the tours proceeded, Dunham did less and less dancing and more -and more impersonation. But while her “bumps” grew more discreet, there -was no lessening of the heat. Dunham’s choreography was best in -theatricalized West Indian and Latin American folk dances, some of which -approached full-scale ballets. The best of these, in my opinion, was -<i>L’Ag’ya</i>, a three-scened work, Martinique at core, the high light of -which was the “<i>ag’ya</i>,” a kicking dance. Here she was able to put to -excellent use authentic Afro-Caribbean steps, and in the overall -choreographic style, I would not feel it unfair to say that Dunham’s -style had been considerably influenced by the Chicago choreographer and -dancer, Ruth Page, with whom Dunham had collaborated early in her -career.</p> - -<p>It did not take me long to discover the public was more interested in -sizzling scenery than it was in anthropology, at least in the theatre. -Since the <i>Tropical Revue</i> was fairly highly budgeted, it was necessary -for us, in order to attract the public, to emphasize sex over -anthropology. Dunham, with a shrewd eye to publicity, oscillated between -emphasis first on one and then on the other; her fingers were in -everything. In addition to running the company, dancing, singing, -revising, she lectured, carried on an unending correspondence by letter -and by wire, entertained lavishly, and added considerably, I am sure, to -the profits of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company. Columns -were written about her, and fulsome essays, a good deal of which was -balderdash.</p> - -<p>The handling of this tour presented its own special set of problems. Not -the least of these was the constantly recurring one of housing. We have -come a long way in the United States in disposing of Jim Crow; but there -is still a great deal to be done. Hotel accommodations for the artists -of the <i>Tropical Revue</i> were a continual source of worry. One Pacific -Coast city was impossible. When, after days of fruitless searching, our -representative thought he had been able to install them in a neighboring -town, the Chinese owner of the hotel, on learning his guests were not -white, canceled the reservations.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_61">{61}</a></span></p> - -<p>A certain midwestern city was another trouble spot, where, in one of the -city’s leading hostelries, the employees threatened to strike because of -the presence there of some of the principal artists. This was averted by -some quick work on the part of our staff. It should be noted, too, that -these unfortunate difficulties were all in cities north of what we hoped -was the non-existent Mason and Dixon Line.</p> - -<p>Miss Dunham, quite naturally, was disturbed and exercised by this -discrimination. In order to avoid this kind of unpleasantness, I had -tried to restrict the bookings to northern cities. However, it became -necessary to play an engagement in a southern border city. The results -were not happy. At the time of making the booking, I did not realize -that in this border state segregation was practiced in its Municipal -Auditorium.</p> - -<p>The house was sold out on the opening night. Owing to wartime -transportation difficulties, the company was late in arriving. Just -before the delayed curtain’s rise, Miss Dunham requested four seats for -some of her local friends. She was asked by the manager of the -Auditorium if they were colored. Miss Dunham replied that they were; -whereupon the manager offered to place chairs for them in the balcony, -since colored persons were not permitted in the orchestra stalls. Miss -Dunham protested, and objected to her friends being seated other than in -the orchestra. The fact was there were no seats available in the stalls, -since the house was sold out. However, had it not been for the -segregation rule, four extra chairs could have been placed in the boxes.</p> - -<p>The performance was enthusiastically received, with repeated curtain -calls at its close. Miss Dunham responded with a speech. She thanked the -audience for its appreciation and its warm response. Then, smarting -under the accumulated pressures of discrimination throughout the tour, -climaxed by the incident involving her friends, she paused, and added: -“This is good-bye. I shall not appear here again until people like me -can sit with people like you. Good-bye, and God bless you—and you may -need it.”</p> - -<p>While there was no overt hostile demonstration in the theatre, there -were those who felt Miss Dunham’s closing words implied a threat. The -press, ever alert to scent a scandal, demanded a statement about my -attitude on segregation in theatres, and to know if I approved of -artists under my management threatening audiences. It was one of those -rare times when, for some reason, I could not be reached by telephone. -Faced with the necessity of making some<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_62">{62}</a></span> sort of statement, my -representative issued one to the effect that Mr. Hurok deplored and was -unalterably opposed to discrimination of any kind anywhere; but that, as -a law-abiding citizen, however much he deplored such regulations, he was -bound to conform to the laws and regulations obtaining in those -communities and theatres where he was contractually obliged to have his -attractions appear. But I have taken care never again to submit artists -to any possible indignities, if there is any way of avoiding it.</p> - -<p>I shall relate a last example of the sort of difficulties that arose on -this tour and, to my mind, it is the most stupid of them all, if there -can be said to be degrees of stupidity in such matters.</p> - -<p>In addition to the large orchestra of conventional instruments we -carried, Miss Dunham had four Guatemalan percussionists who dramatically -beat out the Caribbean rhythms on a wide assortment of gourds, tam-tams, -and other native drums, both with the orchestra and in several scenes on -the stage.</p> - -<p>It happened in a northern city. The head of the musicians’ union local -demanded to know if there were any “niggers” in our orchestra. My -representative, who feels very strongly about such matters and who -resents the term used by the local union president, replied that he did -not understand the question. All members of the orchestra, he said, were -members of the American Federation of Musicians, and had played as a -unit across the entire country, and such a question had never arisen. -The local union official thereupon tersely informed him the colored -players would not be permitted to play with the other musicians in the -orchestra pit in that city; if they attempted to do so, he would forbid -the white players to play. My representative, refusing to bow to such an -ukase, appealed to the head office of the Musicians’ Union, in -Chicago—only to be informed by them that, however much headquarters -disapproved of and deplored the situation, each union local was -autonomous in its local rulings and there was nothing they could do.</p> - -<p>Now comes the irony of the situation. My representative, on visiting the -theatre, saw that the stage boxes abutted the orchestra pit on the same -level with it “Why not place the percussionists there?” he thought. He -proposed this to the union official, and was informed that this would be -permitted, “so long as there is a railing between the white players and -the black.”</p> - -<p>It was only later, on thumbing through the local telephone directory, my -representative discovered there were two musicians<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_63">{63}</a></span>’ locals there. One -of them was listed with the word “colored” after it, in parenthesis.</p> - -<p>Yes, we still have a long road ahead in the matter of fair employment -practices and equal opportunities for all.</p> - -<p>Having had a satisfying taste of the theatre, Miss Dunham eventually -turned to it as her exclusive medium of expression, and branched out -into a full-fledged theatre piece, with plot and all, called <i>Carib -Song</i>, which, transmuted into <i>Caribbean Rhapsody</i>, proved more -successful on the other side of the Atlantic than it did in the States.</p> - -<p>My association with Katherine Dunham seemed to satisfy, at least for the -moment, my taste for the exotic. I cannot say it added much to my -knowledge of anthropology, but it broadened my experience of human -nature.</p> - -<p>I presented Katherine Dunham and her company in Buenos Aires and -throughout South America during the season 1949-1950 when our -association came to an end. In her artistic career Katherine Dunham has -been greatly aided by the advice and by the practical help, in scenic -and costume design, of her husband, the talented American painter and -designer, John Pratt.</p> - -<p>While the scope of Katherine Dunham’s dancing and choreography may be -limited by her anthropological bias, she has a first-rate quality of -showmanship. She has studied, revived, rearranged for the theatre -primitive dances and creole dances, which are in that borderland that is -somewhere at the meeting point of African and Western culture. -Anthropology aside and for the moment forgotten, she is a striking -entertainer.</p> - -<p class="r"> -F. <i>AN AMERICAN GENIUS</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>It may well be that, considered as an individual, the American Martha -Graham is one of the greatest dance celebrities in the United States. -There are those who contend she is the greatest. She is certainly the -most controversial. There seems to be no middle school of thought -concerning her. One of them bursts forth with an enthusiasm amounting -almost to idolatry. The other shouts its negatives quite as forcibly.</p> - -<p>My first love and my greatest interest is ballet. However, that love and -that interest do not obscure for me all other forms of dance, as my -managerial career shows. Having presented prophets and disciples of -what, for want of a more accurate term, is called the “free<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_64">{64}</a></span>” dance, in -the persons of Isadora Duncan and her “children” and Mary Wigman, I -welcomed the opportunity to present the American High Priestess of the -contemporary dance.</p> - -<p>This product of a long line of New England forbears was a woman past -fifty when she came under my management. Yet she was at the height of -her powers, in the full bloom of the immense artistic accomplishment -that is hers, a dancer of amazing skill, a choreographer of striking -originality, an actress of tremendous power.</p> - -<p>The first and by far the most important prophet of the contemporary -dance, Martha Graham was originally trained in the Ruth St. Denis-Ted -Shawn tradition. A quarter of a century ago, however, she broke away -from that tradition and introduced into her works a quality of social -significance and protest. As I think over her choreographic product, it -seems to me that, in general—and this is a case where I must -generalize—her work has exhibited what may be described as two major -trends. One has been in the direction of fundamental social conflicts; -the other, towards psychological abstraction and a vague mysticism.</p> - -<p>About all her work is an austerity, stark and lean; yet this cold -austerity in her creations is always presented by means of a brilliant -technique and with an intense dramatic power. I made it a point for -years to see as many of her recital programmes as I could, and I was -never sure what I was going to see. Each time there seemed to me to be a -new style and a new technique. She was constantly experimenting and -while, often, the experiments did not quite come off, she always excited -me, if I did not always understand what she was trying to say.</p> - -<p>I have the greatest admiration for Martha Graham and for what she has -done. She has championed the cause of the American composer by having -works commissioned, while she has, at the same time, championed the -cause of free movement and originality in the dance. Yet, so violent, so -distorted, so obscure, and sometimes so oppressive do I find some of her -works that I am baffled. It is these qualities, coupled with the -complete introspection in which her works are steeped, that make it so -extremely difficult to attract the public in sufficient numbers to make -touring worthwhile or New York seasons financially possible without some -sort of subsidy. I shall have something to say, later on in this book, -on this whole question of subsidy of the arts. Meanwhile, Martha Graham -has chosen a lonely road, and the introspectiveness of her work does not -make it<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_65">{65}</a></span> any less so. The more’s the pity, for here is a great artist of -the first rank.</p> - -<p>Martha Graham completed my triptych of modern dancers, commencing with -Isadora Duncan and continuing with Mary Wigman as its center piece. In -many respects, Martha Graham is by far the greatest of the three; yet, -to me, she is lacking in a quality that made the dances of Isadora -Duncan so compelling. It is difficult to define that quality. -Negatively, it may be that it is this very introspection. Perhaps it is -that Martha Graham is no modernist at all.</p> - -<p>Modernism in dance, I feel, has become very provincial, for it would -seem that every one and her sister is a modernist. Isadora was a -modernist. Fokine was a modernist. Mary Wigman was a modernist. Today, -we have Balanchine and Robbins, modernists. Scratch a choreographer, -scrape a dancer ever so lightly, and you will find a modernist. It is -all very, very provincial.</p> - -<p>Much of what is to me the real beauty of the dance—the lyric line, the -unbroken phrase, the sequential pattern of the dance itself—has, in the -name of modernism, been chopped up and broken.</p> - -<p>Martha Graham, of all the practitioners of the “free” dance, troubles me -least in this respect. Many of her works look like ballets. Yet, at the -same time, she disturbs me; never soothes me; and, since I have -dedicated myself in this book to candor, I shall admit I can take my -dance without too much over-intellectualization. Yet, in retrospect, I -find there are few ballets that have so much concentrated excitement as -Martha Graham’s <i>Deaths and Entrances</i>.</p> - -<p>The choreography, the dancing, the art of Martha Graham are greatly -appreciated by a devoted but limited public. The lamentable thing about -it to me is that it so limited. She has chosen the road of the solitary -and lonely experimenter. Martha Graham, of all the dancers I have known, -is, I believe, the most single-purposed, the most fanatical in her -devotion to an idea and an ideal. About her and everything she does is -an extraordinary integrity, a consummate honesty. Generous to a fault, -Martha Graham always has something good to say about the work of others, -and she possesses a keen appreciation of all forms of the dance. The -high position she so indisputably holds has been attained, as I happen -to know, only through great privation and hardship, often in the face of -cruel and harsh ridicule. Her remarkable technique could only have been -acquired at the expense of sheer physical exhaustion. In the history of -the dance her name will ever remain at the head of the pioneers.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_66">{66}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_5">5.</a> Three Ladies of the Maryinsky—And Others</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">U</span><b>P</b> to now I have dealt with those artists of the dance whose forms of -dance expression were either modern, free, or exotic. All had been, at -one time or another, under my management. The rest of this candid avowal -will be devoted to that form of theatrical dance known as ballet. Since -I regard ballet as the most satisfactory and satisfying form of -civilized entertainment, ballet will occupy the major portion of the -book. Nearly two full decades of my career as impresario have been -devoted to it.</p> - -<p>For a long time I have been alternately irritated and bored by an almost -endless stream of gossip about ballet, and by that outpouring of -frequently cheap and sometimes incredible nonsense that has been -published about ballet and its artists. Surprisingly, perhaps, -comparatively little of this has come from press agents; the press -agents have, in the main—exceptions only going to prove the rule, in -this case—been ladies and gentlemen of taste and discretion, and they -have publicized ballet legitimately as the great art it is, and, at the -same time, have given of their talents to help make it the highly -popular art it is.</p> - -<p>But there has been a plethora of tripe in the public prints about -ballet, supplied by hacks, blind hero-worshippers, self-abasing -syco<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_67">{67}</a></span>phants, and producers. The last are quite as vocal as any of the -others. They are not, of course, “producers.” They call themselves -either “managers” or “managing-directors.” I shall have something to -say, later on, about this phase of their work. They talk, give -interviews, often of quite incredible stupidity; and, instead of being -managers, are masters of mismanagement. All are, in one degree or -another, would-be Diaghileffs. They all suffer from a serious disease: a -sort of chronic Diaghileffitis, which is spasmodically acute. If -anything I can say or point out in this book can help, as it were, to -add a third dimension to the rather flat pictures of ballet companies -and ballet personalities, creative, interpretive, executive, that have -been offered to the public, I shall be glad. For ballet is a great art, -and my last thought would be to wish to denigrate, debunk, or disparage -any one.</p> - -<p>While “the whole truth” cannot always be told for reasons that should be -obvious, I shall try to tell “nothing but the truth.”</p> - -<p>The ballet we have today, however far afield it may wander in its -experimentation, in its “novelties,” stems from a profoundly classical -base. That base, emerging from Italy and France, found its full -flowering in the Imperial Theatres of Russia.</p> - -<p>I cannot go on with my story of my experiences with ballet on the -American continent without paying a passing tribute to the Ladies of the -Maryinsky (and some of the Gentlemen, as well), who exemplified the -Russian School of Ballet at its best; many of them are carrying on in -their own schools, and passing on their great knowledge to the youth of -the second half of the twentieth century, in whose hands the future of -ballet lies.</p> - -<p>I should like to do honor to many ladies of the Maryinsky. To do so -would mean an overly long list of names, many of which would mean little -to a generation whose knowledge of dancers does not go back much further -than Danilova. It would mean a considerable portion of the graduating -classes of the Russian Imperial School of the Ballet: that School, -dating from 1738, whose code was monastic, whose discipline was strict, -whose training the finest imaginable. Through this school and from it -came the ladies and gentlemen of the Maryinsky, those figures that gave -ballet its finest flowering on the stages of the Maryinsky Theatre in -Petrograd and the Grand Theatre in Moscow.</p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova, Mathilde Kchessinska, Olga Preobrajenska, Lubov Egorova, -Tamara Karsavina, Lydia Kyasht, Lydia Lopokova.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_68">{68}</a></span> There were men, too: -Michel Fokine, Mikhail Mordkin, Vaslav Nijinsky, Adolph Bolm, Theodore -Kosloff, Alexandre Volinine, Laurent Novikoff. The catalogue would be -too long, if continued. No slight is intended. The turn of the century, -or thereabouts, saw most of the above named in the full flush of their -performing abilities.</p> - -<p>What has become of them? Six of the seven ladies are still very much -alive, each making a valued contribution to ballet today. The mortality -rate among the men has been heavier; only three of the seven men are now -alive; yet these three are actively engaged in that most necessary and -fundamental department of ballet: teaching.</p> - -<p>Because the present has its basic roots in the past, and because the -future must emerge from the present, let me, in honoring those -outstanding representatives of the recent past, pause for a moment to -sketch their achievements and contributions.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>MATHILDE KCHESSINSKA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>In the early twentieth century hierarchy of Russian Ballet, Mathilde -Kchessinska was the undisputed queen, a tsarina whose slightest wish -commanded compliance. She was a symbol of a period.</p> - -<p>Mathilde Kchessinska was born in 1872, the daughter of a famous Polish -character dancer, Felix Kchessinsky. A superb technician, according to -all to whom I have talked about her, and to the historians of the time, -she is credited with having been the first Russian to learn the highly -applauded (by audiences) trick of those dazzling multiple turns called -<i>fouettés</i>, guaranteed to bring the house down and, sometimes today, -even when poorly done. In addition to a supreme technique, she is said -to have been a magnificent actress, both “on” and “off.”</p> - -<p>Hers was an exalted position in Russia. Her personal social life gave -her a power she was able to exercise in high places and a personal -fortune which permitted her to give rein to a waywardness and wilfulness -that did not always coincide with the strict disciplinarian standards of -the Imperial Ballet.</p> - -<p>Although she was able to control the destinies of the Maryinsky Theatre, -to hold undisputed sway there, to have everything her own way, all that -most people today know about her is that she was fond of gambling, that -the Grand Dukes built her a Palace in Petrograd, and that Lenin made -speeches to the mob from its balcony during the Revolution.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_69">{69}</a></span></p> - -<p>More rot has been told and written about her by those with more -imagination than love of accuracy, than about almost any other person -connected with ballet, not excepting Serge Diaghileff. In yarn upon yarn -she has been identified with one sensational escapade and affair after -another. None of these, so far as I know, she has ever troubled to -contradict.</p> - -<p>Mathilde Kchessinska was the first Russian dancer to win supremacy for -the native Russian artist over their Italian guests. An artist in life -as well as on the stage, today, at eighty, the Princess -Krassinska-Romanovska, the morganatic wife of Grand Duke André of -Russia, she still teaches daily at her studio in Paris, contributing to -ballet from the fund of her vast experience and knowledge. Many fine -dancers have emerged from her hands, but perhaps the pupil of whom she -is the proudest is Tatiana Riabouchinska.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>OLGA PREOBRAJENSKA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sharing the rank of <i>ballerina assoluta</i> with Kchessinska at the -Maryinsky Theatre was Olga Preobrajenska. Preobrajenska’s career -paralleled that of the Princess Krassinska-Romanovska; she was born in -1871, and graduated from the Imperial School in the class ahead of the -Princess. Yet, in many respects, they were as unlike as it is possible -for two females to differ.</p> - -<p>Kchessinka was always <i>chic</i>, noted for her striking beauty, expressive -arms and wrists, a beautifully poised head, an indescribably infectious -smile. She was a social queen who used her gifts and her powers for all -they were worth. It was a question in the minds of many whether -Kchessinska’s private life was more important than her professional -career. The gods had not seen fit to smile too graciously on -Preobrajenska in the matter of face and figure. Her tremendous success -in a theatre where, at the time, beauty of form was regarded nearly as -highly as technique, may be said to have been a triumph of mind over -matter. Despite these handicaps or, perhaps, because of them, she -succeeded in working out her own distinctive style and bearing.</p> - -<p>Free from any Court intriguing, Olga Preobrajenska was a serious-minded -and noble person, a figure that reflected her own nobility of mind on -ballet itself. Whereas Kchessinska’s career was, for the most part, a -rose-strewn path, Preobrajenska’s road was rocky. Her climb from a -<i>corps de ballet</i> dancer to the heights was no overnight<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_70">{70}</a></span> journey. It -was one that took a good deal of courage, an exhibition of fortitude -that happily led to a richly deserved victory. Blessed with a dogged -perseverance, a divine thirst for knowledge, coupled with a desire ever -to improve, she forced herself ahead. She danced not only in every -ballet, but in nearly every opera in the repertoire that had dances. In -her quarter of a century on the Imperial stage she appeared more than -seven hundred times. It was close on to midnight when her professional -work was done for the day; then she went to the great teacher, Maestro -Enrico Cecchetti, for a private lesson, which lasted far into the early -hours of the morning. Hers was a life devoted to work. For the social -whirl she had neither time nor interest.</p> - -<p>These qualities, linked with her fine personal courage and gentleness, -undoubtedly account for that unbounded admiration and respect in which -she is held by her colleagues.</p> - -<p>Preobrajenska remained in Russia after the revolution, teaching at the -Soviet State School of Ballet from 1917 through 1921. In 1922, she -relinquished her post, left Russia and settled in Paris. Today, she -maintains one of the world’s most noteworthy ballet schools, still -teaching daily, passing on to the present generation of dancers -something of herself so that, though dancers die, dancing may live.</p> - -<p>It was during her teaching tenure at the Soviet State School of Ballet, -the continuing successor in unbroken line and tradition to the Imperial -Ballet School from the eighteenth century, that a young man named Georgi -Balanchivadze came into her ken. Georgi Balanchivadze is better known -throughout the world of the dance today as George Balanchine. In the -long line of pupils who have passed through Preobrajenska’s famous Paris -school, there is space only to mention two of whom she is very proud: -Irina Baronova and Tamara Toumanova.</p> - -<p>Frequently, I have had great pleasure in attending some of -Preobrajenska’s classes in Paris, and I am proud to know her. It was -during my European visit in the summer of 1950 that I happened to be at -La Scala, Milan, when Preobrajenska was watching a class being given -there by the Austrian ballet-mistress, Margaret Wallman. This was at the -time of the visit to Milan of Galina Ulanova, the greatest lyric -ballerina of the Soviet Union. The meeting of Ulanova and Preobrajenska, -two great figures of Russian ballet, forty-one years apart in age, but -with the great common bond of the classical<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_71">{71}</a></span> dance, each the recipient -of the highest honors a government can pay an artist, was, in its way, -historic.</p> - -<p>I arranged to have photographs taken of the event, a meeting that was -very touching. Ulanova had come to see a class as well. The two great -artists embraced. Ulanova was deeply moved. Their conversation was -general. Unfortunately, there was little time, for the Soviet Consular -officials who accompanied Ulanova were not eager for her to have too -long a conversation.</p> - -<p>At eighty-two, Preobrajenska has no superior as a teacher. At her prime, -she was a dancer of wit and elegance, excelling in mimicry and the -humorous. With her colleagues of that epoch, as with Ulanova, she -nevertheless had one outstanding quality in common: a sound classicism.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>LUBOV EGOROVA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Less exalted in the hierarchy of the Russian Imperial Ballet, since she -never attained the <i>assoluta</i> distinction there, but, nevertheless, a -very important figure in ballet, is Lubov Egorova (Princess -Troubetzkoy).</p> - -<p>Born some nine years later than Preobrajenska and eight later than -Kchessinska, Egorova, who was merely a <i>ballerina</i> at the Maryinsky, was -one of the first great Russian dancers to leave Russia; she was a member -of the exploring group that made a Western European tour during a summer -holiday from the Maryinsky, in 1908—perhaps the first time that Russian -Ballet was seen outside the country.</p> - -<p>In 1917, Egorova left Russia for good and, joining the Diaghileff -Ballet, appeared in London, in 1921, dancing the role of Princess Aurora -in the lavish, if ill-starred, revival of Tchaikowsky’s <i>The Sleeping -Beauty</i>, or, as Diaghileff called his Benois production, <i>The Sleeping -Princess</i>. As a matter of fact, she was one of three Auroras, -alternating the role with two other great ladies of the ballet, Olga -Spessivtseva and Vera Trefilova.</p> - -<p>In 1923, Egorova founded her own school in Paris, and has been teaching -there continuously since that time. Many famous dancers have emerged -from that school, dancers of all nationalities, carrying the gospel to -their own lands.</p> - -<p>The basic method of ballet training has altered little. Since the last -war, there have been some new developments in teaching methods. Although -the individual methods of these three ladies from<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_72">{72}</a></span> the Maryinsky may -have differed in detail, they have all had the same solid base, and from -these schools have come not only the dancers of today, but the teachers -of the future.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>TAMARA KARSAVINA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>The Russian <i>emigré</i> dancers would seem to have distributed themselves -fairly equally between Paris and London, (excluding, of course, those -who have made the States their permanent home). While the three -Maryinsky ladies I have discussed became Parisian fixtures, another trio -made London their abiding place.</p> - -<p>Most important of the London trio was Tamara Karsavina, who combined in -her own person the attributes of a great dancer, a great beauty, a great -actress, a great artist, and a great woman. John van Druten, the noted -playwright, sums her up thus: “I can tell you that Tamara Karsavina was -the greatest actress and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, the -incarnation of Shakespeare’s ‘wightly wanton with a velvet brow, with -two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes,’ and that I wrote sonnets to -her when I was twenty.”</p> - -<p>Born in 1885, the daughter of a famous Russian dancer and teacher, -Platon Karsavin, Karsavina, unlike the Ladies of the Maryinsky who have -made Paris their home, was ready for change: that change in ballet that -is sometimes called the Romantic Revolution. She was receptive to new -ideas, and became identified with Fokine and Diaghileff and their -reforms in ballet style.</p> - -<p>Diaghileff had to have a <i>ballerina</i> for his company, and it soon became -obvious to both Fokine and Diaghileff that Pavlova would not fit into -their conception of things balletic. The modest, unassuming, charming, -gracious, beautiful and enchanting Karsavina took over the <i>ballerina</i> -roles of the Diaghileff Company. It was in 1910 that Karsavina came into -her own with the creation of the title role in <i>The Firebird</i>, and a -revival of <i>Giselle</i>. Her success was tremendous. The shy, modest Tamara -Karsavina became <i>La Karsavina</i>; without the guarantee of her presence -in the cast, Diaghileff was for many years unable to secure a contract -in numerous cities, including London.</p> - -<p>All through her career, a career that brought her unheard of success, -adulation, worship, Karsavina remained a sweet, simple, unspoiled lady.</p> - -<p>She was not only the toast of Europe for her work with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_73">{73}</a></span> Diaghileff -Company, but she returned frequently to the Maryinsky, dashing back and -forth between Petrograd and Western Europe. An aversion to sea travel in -wartime prevented her visiting America with the Diaghileff Company on -either of its American tours. She did, however, make a brief American -concert tour in 1925, partnered by Pierre Vladimiroff. Neither the -conditions nor the circumstances of this visit were to her advantage, -and Americans were thus prevented from seeing Karsavina at anything like -her best.</p> - -<p>Karsavina has painted her own picture more strikingly than anyone else -can; and has painted it in a book that is a splendid work of art. It is -called <i>Theatre Street</i>. Tamara Karsavina’s <i>Theatre Street</i> is a book -and a portrait, a picture of a person and of an era that is, at the same -time, a shining classic of the theatrical dance. But not only does it -tell the story of her own career so strikingly that it would be -presumptuous of me to expand on her career in these pages, but she shows -us pictures of Russian life, of childhood in Russia that take rank with -any ever written.</p> - -<p>After the dissolution of a previous Russian marriage, Karsavina, in -1917, married a British diplomat, Henry Bruce, who died in 1950. Her -son, by this marriage, is an actor and director in the British theatre. -Karsavina herself lives quietly and graciously in London, but by no -means inactively. She is a rock of strength to British ballet, through -her interest and inspiration. A great lady as well as a great artist, it -would give me great pleasure to be able to present her across the -American continent in a lecture tour, in the course of which -illuminating dissertation she would elucidate, as no one I have ever -seen or heard, the important and expressive art of mime.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>LYDIA KYASHT</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Classmate of Karsavina at the Imperial School, and born in the same -year, is Lydia Kyasht, who was the first Russian <i>ballerina</i> to become a -permanent fixture in London.</p> - -<p>Kyasht’s arrival in the British capital dates back to 1908, the year she -became a leading soloist at the Maryinsky Theatre. There were mixed -motives for her emigration to England. There were, it appears, intrigues -of some sort at the Maryinsky; there was also a substantial monetary -offer from the London music hall, the Empire, where, for years, ballet -was juxtaposed with the rough-and-tumble of music hall comedians, and -where Adeline Genée had reigned as queen of English ballet for a decade. -Kyasht’s Russian salary was ap<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_74">{74}</a></span>proximately thirty-five dollars a month. -The London offer was for approximately two hundred dollars a week.</p> - -<p>Her first appearance at the Empire, in Leicester Square, long the home -of such ballet as London had at that time, was under her own name as -Lydia Kyaksht. When the Empire’s manager in dismay inquired: “How <i>can</i> -one pronounce a name like that?” he welcomed the suggestion that the -pronunciation would be made easier for British tongues if the second “k” -were dropped. So it became Kyasht, and Kyasht it has remained.</p> - -<p>Kyasht was the first Russian dancer to win a following in London, and in -her first appearances there she was partnered by Adolph Bolm, later to -be identified with Diaghileff and still later with ballet development in -the United States.</p> - -<p>The Empire ballets were, for the most part, of a very special type of -corn. Kyasht appeared in, among others, a little something called <i>The -Water Nymph</i> and in another something charmingly titled <i>First Love</i>, -with my old friend and Anna Pavlova’s long-time partner, Alexandre -Volinine, as her chief support. There was also a whimsy called <i>The -Reaper’s Dream</i>, in which Kyasht appeared as the “Spirit of the -Wheatsheaf,” seen and pursued in his dream by a reaper, the while the -<i>corps de ballet</i>, costumed as an autumn wheatfield, watched and -wondered.</p> - -<p>Most important, however, was Kyasht’s appearance in the first English -presentation, on 18th May, 1911, of Delibes’ <i>Sylvia</i>. <i>Sylvia</i>, one of -the happiest of French ballets, had had to wait thirty-five years to -reach London, although the music had long been familiar there. Even -then, London saw a version of a full-length, three-act work, which, for -the occasion, had been cut and compressed into a single act. It took -forty-one more years for the uncut, full-length work to be done in -London, with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet production, staged by Frederick -Ashton, at Covent Garden, in the Royal Opera House, on 3rd of September, -1952. The original British Sylvia, Lydia Kyasht, was, by this date, a -member of the teaching staff at the famous Sadler’s Wells School.</p> - -<p>Lydia Kyasht remained at the Empire for five years. At the conclusion of -her long engagement, she sailed for New York to appear as the Blue Bird -in a Shubert Winter Garden show, <i>The Whirl of the World</i>, with Serge -Litavkin as her partner; Litavkin later committed suicide in London, as -the result of an unhappy love affair (not with Lydia Kyasht).<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_75">{75}</a></span></p> - -<p>Kyasht’s American venture brought her neither fame nor glory. In the -first place, a Shubert Winter Garden spectacle, in 1913, was not a -setting for the classical technique of Ballet; then, for better or -worse, Kyasht was stricken ill with typhoid fever, a mischance that -automatically terminated her contract. But before she became ill, still -on the unhappier side, was the Shubertian insistence that Kyasht should -be taught and that she should perfect herself in the 1913 edition of -“swing,” the “Turkey Trot.” Such was the uninformed and uncaring mind of -your average Broadway manager, that he wanted to combine the delicacy of -the “Turkey Trot,” of unhallowed memory, with what he elegantly -characterized as “acrobatic novelties.”</p> - -<p>But Kyasht was saved from this humiliation by the serious fever attack -and returned to London, where she made her permanent home and where, for -the most part, she devoted herself to teaching. As a teacher able to -impart that finish and refinement that is so essential a part of a -dancer’s equipment, she has had a marked success.</p> - -<p>Today, she is, as I have said, active in the teaching of ballet -department at that splendid academy, the Sadler’s Wells School, about -which I shall have something to say later on.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>LYDIA LOPOKOVA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>The third of the Maryinsky ladies to settle in England, to whom I cannot -fail to pay tribute, is Lydia Lopokova.</p> - -<p>Lopokova is the youngest of the three, having been born in 1891. Her -graduation from the Imperial School was so close to the great changes -that took place in Russian ballet, that she had been at the Maryinsky -Theatre only a few months when, as a pupil of Fokine, she was invited to -join the Diaghileff Ballet, at that time at the height of its success in -its second Paris season.</p> - -<p>Writing of Lopokova’s early days at the Imperial School, Karsavina says -in <i>Theatre Street</i>: “Out of the group of small pupils given now into my -care was little Lopokova. The extreme emphasis she put into her -movements was comic to watch in the tiny child with the face of an -earnest cherub. Whether she danced or talked, her whole frame quivered -with excitement; she bubbled all over. Her personality was manifest from -the first, and very lovable.”</p> - -<p>Of her arrival to join the Diaghileff Company in Paris, Karsavina says: -“Young Lopokova danced this season; it was altogether her first season -abroad. As she was stepping out of the railway car<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_76">{76}</a></span>riage, emotion -overcame her. She fainted right away on the piles of luggage. It had -been her dream to be in Paris, she told the alarmed Bakst who rendered -first aid; the lovely sight (of the Gare du Nord) was too much for her. -A mere child, she reminded me again of the tiny earnest pupil when, in -the demure costume of <i>Sylphides</i>, she ecstatically and swiftly ran on -her toes.”</p> - -<p>Lopokova’s rise to high position with the Diaghileff Ballet in England -and Europe was rapid. But she was bored by success. There were new -fields to be conquered, and off she went to New York, in the summer of -1911, to join the first “Russian Ballet” to be seen on Broadway. A -commercial venture hastily rushed into the ill-suited Winter Garden, -with the obvious purpose of getting ahead of the impending Diaghileff -invasion of America, due at a later date. The popular American -vaudeville performer, Gertrude Hoffman, temporarily turned manager, -sparked this “Saison de Ballets Russes.”</p> - -<p>Hoffman, in conjunction with a Broadway management, imported nearly a -hundred dancers, with Lydia Lopokova as the foremost; others included -the brothers Kosloff, Theodore and Alexis, who remained permanently in -the United States; my friend, Alexandre Volinine; and Alexander -Bulgakoff. A word about the 1911 “Saison de Ballets Russes” may not be -amiss. The ethics of the entire venture were, to say the least, open to -question. Among the works presented were <i>Schéhérazade</i>, <i>Cléopâtre</i>, -and <i>Sylphides</i>—all taken without permission from the Diaghileff -repertoire, and with no credit (and certainly no cash) given to Michel -Fokine, their creator. All works were restaged from memory by Theodore -Kosloff, and with interpolations by Gertrude Hoffman. The outstanding -success of the whole affair was Lydia Lopokova.</p> - -<p>When, after an unsuccessful financial tour outside New York, Lopokova -and Volinine left the company, the “Saison de Ballets Russes” fell to -pieces.</p> - -<p>Venturing still farther afield, Lopokova joined Mikhail Mordkin’s -company briefly; then, remaining in America for five years, she toyed -seriously with the legitimate theatre, and made her first appearance as -an actress (in English) with that pioneer group, the Washington Square -Players (from which evolved The Theatre Guild), at the Bandbox Theatre, -in East 57th Street, in New York, and later in a Percy Mackaye piece -called <i>The Antic</i>, under the direction of Harrison Grey Fiske.</p> - -<p>Then the Diaghileff Ballet came to America; came, moreover,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_77">{77}</a></span> badly in -need of Lopokova; came without Karsavina, without any woman star; came -badly crippled. In New York, and free, was Lydia Lopokova. It was Lydia -Lopokova who was the <i>ballerina</i> of the company through the two American -tours. It was Lydia Lopokova who was the company’s bright and shining -individual success.</p> - -<p>She returned to Europe with Diaghileff and was his <i>ballerina</i> from 1917 -to 1919, earning for herself in London a popularity second to none. But, -bored again by success, she was suddenly off again to America. This -time, the venture was even less noteworthy, for it was a Shubert musical -comedy—and a rather dismal failure. “I was a flop,” was Lopokova’s -comment, “and thoroughly deserved it.” In 1921, she returned to -Diaghileff, and danced the Lilac Fairy in his tremendous revival of <i>The -Sleeping Princess</i>. During the following years, up to the Diaghileff -Ballet’s final season, Lopokova was in and out of the company, appearing -as a guest artist in the later days.</p> - -<p>After a short and unhappy marriage with one of Diaghileff’s secretaries -had been dissolved, Lopokova became Mrs. J. Maynard Keynes, the wife of -the brilliant and distinguished English economist, art patron, friend of -ballet and inspirer of the British Arts Council. On Keynes’s elevation -to the peerage, Lopokova, of course, became Lady Keynes.</p> - -<p>Invariably quick in wit, impulsive, possessor of a genuine sense of -humor, Lady Keynes remains eager, keen for experiment, restless, impish, -and still puckish, always ready to lend her enthusiastic support to -ventures and ideas in which she believes.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>MARIE RAMBERT</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>One of the most potent forces in the development of ballet in England is -Marie Rambert. She was a pioneer in British ballet. She still has much -to give.</p> - -<p>Marie Rambert—unlike her London colleagues: Karsavina, Kyasht, and -Lopokova—was not a Maryinsky lady. Born Miriam Rambach, in Poland, she -was a disciple of Emile Jacques Dalcroze, and was recommended to -Diaghileff by her teacher as an instructor in the Dalcroze type of -rhythmic movement. The Russians who made up the Diaghileff Company were -not impressed either by the Dalcroze method or its youthful teacher. -They rebelled against her, taunted her, called her “Rhythmitchika,” and -left her alone. There was one exception, however. That exception was -Vaslav Nijinsky, who was considerably influenced by his studies with -Rambert, an influence<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_78">{78}</a></span> that was made apparent in three of his -choreographic works: <i>Sacre du Printemps</i>, <i>Afternoon of a Faun</i> (this, -incidentally, the first to show the influence), and <i>Jeux</i>.</p> - -<p>Despite the attitude of the Russian dancers, it was her contacts with -the Diaghileff Ballet that aroused Rambert’s interest in ballet. She had -had early dancing lessons in the Russian State School in Warsaw; now she -became a pupil of Enrico Cecchetti. In 1920, she established her own -ballet school in the Notting Hill Gate section of London, and it was not -long after that the Ballet Club, a combination of ballet company with -the school, was founded, an organization that became England’s first -permanent ballet company.</p> - -<p>Rambert’s influence on ballet in England has been widespread. When, -after the death of Diaghileff, the Camargo Society was formed in London, -along with Ninette de Valois, Lydia Lopokova, J. Maynard Keynes, and -Arnold L. Haskell, Rambert was a prime mover.</p> - -<p>In her school and at the Ballet Club, she set herself the task of -developing English dancers for English ballet. From her school have come -very many of the young dancers and, even more important, many of the -young choreographers who are making ballet history today. To mention but -a few: Frederick Ashton, Harold Turner, Antony Tudor, Hugh Laing, Walter -Gore, Frank Staff, William Chappell, among the men; Peggy van Praagh, -Pearl Argyle, Andrée Howard, Diana Could, Sally Gilmour, among the -women.</p> - -<p>Rambert is married to that poet of the English theatre, Ashley Dukes. -Twenty-odd years ago they pooled their individual passions—hers for -building dancers, his for building theatres and class-rooms—and built -and remodelled a hall into a simple, little theatre, which they -christened the Mercury, in Ladbroke Road. Its auditorium is as tiny as -its stage. Two leaps will suffice to cross it. The orchestra consisted -of a single pianist. On occasion a gramophone assisted. Everything had -to be simple. Everything had to be inexpensive. The financial -difficulties were enormous. Here the early masterpieces of Ashton and -Tudor were created. Here great work was done, and ballets brought to -life in collaboration between artists in ferment.</p> - -<p>I cannot do better than to quote the splendid tribute of my friend, -“Freddy” Ashton, when he says: “Hers is a deeply etched character, a -potent bitter-sweet mixture; she can sting the lazy into activity, make -the rigid mobile and energise the most lethargic.... She has the unique -gift of awakening creative ability in artists.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_79">{79}</a></span> Not only myself, but -Andrée Howard, Antony Tudor, Walter Gore and Frank Staff felt our -impulse for choreography strengthen and become irresistible under her -wise and patient guidance. Even those who were not her pupils or -directly in her care—the designers who worked with her, William -Chappell, Sophie Fedorovitch, Nadia Benois, Hugh Stevenson, to name only -a few—all felt the impact of her singular personality.”</p> - -<p>The work Marie Rambert did with the Ballet Club and the Ballet Rambert -in their days at the Mercury Theatre was of incalculable value. The -company continues today but its function is somewhat different. -Originally the Ballet Rambert was a place where young choreographers -could try out their ideas, could make brave and bold experiments. During -my most recent visit to London, in the summer of 1953, I was able to see -some of her more recent work on the larger stage of the Sadler’s Wells -Theatre. I was profoundly impressed. Outstanding among the works I saw -were an unusually fine performance of Fokine’s immortal <i>Les Sylphides</i>, -which has been continuously in her repertoire since 1930; <i>Movimientos</i>, -a work out of the London Ballet Workshop in 1952, with choreography and -music by the young Michael Charnley, with scenery by Douglas Smith and -costumes by Tom Lingwood; Frederick Ashton’s exquisite <i>Les Masques</i>, an -old tale set to a delicate score by Francis Poulenc, with scenery and -costumes by the late and lamented Sophie Fedorovitch; and Walter Gore’s -fine <i>Winter Night</i>, to a Rachmaninoff score, with scenery and costumes -by Kenneth Rowell. There was also an unusually excellent production of -<i>Giselle</i>, which first entered her repertoire in its full-length form in -1946, with Hugh Stevenson settings and costumes.</p> - -<p>While there was a period when Rambert seemed to be less interested in -ballets than in dancers, and the present organization would appear to be -best described as one where young dancers may be tested and proven, yet -Rambert alumnae and alumni are to be found in all the leading British -ballet companies.</p> - -<p>In the Coronation Honours List in 1953, Marie Rambert was awarded the -distinction of Companion of the British Empire.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>MIKHAIL MORDKIN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Although he was under my management for only a brief time, I must, I -feel, make passing reference to Mikhail Mordkin as one of the Russian -<i>emigré</i> artists who have been identified with ballet in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_80">{80}</a></span> America. His -contributions were neither profound nor considerable; but they should be -assessed and evaluated.</p> - -<p>Mordkin, born in Russia, in 1881, was a product of the Moscow School, -and eventually became a leading figure and one-time ballet-master of the -Bolshoi Theatre.</p> - -<p>So far as America is concerned, I sometimes like to think his greatest -contribution was his masculinity. Before he first arrived here in -support of Anna Pavlova in her initial American appearance, the average -native was inclined to take a very dim view indeed of a male dancer. -Mordkin’s athleticism and obvious virility were noted on every side.</p> - -<p>Strange combination of classical dancer, athlete, and clown, Mordkin’s -temperament was such that he experienced difficulty throughout his -career in adjusting himself to conditions and to people. He broke with -the Imperial Ballet; broke with Diaghileff; split with Pavlova. These -make-and-break associations could be extended almost indefinitely.</p> - -<p>For the record, I should mention that, following upon his split with -Pavlova, he had a brief American tour with his own company, calling it -the “All Star Imperial Russian Ballet,” and brought as its <i>ballerina</i>, -the doyenne of Russian <i>ballerinas</i>, Ekaterina Geltzer. Again, in 1928, -he returned to the States, under the management of Simeon Gest, with a -company that included Vera Nemtchinova, Xenia Macletzova, and the -English Hilda Butsova, along with Pierre Vladimiroff.</p> - -<p>Mordkin’s successes in Moscow had been considerable, but outside Russia -he always lagged behind the creative procession, largely, I suspect, -because of a stubborn refusal on Mordkin’s part to face up to the fact -that, although the root of ballet is classicism, styles change, the -world moves forward. Ballet is no exception. Mordkin clung too -tenaciously to the faults of the past, as well as to its virtues.</p> - -<p>From the ballet school he founded in New York has come a number of -first-rate dancing talents. The later Mordkin Ballet, in 1937-1938, and -1938-1939, left scarcely a mark on the American ballet picture. It -lacked many things, not the least of which was a <i>ballerina</i> equal to -the great classical roles. Its policy, if any, was as dated as Mordkin -himself.</p> - -<p>If there was a contribution to ballet in America made by Mordkin, it was -a fortuitous one. Choreographically he composed nothing that will be -remembered. But there was a Mordkin company of sorts,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_81">{81}</a></span> and some of its -members formed the nucleus of what eventually became Ballet Theatre.</p> - -<p>On 15th July, 1944, Mikhail Mordkin died at Millbrook, New Jersey.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>VASLAV NIJINSKY</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Nijinsky has become a literature and a legend. The story of his tragic -life has been told and re-told. His feats as a dancer, his experiments -as a choreographer, became a legend, even while he lived.</p> - -<p>I regret I never knew him. Those who did know him and with whom I have -discussed him, are, for the large part, idolators. That he was a genius -they are all agreed. They insist he could leap higher, could remain -longer in the air—but there is little point in dwelling on the legend. -It is well-known; and legends are the angel’s food on which we thrive.</p> - -<p>Nijinsky’s triumphs came at a time when there were great figures -bursting over the horizon; at a time when there was so little basis for -comparison; at a time when it was extremely difficult for the public to -appraise, because the public had so little basis for comparison.</p> - -<p>How separate fact from fiction? It is difficult, if not quite -impossible. It was the time of the “greatests”: Kubelik, the “greatest” -violinist; Mansfield, the “greatest” actor; Irving, the “greatest” -actor; Modjeska, the “greatest” actress; Bernhardt, the “greatest” -actress; Ellen Terry, the “greatest” actress; Duse, the “greatest” -actress.</p> - -<p>It is such an easy matter when, prompted by the nostalgic urge, to -contemplate longingly a by-gone “Golden Age.” In music, it is equally -simple: Anton Rubinstein, Franz Liszt, de Pachmann, Geraldine Farrar, -Enrico Caruso ... and so it goes. Each was the “greatest.” Nijinsky has -become a part and parcel of the “greatest” legend.</p> - -<p>Jan Kubelik, one of the greatest violinists of his generation, is an -example. When I brought Kubelik for his last American appearance in -1923, I remember a gathering in the foyer of the Brooklyn’s Academy of -Music at one of the concerts he gave there. The younger generation of -violinists were out in force, and a number of them were in earnest -conversation during the interval in the concert.</p> - -<p>Their general opinion was that Kubelik had remained away from America -too long; that he was, in fact, slipping. Sol Elman, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_82">{82}</a></span> father of -Mischa, listened attentively. When the barrage had expended itself, he -spoke.</p> - -<p>“My dear friends,” he said, “Kubelik played the Paganini concerto -tonight as splendidly as ever he did. Today you have a different -standard. You have Elman, Heifetz, and the rest. All of you have -developed and grown in artistry, technique, and, above all, in knowledge -and appreciation. The point is: you know more; not that Kubelik plays -less well.”</p> - -<p>It is all largely a matter of first impressions and their vividness. It -is the first impressions that color our memories and often form the -basis of our judgments. As time passes, I sometimes wonder how reliable -the first impressions may be.</p> - -<p>I am unable to state dogmatically that Nijinsky was the “greatest” -dancer of our time or of all time. On the other hand, there cannot be -the slightest question that he was a very great personality. The quality -of personality is the one that really matters.</p> - -<p>Today there are, I suppose, between five and six hundred first-class -pianists, for example. These pianists are, in many cases, considerably -more than competent. But to find the great personality in these five to -six hundred talents is something quite different.</p> - -<p>The truly great are those who, through something that can only be -described as personality, electrify the public. The public, once -electrified, will come to see them again and again and again. There are, -perhaps, too many good talents. There never can be enough great artists.</p> - -<p>Vaslav Nijinsky was one of the great ones—a great artist, a great -personality. There are those who can argue long and in nostalgic detail -about his technique, its virtues and its defects. Artistry and -personality transcend technique; for mere technique, however flawless, -is not enough.</p> - -<p>It must be borne in mind that Nijinsky’s public career in the Western -World was hardly more than seven years long. The legend of Nijinsky -commenced with his first appearance in Paris in <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>, -in 1912. It may have been started, fostered, and developed by -Diaghileff, continued by Nijinsky’s wife. It is quite possible this is -true; but true or not, it does not affect the validity of the legend.</p> - -<p>The story of Nijinsky’s peculiarly romantic marriage, his subsequent -madness, his alleged partial recovery, his recent death have all been -set down for posterity by his wife. I am by no means an all-out admirer -of these books; and I am not able to accept or agree<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_83">{83}</a></span> with many of the -statements and implications in them. Yet the loyalty and devotion she -exhibited towards him can only be regarded as admirable.</p> - -<p>The merit of her ministrations to the sick man, on the one hand, hardly -condones her literary efforts, on the other. Frequently, I detect a -quality in the books that reveals itself more strongly as the predatory -female than as the protective wife-mother. I cannot accept Romola -Nijinsky’s reiterated portraits of Diaghileff as the avenging monster -any more than I can the following statement in her latest book, <i>The -Last Days of Nijinsky</i>, published in 1952:</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly, the news that Vaslav was recuperating became more and more -known; therefore it was not surprising that one day he received a cable -with an offer from Mr. Hurok, the theatrical impresario, asking him to -come over to New York and appear. My son-in-law, who had just arrived to -spend the week-end with us, advised me to cable back accepting the -offer, for then we automatically could have escaped from Europe and -would have been able to depart at once. But I felt I could not accept a -contract for Vaslav and commit him. There was no question at the time -that Vaslav should appear in public. Nevertheless, I hoped that the -impresario, who was a Russian himself and who had made his name and -fortune in America managing Russian dancers in the past, would have -vision enough and a humanitarian spirit in helping to get the greatest -Russian dancer out of the European inferno. What I did not know at the -time was that there was quite a group of dancers who had got together -and who worked in silence to keep Nijinsky out of the United States and -from public life. Illness had removed the artist with whom they could -not compete. They dreaded his coming back.”</p> - -<p>While the entire paragraph tends to give a distorted picture of the -situation, the last three sentences are as far from the truth as they -possibly can be. The implied charge is almost too stupid to contradict -or refute. Were it not for the stigma it imputes to many fine artists -living in this country, I should ignore it completely. However, the -facts are quite simple. It is by no means an easy matter to bring into -the United States any person in ill health, either physical or mental. -So far as the regulations were concerned, Nijinsky was but another -alien. It was impossible to secure a visa or an entry permit. It was -equally impossible to secure the proper sort of doctors’ certificates -that could have been of material aid in helping secure such papers.</p> - -<p>I have a vivid memory of a meeting of dancers at the St. Regis<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_84">{84}</a></span> Hotel in -New York to discuss what could be done. Anton Dolin was a prime mover in -the plan to give assistance. There was a genuine enthusiasm on the part -of the dancers present. Unfortunately, the economics of the dance are -such that dancers are quite incapable of undertaking long-term financial -commitments. But a substantial number of pledges were offered.</p> - -<p>It certainly was not a question of “quite a group of dancers who had got -together and who worked in silence to keep Nijinsky out of the United -States and from public life.” There was no question or suggestion that -he should appear in public, incidentally. There was only the sheer -inability to get him into the country. If there was any “dread” of “his -coming back,” it could only have been the dread that their former -colleague, ill in mind and body, might be in danger of being exploited -by the romantic author.</p> - -<p>Nijinsky, the legend, will endure as long as ballet, because the legend -has its roots in genius. Legend apart, no one from the Maryinsky stable, -no one in the fairly long history of ballet, as a matter of fact, has -given ballet a more complete service. And it should be remembered that -this service was rendered in a career that actually covered less than a -decade.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>A QUARTET OF IMPERIALISTS</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>There is left for consideration a Russian male quartet, three of them -still living, who, in one degree or another, have made contributions to -ballet in our time, either in the United States or Europe. Their -contributions vary in quality and degree, exactly as the four gentlemen -differ in temperament and approach. I shall first deal briefly with the -three living members of the quartet, two of whom are American citizens -of long standing.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>THEODORE KOSLOFF</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>I commence with one whose contributions to ballet have been the least. I -mention him at all only because, historically speaking, he has been -identified with dance in America a long time. With perhaps a single -notable exception, Theodore Kosloff’s contributions in all forms have -been slight.</p> - -<p>The best has been through teaching, for it is as a teacher that he is -likely to be remembered longest. Spectacular in his teaching<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_85">{85}</a></span> methods as -he is in person, it has been from his school that has come a substantial -number of artists of the dance who have made a distinctive place for -themselves in the dance world of America.</p> - -<p>Outstanding among these are Agnes de Mille, who has made an ineradicable -mark with her highly personal choreographic style, and Nana Gollner, -American <i>ballerina</i> of fine if somewhat uncontrolled talents, the -latter having received almost all her training at Kosloff’s hands and -cane.</p> - -<p>Theodore Kosloff was born in 1883. A pupil of the Moscow rather than the -Petersburg school, he eventually became a minor soloist at the Bolshoi -Theatre in Moscow, appearing in, among others, <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> and -<i>Daughter of Pharaoh</i>. When Diaghileff recruited his company, Kosloff -and his wife, Maria Baldina, were among the Muscovites engaged. Kosloff -was little more than a <i>corps de ballet</i> member with Diaghileff, with an -occasional small solo. But he had a roving and retentive eye.</p> - -<p>When Gertrude Hoffman and Morris Gest decided to jump the Russian Ballet -gun on Broadway, and to present their <i>Saison de Ballets Russes</i> at the -Winter Garden in advance of Diaghileff’s first American visit, it was -Theodore Kosloff who restaged the Fokine works for Hoffman, without so -much as tilt of the hat or a by-your-leave either to the creator or the -owner.</p> - -<p>Remaining in the States after the demise of the venture, Kosloff for a -time appeared in vaudeville with his wife, Baldina, and his younger -brother, Alexis, also a product of the Moscow School. One of these tours -took them to California, where Theodore settled in Hollywood. Here, -almost simultaneously, he opened his school and associated himself with -Cecil B. de Mille as an actor in silent film “epics.” He was equally -successful at both.</p> - -<p>Kosloff’s purely balletic activities thereafter included numerous -movie-house “presentations”—the unlamented spectacles that preceded the -feature film in the silent picture days, in palaces like Grauman’s -Egyptian and Grauman’s Chinese; a brief term as ballet-master of the San -Francisco Opera Ballet; and colossal and pepped-up versions of -<i>Petroushka</i> and <i>Schéhérazade</i>, the former in Los Angeles, the latter -at the Hollywood Bowl.</p> - -<p>Today, at seventy, Kosloff pounds his long staff at classes in the -shadow of the Hollywood hills, directing all his activity at perspiring -and aspiring young Americans, who in increasing numbers are looking -towards the future through the medium of ballet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_86">{86}</a></span></p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>LAURENT NOVIKOFF</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>The three living members of this male quartet were all Muscovites, which -is to say, products of the Imperial School of Moscow and dancers of the -Bolshoi Theatre, rather than products of the Maryinsky. In Russian -ballet this was a sharp distinction and a fine one, with the -Maryinskians inclined to glance down the nose a bit at their Moscow -colleagues. And possibly with reason.</p> - -<p>Laurent Novikoff was born five years later than Theodore Kosloff; he -graduated from the Moscow School an equal number of years later. He -remained at the Bolshoi Theatre for only a year before joining the -Diaghileff Ballet in Paris for an equal length of time. On his return to -Moscow at the close of the Diaghileff season, he became a first dancer -at the Bolshoi, only to leave to become Anna Pavlova’s partner the next -year. As a matter of fact, the three remaining members of the quartet -were all, at one time or another, partners of Pavlova.</p> - -<p>With Pavlova, Novikoff toured the United States in 1913 and in 1914. -Returning once again to Moscow, he staged ballets for opera, and -remained there until the revolution, when he went to London and rejoined -the Diaghileff Company, only to leave and join forces once again with -Pavlova, remaining with her this time for seven years, and eventually -opening a ballet school in London. In 1929, Novikoff accepted an -invitation from the Chicago Civic Opera Company to become its -ballet-master; and later, for a period of five years, he was -ballet-master of the Metropolitan Opera Company.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, Novikoff had a number of distinguished qualities, including -a fine virility, a genuinely romantic manner, imagination and authority. -As a choreographer, he can hardly be classified as a progressive. While -he staged a number of works for Pavlova, including, among others, -<i>Russian Folk Lore</i> and <i>Don Quixote</i>, most of his choreographic work -was with one opera company or another. In nearly all cases, ballet was, -as it still is, merely a poor step-sister in the opera houses and with -the opera companies, often regarded by opera directors merely as a -necessary nuisance, and only on rare occasions is an opera choreographer -ever given his head.</p> - -<p>A charming, cultured, and quite delightful gentleman, Laurent<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_87">{87}</a></span> Novikoff -now lives quietly with his wife Elizabeth in the American middle west.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ALEXANDRE VOLININE</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Alexandre Volinine was Anna Pavlova’s partner for a longer time than any -of the others. Born in 1883, he was a member of the same Moscow Imperial -class as Theodore Kosloff, attained the rank of first dancer at the -Bolshoi Theatre, and remained there for nine years.</p> - -<p>In 1910, he left Russia to become Pavlova’s partner, a position he held -intermittently for many years. Apart from being Pavlova’s chief support, -he made numerous American appearances. He was a member of Gertrude -Hoffman’s <i>Saison Russe</i>, at the Winter Garden, in 1911; and in the same -year supported the great Danish <i>ballerina</i>, Adeline Genée, at the -Metropolitan Opera House, in <i>La Danse</i>, “an authentic record by Mlle. -Genée of Dancing and Dancers between the years 1710 and 1845.”</p> - -<p>Volinine returned to the United States in 1912-1913, when, after the -historical break between Pavlova and Mordkin, the latter formed his -“All-Star Imperial Russian Ballet,” with Ekaterina Geltzer, Julia -Sedova, Lydia Lopokova, and Volinine. This was an ill-starred venture -from the start for no sooner had they opened at the Metropolitan Opera -House than Mordkin and Sedova quarrelled with Geltzer and, so -characteristic of Russian Ballet, the factions, in this case Polish and -English <i>versus</i> Russian, took violent sides. Volinine was on the side -of the former. As a result of the company split, the English-Polish -section went off on a tour across the country with Volinine, who -augmented their tiny salaries by five dollars weekly from his private -purse. After they had worked their way through the Deep South and -arrived at Creole New Orleans, the manager decamped for a time, and a -tremulous curtain descended on the first act of <i>Coppélia</i>, not to rise.</p> - -<p>By one means or another, and with some help from the British Consul in -New Orleans, they managed to return to New York by way of a stuffy -journey in a vile-smelling freighter plying along the coast. By quick -thinking, and even quicker acting, including mass-sitting on the -manager’s doorstep, they forced that individual to arrange for the -passage back to England, which<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_88">{88}</a></span> was accomplished with its share of -excitement; once back in England, Volinine returned to his place as -Pavlova’s first dancer.</p> - -<p>Volinine was the featured dancer with Pavlova in 1916, when I first met -her at the Hippodrome, and often accompanied us to supper. As the years -wore on, I learned to know and admire him.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, Volinine was a supreme technician, and, I believe, one of -the most perfect romantic dancers of his time. In his Paris school today -he is passing on his rare knowledge to the men of today’s generation of -<i>premières danseurs</i>. His teaching, combined with his quite superb -understanding of the scientific principles involved, are of great -service to ballet. Michael Somes, the first dancer of the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet, is among those who go to Volinine’s Paris studio for those -refining corrections obtainable only from a great teacher who has been a -great dancer.</p> - -<p>“Sasha” Volinine has, perhaps, spent as much or more of his professional -life in England, Australia, and other English-speaking countries, as any -Russian dancer. On the other hand, he speaks and understands less -English, perhaps, than any of the others.</p> - -<p>Often in America and London we have gone out to dine, to sup, often with -a group. “Sasha” invariably would be the first to ask the headwaiter or -<i>maître d’hôtel</i> for a copy of the menu. Immediately he would -concentrate on it, poring over it, giving it seemingly careful scrutiny -and study.</p> - -<p>All the others in the party would have ordered, and then, after long -cogitation, “Sasha” would summon the waiter and, pointing to something -in the menu utterly irrelevant, would solemnly demand: “Ham and eggs.”</p> - -<p>I am happy to count “Sasha” Volinine among my old friends, and it is -always a pleasure to foregather with him when I am in Paris.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ADOLPH BOLM</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>If my old friend, Adolph Bolm, were here to read this, he probably would -be the first to object to being classified with this quartet of -“Imperialists.” He would have pointed out to me in his emphatic manner -that by far the greater part of his career had been spent in the United -States, working for ballet in America. He would have insisted that he -neither thought nor acted like an “Imperialist”: that he was a -progressive, not a reactionary; and he would, at considerable length, -have advanced his theory that all “Imperialists<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_89">{89}</a></span>” were reactionaries. He -would have repeated to me that even when he was at the Maryinsky, he was -a rebel and a leader in the revolt against what he felt were the -stultifying influences of its inbred conservatism. This would have gone -on for some time, for Bolm was intelligent, literate, articulate, and -ready to make a speech at the drop of a ballet shoe, or no shoe at all.</p> - -<p>I have placed Bolm in this book among the “Imperialists” because he had -his roots in the Imperial Russian Ballet, where he was conditioned as -child and youth; he was a product of the School in Theatre Street and a -Maryinsky soloist for seven years; he was a contemporary and one-time -colleague of the three other members of this quartet, either in Russia -or with the Diaghileff Ballet Russe.</p> - -<p>Born in St. Petersburg in 1884, the son of the concert-master and -associate conductor of the French operatic theatre, the Mikhailovsky, -Bolm entered the School at ten, was a first-prize graduate in 1904. He -was never a great classical dancer; but he had a first-rate sense of the -theatre, was a brilliant character dancer, a superlative mime.</p> - -<p>Bolm was the first to take Anna Pavlova out of Russia, as manager and -first dancer of a Scandinavian and Central European tour that made -ballet history. He was, I happen to know, largely responsible in -influencing Pavlova temporarily to postpone the idea of a company of her -own and to abandon their own tour, because he believed the future of -Russian Ballet lay with Diaghileff. Although the Nijinsky legend -commences when Nijinsky first leapt through the window of the virginal -bedroom of <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>, in Paris in 1911, it was <i>Prince -Igor</i> and Bolm’s virile, barbaric warrior chieftain that provided the -greater impact and produced the outstanding revelation of male dancing -such as the Western World had not hitherto known.</p> - -<p>Bolm was intimately associated with the Diaghileff invasion of the -United States, when Diaghileff, a displaced and dispirited person -sitting out the war in Switzerland, was invited to bring his company to -America by Otto H. Kahn. But, owing to the war and the disbanding of his -company, it was impossible for Diaghileff to reassemble the original -personnel. It was a grave problem. Neither Nijinsky, Fokine, nor -Karsavina was available. It was then that Bolm took on the tremendous -dual role of first dancer and choreographer, engaging and rehearsing -what was to all intents and purposes a new company in a repertoire of -twenty-odd ballets. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_90">{90}</a></span> Diaghileff American tours were due in no small -degree to Bolm’s efforts in achieving what seemed to be the impossible.</p> - -<p>After the second Diaghileff American tour, during which Bolm was -injured, he remained in New York. Unlike many of his colleagues, his -quick intelligence grasped American ideas and points of view. This was -evidenced throughout his career by his interest in our native subjects, -composers, painters.</p> - -<p>With his own Ballet Intime, his motion picture theatre presentations of -ballet, his Chicago Allied Arts, his tenure with the Chicago Opera -Company, the San Francisco Opera Ballet, his production of <i>Le Coq d’Or</i> -and two productions of <i>Petroushka</i> at the Metropolitan Opera House, he -helped sow the seeds of real ballet appreciation across the country.</p> - -<p>My acquaintance and friendship with Adolph Bolm extended over a long -time. His experimental mind, his eagerness, his enthusiasm, his deep -culture, his capacity for friendship, his hospitality—all these -qualities endeared him to me. If one did not always agree with him (and -I, for one, did not), one could not fail to appreciate and respect his -honesty and sincerity. During a period when Ballet Theatre was under my -management, I was instrumental in placing him as the <i>régisseur general</i> -(general stage director to those unfamiliar with ballet’s term for this -important functionary) of the company, feeling that his discipline, -knowledge, taste, and ability would be helpful to the young company in -maintaining a high performing standard. Unhappily, much of the good he -did and could do was negated by an unfortunate attitude on the part of -some of our younger American dancers, who have little or no respect for -tradition, reputation, or style, and who seem actively to resent -achievement—in an art that has its roots in the past although its -branches stretch out to the future—rather than respect and admire it.</p> - -<p>A striking example of this sort of thing took place when I had been -instrumental, later on, in having Bolm stage a new version of -Stravinsky’s <i>Firebird</i>, for Ballet Theatre, in 1945, with Alicia -Markova and Anton Dolin.</p> - -<p>My last meeting with Bolm took place at the opening performance of the -Sadler’s Wells production of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, in Los Angeles. I -shall not soon forget his genuine enthusiasm and how he embraced Ninette -de Valois as he expressed his happiness that the great full-length -ballets in all their splendor had at last been brought to Los Angeles.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_91">{91}</a></span></p> - -<p>In his later years, Bolm lived on a hilltop in Hollywood; in Hollywood, -but not of it, with Igor Stravinsky and Nicholas Remisoff as two of his -closest and most intimate friends. One night, in the spring of 1951, -Bolm went to sleep and did not wake again in this world.</p> - -<p>His life had been filled with an intense activity, a remarkable -productivity in his chosen field—thirty-five years of it in the United -States, in the triple role of teacher, dancer, choreographer. As I have -intimated before, Bolm’s understanding of the things that are at the -root of the American character was, in my opinion, deeper and more -profound than that of any of his colleagues. His achievements will live -after him.</p> - -<p>My last contacts with Bolm revealed to me a man still vital, still -eager; but a little soured, a shade bitter, because he was conscious the -world was moving on and felt that the ballet was shutting him out.</p> - -<p>Before that bitterness could take too deep a root in the heart and soul -of a gentle artist, a Divine Providence closed his eyes in the sleep -everlasting.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_92">{92}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_6">6.</a> Tristan and Isolde: Michel and Vera Fokine</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span><b>F</b> ever there were two people who seemingly were inseparable, they were -Michel and Vera Fokine. Theirs was a modern love story that could rank -with those of Abélard and Heloïse, Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde. -The romance of the Fokines continued, unabated, till death did them -part.</p> - -<p>The story of Michel Fokine’s revolution in modern ballet has become an -important part of ballet’s history. The casual ballet-goer, to whom one -name sounds very much like another, recognizes the name of Fokine. He -may not realize the full importance of the man, but he has been unable -to escape the knowledge that some of the ballets he knows and loves best -are Fokine works.</p> - -<p>The literature that has grown up around Michel Fokine and his work is -fairly voluminous, as was his due. Yet, for those of today’s generation, -who are prone to forget too easily, it cannot be repeated too often that -had it not been for Michel Fokine, there might not have been any such -thing as modern ballet. For ballet, wherein he worked his necessary and -epoch-making revolution, was in grave danger of becoming moribund and -static, and might well, by this time, have become extinct.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_93">{93}</a></span></p> - -<p>He was a profound admirer of Isadora Duncan, although he denied he had -been influenced by her ideas. Fokine felt Duncan, in her concern for -movement, had brought dancing back to its beginnings. He was filled with -a divine disgust for the routine and the artificial practices of ballet -at the turn of the century. He was termed a heretic when he insisted -that each ballet demands a new technique appropriate to its style, -because he fought against the eternal stereotype.</p> - -<p>Fokine threw in his lot with Diaghileff and his group. With Diaghileff -his greatest masterpieces were created. Both Fokine and Diaghileff were -complicated human beings; both were artists. Problems were never simple -with either of them. There is no reason here to go into the causes for -the rupture between them. That there was a rupture and that it was never -completely healed is regrettable. It was tantamount to a divorce between -the parents of modern ballet. It was, as is so often the case in -divorce, the child that suffered.</p> - -<p>For a time following the break, the Fokines returned to Russia; and -then, in 1918, together with their son Vitale, spent some time in and -out of Finland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Conditions were not ideal -for creation, and nothing was added to the impressive list of Fokine -masterpieces.</p> - -<p>In 1919, Morris Gest was immersed in the production of a gargantuan -musical show destined for the Century Theatre: <i>Aphrodite</i>, based on an -English translation of Pierre Louys’ novel. Gest made Fokine an offer to -come to America to stage a Bacchanal for the work. Fokine accepted. -<i>Aphrodite</i> was not a very good musical, nor was it, as I remember it, a -very exciting Bacchanal; but it was a great success. Fokine himself was -far from happy with it.</p> - -<p>For a number of reasons, the Fokines decided to make New York their -home. They eventually bought a large house, where Riverside Drive joins -Seventy-second Street; converted part of the house into a dancing -studio, and lived in the rest of the house in an atmosphere of nostalgic -gloom, a sort of Chopinesque twilight. Ballet in America was at a very -low ebb when Fokine settled here. There was a magnificent opportunity to -hand for the father of modern ballet, had he but taken it. For some -reason he muffed the big chance. Perhaps he was embittered by a series -of unhappy experiences, not the least of which was the changed political -scene in his beloved Russia, to which he was never, during the rest of -his life, able to make adjustment. He was content, as an artist, for the -most part to rest on his<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_94">{94}</a></span> considerable laurels. There was always -<i>Schéhérazade</i>. More importantly, there was always <i>Sylphides</i>.</p> - -<p>Fokine’s creative life, in the true sense, was something he left behind -in Europe. He never seemed to sense or to try to understand the American -impulse, rhythm, or those things which lie at the root of our native -culture. In the bleak Riverside Drive mansion, he taught rather -half-heartedly at classes, but gave much of his time and energy in -well-paid private lessons to the untalented daughters of the rich.</p> - -<p>From the choreographic point of view, he was satisfied, for the most -part, to reproduce his early masterpieces with inferior organizations, -or to stage lesser pieces for the Hippodrome or the Ziegfeld Follies. -One of the latter will suffice as an example. It was called <i>Frolicking -Gods</i>, a whimsy about a couple of statues of Greek Gods who came to -life, became frightened at a noise, and returned to their marble -immobility. And it may be of interest to note that these goings-on were -all accomplished to, of all things, Tchaikowsky’s <i>Nutcracker Suite</i>. -There was also a pseudo-Aztec affair, devised, so far as tale was -concerned, by Vera Fokine, and called <i>The Thunder Bird</i>. The Aztec -quality was emphasized by the use of a pastiche of music culled from the -assorted works of Tchaikowsky, Glinka, Rimsky-Korsakoff, Balakirev, and -Borodine.</p> - -<p>It was during the winter of 1920, not long after the Fokines, with their -son Vitale, had arrived here, that we came together professionally. I -arranged to present them jointly in a series of programmes at the -Metropolitan Opera House, with Arnold Volpe and his Symphony Orchestra.</p> - -<p>Fokine came with me to see the Metropolitan stage. He arrived at what -might have been a ticklish moment. Fokine was extremely sensitive to -what he called “pirated” versions of his works. There was, of course, no -copyright protection for them, since choreography had no protection -under American copyright law. Fokine was equally certain that he, -Fokine, was the only person who could possibly reproduce his works. As -we entered the Metropolitan, Adolph Bolm was appearing in an -opera-ballet version of Rimsky-Korsakoff’s <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>. The -performance had commenced.</p> - -<p>As I have intimated, after he broke with Diaghileff, Fokine was so -depressed that for some time he could not work at all. Then he received -an invitation from Anna Pavlova to come to Berlin, where she was about -to produce some new ballets. Fokine accepted the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_95">{95}</a></span> invitation, and when -Pavlova asked him to suggest a subject, Fokine proposed a ballet based -on the opera, <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>. Pavlova, however, considered the plot of -the Rimsky-Korsakoff work to be too political, and also felt it unwise -of her to offer a subject burlesquing the Tsar.</p> - -<p>It was not until after Fokine temporarily returned to the Diaghileff -fold that <i>Le Coq d’Or</i> achieved production. Diaghileff agreed with -Fokine on the subject, and Fokine was anxious that it should be mounted -in as modern a manner as possible. The story of the opera, based on -Pushkin’s well-known poem, as adapted to the stage by V. Bielsky, -requires no comment. Fokine’s opera-ballet production was, in its way, -quite unique. There were two casts, which is to say, singers and -dancers. While one character danced and acted, the words in the libretto -were spoken or sung by the dancing character’s counterpart.</p> - -<p>As a result of the Metropolitan Opera Company’s wartime ban on anything -German, in 1917, Pierre Monteux, the former Diaghileff conductor, was -imported by the Metropolitan for the expanded French list. One of the -results of Monteux’s influence on the Metropolitan repertoire was <i>Le -Coq d’Or</i>. Adolph Bolm, by that time resident in New York, having -remained here after the last Diaghileff American season, was engaged by -Otto H. Kahn to stage the work in the style of the Diaghileff -production. Bolm, who had his own ideas, nevertheless based his work on -Fokine’s basic plan, and that of the Fokine-Diaghileff production. Bolm -was meticulous, however, in insisting that credit be given to Fokine for -the original idea, and it was always billed as “after Michel Fokine.” -The Metropolitan production, as designed by the Hungarian artist, Willy -Pogany, whose sets were among the best the Metropolitan ever has seen, -resulted in one of the most attractive and exciting productions the -Metropolitan has achieved. Aside from the production itself, the singing -of the Spanish coloratura, Maria Barrientos, as the Queen, the -conducting of Monteux, and the dancing of Bolm as King Dodon, set a new -standard for the Metropolitan.</p> - -<p>On the occasion I have mentioned, we entered the front of the house, and -Fokine watched a bit of the performance with me, standing in the back of -the auditorium. He had no comment, which was unusual for him.</p> - -<p>After watching for a time, I asked Fokine if he would care to meet his -old colleague. He said he would. Together we felt our way<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_96">{96}</a></span> back stage in -the dimly lighted passages. The pass-door to back-stage was even darker. -I stood aside to let Fokine precede me. Then my heart nearly stopped. -Fokine stumbled and nearly fell prostrate on the iron-concrete steps. He -picked himself up, brushed himself off. “Mikhail Mikhailovitch,” I said, -half frightened to death, “you must be careful.”</p> - -<p>“It is nothing,” he replied, “but why in hell isn’t the place properly -lighted?”</p> - -<p>The meeting with Bolm, who had made Fokine’s favorite ballet even more -exciting than it actually was, was cordial enough, cool, and uneventful. -Bolm was by far the more demonstrative. Their conversation was general -rather than particular. Fokine and I looked over the stage, its size and -its equipment. Fokine thanked Bolm, apologized for the interruption, and -took his leave. As we felt our way out to the street, Fokine’s only -comment on <i>Le Coq d’Or</i> was, “The women’s shawls should be farther back -on the head. They are quite impossible when worn like that. And when -they weep, they should weep.”</p> - -<p>Fokine was a stickler for detail. In conversation about dancing, over -and over again he would use two Russian words, “<i>Naslajdaites</i>” and -“<i>laska</i>.” Freely translated, those Russian words suggest “do it as -though you enjoyed yourself” and “caressingly.”</p> - -<p>The programme for the appearances at the Metropolitan had been carefully -worked out, balanced with joint performances, solos for each, with -symphony orchestra interludes while Michel and Vera were changing -costumes. For the opening performance it was decided that Michel and -Vera would jointly do the lovely waltz from <i>Les Sylphides</i>; a group of -Caucasian dances to music arranged by Asafieff; the Mazurka from -Delibes’ <i>Coppélia</i>; and a group of five Russian dances by Liadov. -Fokine himself would do the male solo, the Mazurka from <i>Les Sylphides</i>, -and a Liadov <i>Berceuse</i>; while Vera’s solo contributions would be <i>The -Dying Swan</i>, and the arrangement Fokine made for her of Beethoven’s -“<i>Moonlight Sonata</i>.”</p> - -<p>The advertising campaign was under full steam ahead, and rehearsals were -well under way. So well were things going, in fact, that I relaxed my -habitual pre-opening tension for a moment at my home, which was, in -those days, in Brooklyn. I even missed a rehearsal, since Fokine was at -his very best, keen and interested, and the music was in the able hands -of Arnold Volpe, a musician who worked passionately for the highest -artistic aims, a Russian-born American</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_001" style="width: 393px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_01.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_01.jpg" width="393" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p> - -<p>S. Hurok</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_002" style="width: 403px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_02.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_02.jpg" width="403" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Lucas-Pritchard</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hurok</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_003" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_03a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_03a.jpg" width="550" height="517" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Lido</i></p> - -<p>Lubov Egorova and Solange Schwartz</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_03b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_03b.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Marie Rambert</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_004" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_04a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_04a.jpg" width="550" height="469" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Lido</i></p> - -<p>Olga Preobrajenska in her Paris school</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_005" style="width: 347px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_04b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_04b.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Lydia Lopokova</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Hoppé</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_006" style="width: 326px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_05a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_05a.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Tamara Karsavina</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_007" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_05b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_05b.jpg" width="550" height="390" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Mathilde Kchessinska</p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Lido</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_008" style="width: 343px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_06a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_06a.jpg" width="343" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Maurice Goldberg</i></p> - -<p>Michel Fokine</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_009" style="width: 283px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_06b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_06b.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Adolph Bolm</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Maurice Seymour</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_010" style="width: 296px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_07a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_07a.jpg" width="296" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Acme</i></p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_011" style="width: 534px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_07b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_07b.jpg" width="534" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Alexandre Volinine in his Paris studio, with Colette Marchand</p></div> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Lido</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_012" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_08a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_08a.jpg" width="550" height="408" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baker</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Ballet Pioneering in America: “Sasha” Philipoff, Irving Deakin, -Olga Morosova, “Colonel” W. de Basil, Sono Osato -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_013" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_096fp_08b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_096fp_08b.jpg" width="550" height="343" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p>S. Hurok, “Colonel” W. de Basil and leading members of the de Basil -Ballet Russe, 1933. Back row: David Lichine, Vania Psota, Sasha -Alexandroff, S. Hurok; Center row: Leonide Massine, Tatiana -Riabouchinska, Col. W. de Basil, Nina Verchinina, Yurek -Shabalevsky; Front row: Edward Borovansky, Tamara Toumanova</p> -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Nikoff</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_97">{97}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">pioneer in music. Volpe devoted his entire life, from the time of his -arrival in this country until his death, to the cause of young American -musicians. He was an ideal collaborator for the Fokines. There was a -fine understanding between Fokine and Volpe, and the performances, -therefore, were splendid. I felt content.</p> - -<p>But not for long. My peace of mind was shattered by a telephone call. It -was Mrs. Volpe. The news was bad. Fokine had suffered an injury during -rehearsal. He had pulled a leg tendon. The pain was severe. The -rehearsal had been abandoned.</p> - -<p>I rushed to Manhattan and up to the old Marie Antoinette Hotel, famous -as the long-time home of that wizard of the American theatre, David -Belasco. Here the Fokines had made their temporary home, while searching -for a house. Michel was in bed, with Vera in solicitous attendance. To -understate, the news was very bad. The doctor, who had just left, had -said it would be at least six weeks before he could permit Fokine to -dance.</p> - -<p>But the performance <i>had</i> to be given Tuesday night. It was now Sunday. -There was all the publicity, all the advertising, and the rent of the -Metropolitan Opera House had to be paid. This was not all. A tour had -been booked to follow the Metropolitan appearance, including -Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, and Richmond. Apart from my own -expenses, there were the responsibilities to the various local managers -and managements concerned. Something had to be done, and at once. The -newspapers had to be informed.</p> - -<p>The silence of the hotel bedroom, hitherto broken only by Vera’s cooing -ministrations, deepened. It was I who spoke. An idea flashed through my -mind.</p> - -<p>“Mikhail Mikhailovitch,” I said, “could Vera Petrovna do a full -programme on Tuesday night on her own?”</p> - -<p>Michel and Vera exchanged glances. There was something telepathic in the -communication between their eyes.</p> - -<p>Fokine turned his head in my direction.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said.</p> - -<p>Quickly the programme was rearranged. Fokine suggested adding a Chopin -group, which he called <i>Poland—Three Moods: Happiness, Revolt, -Sadness</i>.</p> - -<p>We went into action. The orchestra seat prices were five dollars, and a -five-dollar top was high in those days. Announcements were rushed out, -informing the public in big type that Vera Fokina, <i>Prima Ballerina -Russian Ballet</i>, would appear, together with the ad<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_98">{98}</a></span>justed programme, -which we agreed upon as follows: Arnold Volpe and his Symphony Orchestra -would play Weber’s <i>Oberon</i> Overture; Saint-Saens’ Symphonic Poem, -<i>Rouet d’Omphale</i>; Beethoven’s <i>Egmont Overture</i>; Rimsky-Korsakoff’s -<i>Capriccio Espagnol</i>; Ippolitoff-Ivanoff’s <i>Caucasian Sketches</i>; and the -<i>Wedding Procession</i> from Rimsky-Korsakoff’s <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>. Fokina had -an evening cut out for her: the three Polish moods I have mentioned; -<i>The Dying Swan</i>; <i>The “Moonlight” Sonata</i>; the <i>Danses Tziganes</i>, by -Nachez; <i>Sapeteado</i>, a Gitano Dance, by Hartmann; two <i>Caucasian -Dances</i>, to folk music arranged by Asafief; and four of Liadov’s -<i>Russian Folk Dances</i>.</p> - -<p>A large sign to the same effect was installed in the lobby of the -Metropolitan Opera House. The news spread quickly. But the public did -not seem to mind. In this eleventh-hour shifting of arrangements, I was -happy to have the whole-hearted cooperation of John Brown and Edward -Ziegler, the administrative heads of the Metropolitan Opera Company.</p> - -<p>The first performance was sold out; the audience was enthusiastic. -Moreover, while in those days there were no dance critics, the press -comment, largely a matter of straight reporting, was highly favorable. I -should like to quote <i>The New York Times</i> account in full as an example -of the sort of attention given then to such an important event, some -thirty-odd years ago: <i>“FOKINA’S ART DELIGHTS METROPOLITAN AUDIENCE—Her -Husband and Partner Ill, Russian Dancers Interest Throng Alone, with -Volpe’s Aid: Vera Fokina, the noted Russian dancer performed an unusual -feat on February 11, when she kept a great audience in the Metropolitan -keenly interested in her art for almost three hours. When it was -announced that Mr. Fokine, her husband, was ill and therefore not able -to carry out his part of the program, a murmur of dissatisfaction was -audible. But the auditors soon forgot their disappointment and wondered -at Mme. Fokina’s graceful and vivid interpretations</i>.</p> - -<p>“<i>Among the best liked of her offerings was the ‘Dying Swan,’ with -Saint-Saens’s music. Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ Sonata, well played by an -invisible pianist, Izia Seligman, and the Russian and Gipsy pieces. She -was compelled to give many encores.</i></p> - -<p>“<i>Arnold Volpe and his orchestra took a vital part in the program, -playing the music with a fine instinct for the interpretative ideas of -the dancer. He conducted his forces through some of the compositions -intended as the vehicles for the absent Mr. Fokine, and thus won an -honest share in the success of the entertainment.</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_99">{99}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>So much for ballet criticism in New York in 1920.</p> - -<p>The tour had to go on with Fokina alone, although Fokine had recovered -sufficiently to hobble about and to supervise and direct and oversee. A -certain Mr. K. had associated himself as a sort of local representative. -Mr. K. was not much of a local manager; but he did have an unholy talent -for cheque-bouncing. It was not a matter of one or two, due to some -error; they bounded and bounced all over the country in droves, and -daily. If the gods that be had seen fit to give me a less sound nervous -system than, happily, they have, K.’s financial antics could have -brought on a nervous breakdown.</p> - -<p>At the same time, Fokine, with his tremendous insistence on perfection, -hobbled about, giving orders to all and sundry in a mixture of -languages—Russian, French, German, Swedish, and Danish—that no one, -but no one, was able to understand. Even up to the time of his death, -English was difficult for Mikhail Mikhailovitch, and he spoke it, at all -times, with an unreproducible accent. His voice, unless excited, was -softly guttural. In typically Russian fashion, he interchanged the -letters “g” and “h.” Always there was an almost limitless range of -facial expressions.</p> - -<p>On this tour, Fokine, being unable to dance, had more time on his hands -to worry about everything else. His lighting rehearsals were long and -chaotic, since provincial electricians were not conspicuous either for -their ability, their interest, or their patience. During the lighting -rehearsals, since he was immobilised by his injury, Fokine and Vera -would sit side by side. He knew what he wanted; but, before he would -finally approve anything, he would turn to her for her commendation; and -there would pass between them that telepathic communication I often saw, -and about which I have remarked before. Occasionally, if something -amused them, they would laugh together; but, more often than not, their -faces revealed no more than would a skilled poker-player’s.</p> - -<p>Fokine could manage to keep his temper on an even keel for a -considerable time, if he put his mind to it. There was no affectation -about Fokine, either artistically or personally. In appearance there was -not a single one of those artificial eccentricities so often associated -with the “artistic temperament.” To the man in the street he would have -passed for a solidly successful business man. At work he was a -taskmaster unrelenting, implacable, fanatical frequently to the point of -downright cruelty. At rest, he was a gentleman of great charm and -simplicity, with a sense of humor and a certain<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_100">{100}</a></span> capacity for enjoyment. -Unfortunately, his sense of humor had a way of deserting him at critical -moments. This, coupled with a lack of tact, made him many enemies among -those who were once his closest friends. These occasional flashes of -geniality came only when things were going his way; but, if things did -not go as he wanted, his rages could be and were devastating, -all-consuming.</p> - -<p>One such incident occurred in Philadelphia. As a matter of fact, -Philadelphia was marked by incidents. The first was one I had with -Edward Lobe, then manager of Philadelphia’s Metropolitan Opera House, -then at Broad and Poplar Streets. It had to do with some of the bouncing -K.’s bouncing paper. This straightened out, I returned to the stage to -find turmoil rampant. There was another crisis.</p> - -<p>The crisis had been precipitated by the man whose job it was to operate -the curtain. Fokine had shouted and screamed “<i>Zanovess! Zanovess!</i>” at -the unfortunate individual. Now “<i>Zanovess</i>” is the Russian word for -curtain. The curtain had not fallen. Fokine could not say “curtain.” The -operator did not have the vaguest idea of the meaning of “<i>zanovess</i>.” -Moreover, the stage-hand suspected, from the tone of Fokine’s voice, his -barked order, and the fierce expression of his face that he was being -called names. When, finally, Fokine screamed “<i>Idyot!</i>” at him, the -curtain-man knew for sure he had been insulted. The argument and -hostility spread through his colleagues.</p> - -<p>Eventually, I got them calmed down. Fokine insisted they were all -idiots; they were all ignorant. This idea leaked through to the -stage-hands, and that did not help matters. I finally suggested that, -since neither of them could understand the other, the best procedure -would be not to scream and shout and stomp—uttering strange mixed -French and Russian oaths—but to be quiet and to show by gesture and -pantomime, rather than to give unintelligible verbal orders. So, with -only minor subsequent scenes, the rehearsal got itself finished.</p> - -<p>Also, in Philadelphia, we had substituted <i>Salome’s Dance of the Seven -Veils</i>, done to Glazounov’s score of the same name, in place of the -<i>“Moonlight” Sonata.</i> It is hardly necessary to point out that the -veils, all seven of them, are vastly important. Because of their -importance, these had been entrusted to the keeping of Clavia, Vera’s -Russian maid, instead of being packed with the other costumes. But, come -performance time, Clavia could not be found. Hue and cry were raised; -her hotel alerted; restaurants searched; but still no Clavia. She simply -had to be found. I pressed Marie Volpe, Arnold Volpe’s singer-wife, into -the breach to act as maid for Vera, and to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_101">{101}</a></span> help her dress. But only -Clavia knew where Salome’s veils had been secreted. The performance -started. The search continued.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, there came a series of piercing screams emanating from an -upper floor dressing-room. Haunted by visions of the Phantom of the -Opera, I rushed up the stairs to find Clavia lying on the floor, -obviously in pain. We managed to get her down to Fokina’s room and -placed her on the couch in what was known in Philadelphia as “Caruso’s -Room,” the star dressing-room Fokina was using. As we entered, Fokina -stood ready to go on stage, costumed for <i>The Dying Swan</i>. The situation -was obvious. Clavia was about to give birth to a child. The labor pains -had commenced. I pushed Vera on to the stage and Marie Volpe into the -room—in the nick of time. Mrs. Volpe, a concert singer, pinch-hitting -as a maid for Vera, now turned midwife for the first time in her life. -By the time the ambulance and the doctor arrived, mother and infant were -doing as well as could be expected.</p> - -<p>Next morning Mrs. Volpe found herself a new role. A lady of high moral -scruples, herself a mother, she had realized that no one had mentioned a -father for the child. Mrs. Volpe had assumed the role of detective (a -dangerous one, I assure the reader, in ballet), and was determined to -run down the child’s father. The newspaper stories, with the headline: -“<i>CHILD BORN IN CARUSO’S DRESSING ROOM</i>,” had not been too reassuring to -Mrs. Volpe. I counselled her that she would be well advised to let the -matter drop.</p> - -<p>On our arrival in Baltimore, I was greeted by the news that my -rubber-wizard of a local manager, the bouncing Mr. K., had decamped with -the box-office sale, leaving behind only some rubber cheques. This, in -itself, I felt was enough for one day. But it was not to be. Vera, as -curtain time approached, once again was up to her usual business of -exhibiting “temperament,” spoiling her life, as she so often did in this -respect, throughout her dancing career.</p> - -<p>“What is it now?” I asked.</p> - -<p>She waxed wroth with great volubility and at considerable length, with -profound indignation that the stage floor-cloth was, as she said, -“impossible.” Nothing I could say was of any avail. Vera refused, -absolutely, irrevocably, unconditionally, to dance. Mrs. Volpe was to -help her into her street clothes, and at once. She would return to her -hotel. She would return to New York. I must cancel the engagement, the -tour, all because of the stage-cloth. And the audience was already -filling the theatre.</p> - -<p>I thought quickly and went into action. Calling the head car<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_102">{102}</a></span>penter and -the property man together, I got them to turn the floor-cloth round. -Then, going back to the dressing-room, where Vera was preparing to -leave, I succeeded in convincing her by showing her that it was an -entirely new doth that we had just got for her happiness.</p> - -<p>Vera Fokina never danced better than that night in Baltimore.</p> - -<p>Our farewell performance, with both Fokines dancing, took place at -Charles Dillingham’s Hippodrome, on Sunday evening, 29th May, 1920. For -this occasion, the Fokines appeared together, by popular request, in the -Harlequin and Columbine variation from his own masterpiece, <i>Carnaval</i>; -Fokine alone danced the <i>Dagestanskaja Lezginka</i>, and staged a work he -called <i>Amoun and Berenis</i>, actually scenes from his <i>Une Nuit -d’Egypte</i>, which Diaghileff called <i>Cléopâtre</i>, adapted, musically, from -Anton Arensky’s score for the ballet. I quote Fokine’s own libretto for -the work:</p> - -<div class="blockquott"><p>Amoun and Berenis are engaged in the sport of hunting. She -represents Gazelle, and he the hunter who wounds her in the breast. -The engaged couple plight each other to everlasting love. But soon -Amoun betrays his bride. He falls in love with Queen Cleopatra. Not -having the opportunity of coming near his beloved queen, he sends -an arrow with a note professing his love and readiness to sacrifice -his life for her. Notwithstanding the tears and prayers of Berenis, -he throws himself into the arms of Cleopatra, and, lured by her -tenderness, he accepts from her hands a cup of poison, drinks it -and dies. Berenis finds the corpse of her lover, forgives him and -mourns his death.</p></div> - -<p class="nind">The Hippodrome version consisted of “The Meeting of Amoun and Berenis” -“The Entrance of Cleopatra,” by the orchestra; “The Dance Before -Cleopatra”; “The Betrayal of Amoun and the Jealousy of Berenis”; “The -Hebrew Dance,” by the orchestra; “The Death of Amoun and the Mourning of -Berenis.”</p> - -<p>In 1927, I presented the Fokines with their “American Ballet,” composed -of their pupils, at the Masonic Auditorium, in Detroit, and on -subsequent tours. Prominent professional dancers were added to the pupil -roster.</p> - -<p>That summer, with the Fokines and their company, I introduced ballet to -the Lewisohn Stadium Concerts in New York, for three performances, to a -record audience of forty-eight thousand people. I also presented them -for four performances at the Century Theatre<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_103">{103}</a></span> in Central Park West. The -Stadium programmes included <i>Les Elves</i>, arranged to Mendelssohn’s -<i>Overture to a Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>, with the addition of the same -composer’s Andante and Allegro from the <i>Violin Concerto</i>. Also -<i>Medusa</i>, a tragedy set to Tchaikowsky’s <i>Symphonie Pathétique</i>, a work -for four characters, the title role being danced by Vera Fokina, and the -sea god Poseidon, who fell in love with the beautiful Medusa, danced by -Fokine.</p> - -<p>It was during one of the Stadium performances, I remember, I had -occasion to go to the Fokines’ dressing-room on some errand. I knocked, -and believing I heard an invitation to enter, opened the door to -discover the two Fokines dissolved in tears of happiness. So moved was -Michel by Vera’s performance of the title role in <i>Medusa</i>, that they -were sobbing in each other’s arms.</p> - -<p>“Wonderful, wonderful, my darling!” Fokine was murmuring. “Such a -beautiful performance; and to think you did it all in such a short -period, with so very few rehearsals; and the really amazing thing is -that you portrayed the character of the creature precisely as it is in -my mind!”</p> - -<p>In the love, the adoration, the romance of Michel and Vera Fokine, there -was the greatest continuous devotion between man and wife that it has -been my privilege to know.</p> - -<p>Fokine’s American ballet creations have been lost. Perhaps it is as -well. For the closing chapter of the life of a truly great artist they -were sadly inferior. Towards the end of his career, however, he staged -some fresh, new works in France for René Blum’s Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, including <i>Les Elements</i>, <i>Don Juan</i>, and <i>L’Epreuve d’Amour</i>. -Then, for de Basil’s Original Ballet Russe, <i>Cinderella</i>, or since he -used the French, <i>Cendrillon</i>, to a commissioned score by Baron Frederic -d’Erlanger, which might have been better. But choreographically -<i>Cendrillon</i> was a return to the triumphant Fokine. There was also his -triumphant re-staging of <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>. Perhaps his last really great -triumph was his collaboration with Serge Rachmaninoff on <i>Paganini</i>, a -work that takes rank with Fokine’s finest.</p> - -<p>Fokine restaged <i>Les Sylphides</i> and <i>Carnaval</i> for Ballet Theatre’s -initial season. When Ballet Theatre was under my management, he created -<i>Bluebeard</i>, in 1941, for Anton Dolin. In 1942, I was instrumental in -having German Sevastianov engage Fokine to stage the nostalgic tragedy, -<i>Russian Soldier</i>, to the music of Prokofieff.</p> - -<p>While in Mexico, in the summer of 1942, working on <i>Helen of Troy</i>, for -Ballet Theatre, Fokine contracted pleurisy, which developed into -pneumonia on his return to New York, where he died, on<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_104">{104}</a></span> 22nd August. For -a dancer, he was on the youthful side. He was born in Mannheim-am-Rhine, -Germany, 26th April, 1880, the son of Ekaterina Gindt. According to the -official records of the St. Petersburg Imperial School, his father was -unknown. He was adopted by a merchant, Mikhail Feodorovitch Fokine, who -gave him his name. In 1898, he graduated from the St. Petersburg -Imperial School. In 1905, he married Vera Petrovna Antonova, the -daughter of a master of the wig-maker’s Guild, who had graduated from -the School the year before.</p> - -<p>At the funeral service at the Russian Orthodox Cathedral, in New York, -were assembled all of the dance world in New York in mid-summer, to do -him honor.</p> - -<p>Some of his works will live on, but they suffer with each passing year -because, in most cases, they are not properly done. The Sadler’s Wells -and Royal Danish Ballet productions of the Fokine works are the -exceptions. But all his works suffered continually during his lifetime, -because Fokine had a faulty memory, and his restaging of the works was, -all too often, the product of unhappy afterthoughts. Towards the end of -his life he became more and more embittered. He, the one-time great -revolutionary, resented the new developments in ballet, perhaps because -they had not been developed by Fokine.</p> - -<p>This bitterness was quite unnecessary, for Fokine remains the greatest -creator of modern ballet. His works, properly staged, will always -provide a solid base for all ballet programmes. Despite the hue and cry, -despite the lavish praise heaped upon each new experiment by modern -choreographers, and upon the choreographers themselves, in all -contemporary ballet there is no one to take his place.</p> - -<p>Other ballet-masters, other choreographers, working with the same basic -materials, in the same spirit, in the same language, often require -detailed synopses and explanations for their works, in spite of which -the meaning of them often remains lost in the murk of darkest obscurity. -I remember once asking Fokine to supply a synopsis of one of his new -works for programme purposes. I shall not forget his reply: “No synopsis -is needed for my ballets. My ballets unfold their stories on the stage. -There is never any doubt as to what they say.”</p> - -<p>I have visited Vera Petrovna Fokine in the castle on the Hudson where -she lives in lonely nostalgia. But it is not quite true that she lives -alone; for she lives with the precious memory of a great love, a -tremendous reputation, the memory of a great artist, the artist who -created <i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Prince Igor</i>, and <i>Petroushka</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_105">{105}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_7">7.</a> Ballet Reborn In America: W. De Basil and His Ballets Russes De Monte Carlo</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span><b>HE</b> last of the two American tours of Serge de Diaghileff’s Ballets -Russes was during the season 1916-1917.</p> - -<p>The last American tour of Anna Pavlova and her company was during the -season 1925-1926.</p> - -<p>Serge Diaghileff died at Venice, on 19th August, 1929.</p> - -<p>Anna Pavlova died at The Hague, on 23rd January, 1931.</p> - -<p>W. de Basil’s Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo gave their first American -performances at the St. James Theatre, New York, on 21st December, 1933.</p> - -<p>Such ballet as America saw between Pavlova’s last performance in 1926 -and the first de Basil performance in 1933, may be briefly stated.</p> - -<p>From 1924 to 1927, in Chicago, there was the Chicago Allied Arts, -sometimes described as the first “ballet theatre” in the United States, -sparked by Adolph Bolm.</p> - -<p>In 1926 and 1927, there were a few sporadic performances by Mikhail -Mordkin and his Russian Ballet Company, which included Xenia Macletzova, -Vera Nemtchinova, Hilda Butsova, and Pierre Vladimiroff.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_106">{106}</a></span></p> - -<p>From 1928 to 1931, Leonide Massine staged weekly ballet productions at -the Roxy Theatre, in New York, including a full-length <i>Schéhérazade</i>, -with four performances daily, Massine acting both as choreographer and -leading dancer. In 1930, he staged Stravinsky’s <i>Le Sacre du Printemps</i>, -for four performances in Philadelphia and two at the Metropolitan Opera -House, in New York, with the collaboration of Leopold Stokowski and the -Philadelphia Orchestra, and with Martha Graham making one of her rare -appearances in ballet, in the leading role.</p> - -<p>That is the story. Hardly a well-tilled ground in which to sow balletic -seed with the hope of a bumper crop. It is not surprising that all my -friends and all my rival colleagues in the field of management -prophesied dire things for me (presumably with different motives) when I -determined on the rebirth of ballet in America in the autumn of 1933. -Their predictions were as mournful as those of Macbeth’s witches.</p> - -<p>The ballet situation in the Western World, after the deaths of -Diaghileff and Pavlova, save for the subsidized ballets at the Paris -Opera and La Scala in Milan, was not vastly different. If you will look -through the files of the European newspapers of the period, you will -find an equally depressing note: “The Swan passes, and ballet with her” -... “The puppet-master is gone; the puppets must be returned to their -boxes” ... and a bit later: “Former Diaghileff dancers booked to appear -in revues and cabaret turns.” ...</p> - -<p>In England, J. Maynard Keynes, Lydia Lopokova, Ninette de Valois, Marie -Rambert, Constant Lambert, and Arnold L. Haskell had formed the Camargo -Society for Sunday night ballet performances, which organization gave -birth to Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club and the Vic Wells Ballet. In 1933, -the glories of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet were hardly dreams, not yet a -glimmer in Ninette de Valois’ eye.</p> - -<p>In Europe there remained only the Diaghileff remains and a vacant -Diaghileff contract at Monte Carlo. This latter deserves a word of -explanation. Diaghileff had acquired the name—the Ballets Russes de -Monte Carlo—thanks to the Prince of Monaco, himself a ballet lover, who -had offered Diaghileff and his company a home and a place to work.</p> - -<p>René Blum, an intellectual French gentleman of deep culture and fine -taste, took over the unexpired Diaghileff Monte Carlo contract. Blum was -at hand for, at the time of Diaghileff’s death, he was at<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_107">{107}</a></span> the head of -the dramatic theatre at Monte Carlo. In fulfilment of the Diaghileff -contract, for a time Blum booked such itinerant ballet groups as he -could. Then, in 1931, he organized his own Ballets Russes de Monte -Carlo. George Balanchine, who had staged some of the last of the -Diaghileff works, became the first choreographer for the new company. -For the Monte Carlo repertoire, he created three works. To it, from -Paris, he brought two of the soon-to-become-famous “baby ballerinas,” -Irina Baronova and Tamara Toumanova, both from the classroom of Olga -Preobrajenska.</p> - -<p>Early in 1932, René Blum joined forces with one of the most curious -personalities that modern ballet has turned up, in the person of a -gentleman who wished to be known as Col. W. de Basil.</p> - -<p>De Basil had had a ballet company of sorts for some time. I first ran -into him in Paris, shortly after Diaghileff’s death, where he had allied -himself with Prince Zeretelli’s Russian Opera Company; and again in -London, where the Lionel Powell management, in association with the -Imperial League of Opera, had given them a season of combined opera and -ballet at the old Lyceum Theatre. With ballets by Boris Romanoff and -Bronislava Nijinska, de Basil had toured his little troupe around Europe -in buses, living from hand to mouth; had turned up for a season at Monte -Carlo, at René Blum’s invitation. That did it. De Basil worked out a -deal with Blum, whereby de Basil became a joint managing director of the -combined companies, now under the title of Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. -A season was given in the summer of 1932, in Paris, at the <i>Théâtre des -Champs Elysées</i>.</p> - -<p>It was there I first saw the new company. It was then I took the plunge. -I negotiated. I signed them for a visit to the American continent. A -book could be devoted to these negotiations alone. It would not be -believable; it would fail to pass every test of credibility ever -devised.</p> - -<p>I feel that this is the point at which to digress for a moment, in order -to sketch in a line drawing of de Basil, with some of the shadows and -some of the substance. Unless I do, no reader will be able to understand -why I once contemplated a book to be called <i>To Hell With Ballet</i>!</p> - -<p>To begin with, de Basil was a Cossack and a Caucasian. Neither term -carries with it any connotation of gentleness or sensitivity. De Basil -was one of the last persons in the world you would expect to find at the -head of an organization devoted to the development of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_108">{108}</a></span> the gentle, lyric -art of the ballet. Two more dissimilar partners in an artistic venture -than de Basil and Blum could not be found.</p> - -<p>René Blum, the gentle, cultured intellectual, was a genuine artist: -amiable, courteous, and fully deserving of the often misused phrase—a -man of the world. His alliance with de Basil was foredoomed to failure; -for one of René Blum’s outstanding characteristics was a passion to -avoid arguments, discussions, scandals, troubles of any sort. Blum -commanded the highest respect from his artists and associates; but they -never feared him. To them he was the kind, understanding friend to whom -they might run with their troubles and problems. Blum’s sensitivity was -such that he would run from de Basil as one would try to escape a -plague. René Blum, you would say, was, perhaps, the ivory-tower -dilettante. You would be wrong. René Blum gave the lie to this during -the war by revealing himself a man of heroic stature. On the occupation -of France, he was in grave danger, since he was a Jew, and the brother -of Léon Blum, the Socialist leader, great French patriot and one-time -Premier. René, however, was safely and securely out of the country. But -he, too, was a passionate lover of France. France, he felt, needed him. -Tossing aside his own safety, he returned to his beloved country, to -share its fate. His son, who was the apple of his father’s eye, joined -the Maquis; was killed fighting the Nazis. René Blum was the victim of -Nazi persecution.</p> - -<p>Let us look for a moment at the background of Blum’s ballet -collaborator. The “Colonel” was born Vassily Grigorievitch Voskresensky. -In his native <i>milieu</i> he had some sort of police-military career. -Although he insisted on the title “Colonel,” he certainly never attained -that rank in the Tsar’s army. He was a lieutenant in the <i>Gendarmes</i>. -After the revolution, in 1918, he turned up as a captain with -Bicherakoff’s Cossacks. Later on he turned naval and operated in the -Black Sea.</p> - -<p>There is an interval in de Basil’s life that has never been entirely -filled in with complete accuracy: the period immediately following his -flight and escape from Russia. The most credible of the legends -surrounding this period is that he sold motor-cars in Italy. Eventually, -he turned up in Paris, where my trail picked him up at a concert agency -called <i>Zerbaseff</i>, which concerned itself with finding jobs for refugee -artists. It was then he called himself de Basil.</p> - -<p>At the time I met him, he had a Caucasian partner, the Prince Zeretelli -whom I have mentioned, and who was a one-time manager<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_109">{109}</a></span> of the People’s -Theatre, in St. Petersburg. It was this partnership that brought forth -the <i>Ballet and Opéra Russe de Paris</i>, which gave seasons at the -<i>Théâtre des Champs Elysées</i>, in Paris, and, as I have mentioned, at the -Lyceum Theatre, in London.</p> - -<p>Let me first set down the man’s virtues. De Basil had great charm. By -that I do not necessarily mean he was charming. His charm was something -he could turn on at will, like a tap, usually when he was in a tight -spot. More than once it helped him out of deep holes, and sticky ones. -He had an inexhaustible fount of energy, could drive himself and others; -never seemed to need sleep; and, aiming at a highly desired personal -goal, had unending patience. With true oriental passivity, he could -wait. He had undaunted courage; needless, reckless courage, in my -opinion; a stupid courage compounded often out of equal parts of -stubbornness and sheer bravado. He was a born organizer. He intuitively -possessed a flair for the theatre: a flair without knowledge. He could -be an excellent host; he was a <i>cordon bleu</i> cook. He was generous, he -was simple in his tastes.</p> - -<p>Yet, with all these virtues, de Basil was, at the same time, one of the -most difficult human beings I have ever encountered in a lifetime of -management. This tall, gaunt, cadaver of a man had a powerful physique, -a dead-pan face, and a pair of cold, astigmatic eyes, before which -rested thick-lensed spectacles. He had all the makings of a dictator. -Like his countryman, Joseph Stalin, he was completely impossible as a -collaborator. He was a born intriguer, and delighted in surrounding -himself with scheming characters. During my career I have met scheming -characters who, nevertheless, have had certain positive virtues: they -succeeded in getting things done. De Basil’s scheming characters -consisted of lawyers, hacks, amateur managers, brokers, without -exception third-rate people who damaged and destroyed.</p> - -<p>It would be an act of great injustice to call de Basil stupid. He was as -shrewd an article as one could expect to meet amongst all the lads who -have tried to sell the unwary stranger the Brooklyn Bridge, the Capitol -at Washington, or the Houses of Parliament.</p> - -<p>De Basil deliberately engaged this motley crew of hangers-on, since his -Caucasian Machiavellism was such that he loved to pit them one against -the other, to use them to build up an operetta atmosphere of cheap -intrigue that I felt sure had not hitherto existed save in the Graustark -type of fiction. De Basil used them<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_110">{110}</a></span> to irritate and annoy. He would -dispatch them abroad in his company simply to stir up trouble, to form -cliques: for purposes of <i>chantage</i>; he would order them into whispered -colloquies in corners, alternately wearing knowing looks and glum -visages. De Basil and his entire entourage lived in a world of intrigue -of their own deliberate making. His fussy, busy little cohorts cost him -money he did not have, and raised such continuous hell that the wonder -is the company held together as long as it did.</p> - -<p>De Basil’s unholy joy would come from creating, through these henchmen, -a nasty situation and then stepping in to pull a string here, jerk a -cord there, he would save the situation, thus becoming the hero of the -moment.</p> - -<p>I shall have more to say on the subject of the “Colonel” before this -tale is told.</p> - -<p>Now, with the contracts signed for the first American visit, we were on -our honeymoon. Meanwhile, however, the picture of what I had agreed to -bring was changing. Leonide Massine, his stint at the Roxy Theatre in -New York completed, had met a former Broadway manager, E. Ray Goetz. -Together they had succeeded in raising some money and planned with it to -buy the entire Diaghileff properties. With this stock in hand, Massine -caught up with de Basil, who was barnstorming through the Low Countries -with his company in trucks and buses; and the two of them pooled -resources. Although Massine’s purchase plan did not go through entirely, -because much of the Diaghileff material had disappeared through lawsuits -and other claims, nevertheless Massine was able to deliver a sizable -portion of it.</p> - -<p>As the direct result of Massine’s appointment as artistic director, a -number of things happened. First of all, Balanchine quit, and formed a -short-lived company in France, <i>Les Ballets 1933</i>, the history of which -is not germane to this story. Before he left, however, Balanchine had -created three works for the de Basil-Blum Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo: -<i>La Concurrence</i>, <i>Le Cotillon</i>, and <i>Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme</i>. -Massine, as his first task, staged <i>Jeux d’Enfants</i> and <i>Les Plages</i>; -restaged three of his earlier works, <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i>, <i>Le Beau -Danube</i> and <i>Scuola di Ballo</i>; and the first of his epoch-making -symphonic ballets, <i>Les Présages</i>, to Tchaikowsky’s Fifth Symphony. -These were combined with a number of older works from the Diaghileff -repertoire, including the three Fokine masterpieces: <i>Les Sylphides</i>, -<i>Prince Igor</i>, and <i>Petroushka</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_111">{111}</a></span></p> - -<p>Massine had strengthened the company. There were the former Diaghileff -<i>régisseur general</i>, Serge Grigorieff, of long memory, as stage -director; his wife, Lubov Tchernicheva, a leading Diaghileff figure, for -dramatic roles; the last Diaghileff <i>ballerina</i>, Alexandra Danilova, to -give stability to the three “baby ballerinas”: Baronova, Toumanova, and -Tatiana Riabouchinska, the last from Kchessinska’s private studio, by -way of Nikita Balieff’s <i>Chauve Souris</i>, where she had been dancing. -There was the intriguing Nina Verchinina, a “different” type of dancer. -There were talented lesser ladies: Eugenia Delarova, Lubov Rostova; a -group of English girls masquerading under Russian names. Among the men, -in addition to Massine, there were Leon Woizikovsky, David Lichine, -Roman Jasinsky, Paul Petroff, Yurek Shabalevsky, and André Eglevsky.</p> - -<p>A successful breaking-in season was given at the Alhambra Theatre, in -London’s Leicester Square. While this was in progress, we set about at -the most necessary and vastly important business of trying to build a -public for ballet in America, for this is a ballet impresario’s first -job. That original publicity campaign was, in its way, history-making. -It took a considerable bit of organizing. No field was overlooked. In -addition to spreading the gospel of ballet, there was a Sponsors’ -Committee, headed by the Grand Duchess Marie and Otto H. Kahn. Prince -Serge Obolensky was an ever-present source of help.</p> - -<p>It was a chilly and fairly raw December morning in 1933 when I clambered -aboard the cutter at the Battery, to go down the Bay to board the ship -at Quarantine. It is a morning I shall not soon forget. I was in ballet -up to my neck; and I loved it. There have been days and nights in the -succeeding two decades when I have seriously played with the notion of -what life might have been like if I had not gone aboard (and overboard) -that December morning.</p> - -<p>I took with me the traditional Russian welcome: a tray of bread, wrapped -in a white linen serviette, a little bowl of salt, which I offered to de -Basil. I was careful to see that the reporters and camera men were in -place when I did it. De Basil’s poker-face actually smiled as I handed -him the tray, uncovered the bread, poured the salt. But only for a -moment. A Russian word in greeting, and then there was an immediate -demand from him to see the theatre. We were on our way. Driving uptown -to the St. James Theatre, the arguments commenced. There was the matter -of the programme. There was the matter of the size of de Basil’s name; -the question of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_112">{112}</a></span> the relative size of the artists’ names; the type-face; -the order in which they should be listed; what was to become the -everlasting arguments over repertoire and casting. But I was in it, now.</p> - -<p>I believed in the “star” system—not because I believe the system to be -a perfect one, by any means, but because the American public, which had -been without any major ballet company for eight years, and which had had -practically no ballet activity, had to be attracted and arrested by -something more than an unknown and heretofore unheard-of company and the -photograph of a not particularly photogenic ex-Cossack.</p> - -<p>The pre-Christmas <i>première</i> at the St. James Theatre, on the night of -21st December, marked the beginning of a new epoch in ballet, and in my -career. It was going to be a long pull, an uphill struggle. I knew that. -The opening night audience was brilliant; the house was packed, -enthusiastic. But the advance sale at the box-office was anything but -encouraging. Diaghileff had failed in America. The losses of his two -seasons, paid for by Otto H. Kahn, ran close to a half-million dollars. -I was on my own. Since readers are as human as I am, perhaps they will -forgive my pardonable pride, the pride I felt sixteen years later, on -reading the historian George Amberg’s comment: “If it had not been for -Mr. Hurok’s resourceful management and promotion, de Basil would -certainly not have succeeded where Diaghileff failed.”</p> - -<p>But I am anticipating. The opening programme consisted of <i>La -Concurrence</i>, <i>Les Présages</i>, and <i>Le Beau Danube</i>. Toumanova in the -first; Baronova and Lichine in the second; Massine, Danilova, and -Riabouchinska in the third. It was a night. The next day’s press was -excellent. It was John Martin, with what I felt was an anti-Diaghileff -bias, who offered some reservations.</p> - -<p>Following the opening performance, I gave the first of my many ballet -suppers, this one at the Savoy-Plaza. It was very gala. The Sponsors’ -Committee turned up <i>en masse</i>. White-gloved waiters served, among other -things, super hot dogs, as a native gesture to the visitors from -overseas. The “baby ballerinas” looked as if they should have been in -bed. That is, two of them did. One of them was missing, and there was -some concern as to what could have happened to Tamara Toumanova. -However, there was no necessity for concern for Tamara, since she, with -her sense of the theatre, the theatrical, and the main chance, made a -late and quite theatrical entry, with Paul D. Cravath on one arm and -Otto H. Kahn on the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_113">{113}</a></span> other. The new era in ballet was inaugurated by -these two distinguished gentlemen and patrons of the arts sipping -champagne from a ballet slipper especially made for the occasion by a -leading Fifth Avenue bootmaker.</p> - -<p>The opening a matter of history, the publicity department went into -action at double the record-breaking pace at which they had been -functioning for weeks. The resulting press coverage was overwhelming and -national.</p> - -<p>But, however gratifying all this may have been, I had my troubles, and -they increased daily. The publicity simply could not please all the -people all the time. I mean the ballet people, of course. There was -always the eternally dissatisfied de Basil. In addition, there were -three fathers, nineteen mothers, and one sister-in-law to be satisfied. -Then there were daily casting problems. The publicity department was -giving the press what it wanted: feature stories on ballet, on artists, -on the daily life of the dancer. It was then de Basil determined that -all publicity must be centered on his own august person. He had a point -of view, I must admit. Dancers were here today, gone tomorrow. De Basil -and his ballet remained. But no newspaper is interested in running -repeated photographs of a dour, bespectacled male. They wanted “leg -art.” When de Basil insisted that he be photographed, the camera men -would “shoot” him with a filmless or plateless camera.</p> - -<p>In addition to having to contend with what threatened to become a -chronic and incurable case of Basildiaghileffitis, I was losing a potful -of money. The St. James Theatre is no better than any other Broadway -house as a home for ballet. The stage is far too small either to display -the décor or to permit dancers to move freely. The auditorium, even if -filled to capacity, cannot meet ballet expenses. We were not playing to -anything like capacity. There was a tour booked; but, thanks to a “stop -clause” in the theatre contract—a figure above which the attraction -must continue at the theatre—we could not leave. We had made the “stop -clause” too low. There was only one thing to do in order to protect the -tour. I decided to divide the company into two companies.</p> - -<p>Forced to fulfil two sets of obligations at the end of the first month -at the St. James Theatre, I opened a tour in Reading, Pennsylvania, with -Massine, Danilova, Toumanova, the larger part of the <i>corps de ballet</i>, -Efrem Kurtz conducting the orchestra, and all of the ballets in the -repertoire except three.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_114">{114}</a></span></p> - -<p>The company remaining at the St. James had Baronova, Riabouchinska, -Lichine, and Woizikovsky, with the corps augmented by New York dancers, -and Antal Dorati as conductor. This company gave eight performances -weekly of the Fokine masterpieces, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Petroushka</i>, and -<i>Prince Igor</i>. The steadily increasing public did not seem to mind.</p> - -<p>The response on the road and in New York was surprisingly good. When we -finally left New York, the two groups merged, and we played a second -Chicago engagement, at the marvellous old Auditorium Theatre. All were -there, save for Grigorieff, Alexandra Danilova, and Dorati, who returned -to Monte Carlo to fulfil de Basil’s contract with Blum for a spring -season in Monaco.</p> - -<p>There was a brief spring season in New York, preceded by a week at the -Forrest Theatre in Philadelphia, where Massine’s first “American” ballet -had its dress rehearsals and first performances. This was <i>Union -Pacific</i>, a four-scened work in which Massine had the collaboration of -the distinguished American poet, Archibald MacLeish, on the story; -Albert Johnson, on the settings; Irene Sharaff, with costumes; and a -score, based on American folk-tunes, by Nicholas Nabokoff. It was the -first Russian ballet attempt to deal with the native American scene and -material, treating the theme of the building of the first -transcontinental railway.</p> - -<p>We gave its first performance on the night of April 6, 1934, and the -cast included Massine himself, his wife Eugenia Delarova, Irina -Baronova, Sono Osato, David Lichine, and André Eglevsky, in the central -roles.</p> - -<p>It was Massine’s prodigious Barman’s dance that proved to be the -highlight of the work.</p> - -<p>The balance of the company eventually returned to Europe for their -summer seasons in London and Paris, and to stage new productions. Back -they came in the autumn for another tour. The problem of a proper -theatre for ballet in New York had not been solved; so I took the -company from Europe to Mexico City for an engagement at the newly -remodeled Palacio des Bellas Artes. There were problems galore. Once -again I fell back on my right-hand-bower, Mae Frohman, rushed her to -Mexico to clear them. Back from Mexico by boat to New York, with a -hurried transfer for trains to Toronto, and a long coast-to-coast tour. -The New York engagement that season was brief: five performances only. -The only theatre available was the Majestic, whose stage is no less -cramped, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_115">{115}</a></span> whose auditorium provides no illusion. During this brief -season a new work by Massine was presented: <i>Jardin Public</i> (<i>Public -Garden</i>). It was based on a fragment from André Gide’s <i>The -Counterfeiters</i>, in a scenario by Massine and Vladimir Dukelsky (Vernon -Duke) who supplied the music. It was not one of Massine’s most -successful works by any means. But the <i>première</i> did provide an amusing -incident. Danilova was cast as a wealthy woman; Massine and Toumanova as -The Poor Couple. On the opening night, Danilova, who showed her wealthy -status by dancing a particularly lively rhumba, lost her underpants -while dancing in the center of the stage. The contretemps she carried -off with great aplomb. But, on her exit, she did not carry off the -underwear, which remained in the center of the stage as a large colored -blob. Danilova’s exit was followed by the entrance of Toumanova and -Massine, clad in rags as befitted The Poor Couple. Toumanova, fixing her -eyes on the offending lingerie, picked it up, examined it critically, -and then, as if it were something from the nether world and quite -unspeakable, dramatically hurled it off-stage in an attitude of utter -disgust, as if it were a symbol of the thing she most detested: wealth.</p> - -<p>Although the five performances were sold out, we could not cover our -expenses. In the autumn of 1935, when the company returned for its third -season, we were able to bring Ballet to the Metropolitan Opera House -and, for the first time since its rebirth in America, the public really -saw it at its best.</p> - -<p>During this time we had made substantial additions to the repertoire: -Massine’s second and third symphonic ballets, the Brahms <i>Choreartium</i>, -and the Berlioz <i>Symphonie Fantastique</i>; Nijinska’s <i>The Hundred -Kisses</i>. In addition to Fokine’s new non-operatic version of <i>Le Coq -d’Or</i>, which I have mentioned, there were added Fokine’s <i>Schéhérazade</i>, -<i>The Afternoon of a Faun</i>, and Nijinsky’s <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>.</p> - -<p>The gross takings of the fourth American season of the de Basil company -reached round a million dollars.</p> - -<p>By this time matters were coming to a head. All was not, by any means, -well in ballet. Massine, by this time, was at swords’ points with de -Basil. I was irritated, bored, fatigued, worn out with him and his -entourage. Since de Basil had lost his Monte Carlo connection, he had -also lost touch with the artistic thought that had served as a stimulus -to creation.</p> - -<p>It is necessary for me to make another digression at this point.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_116">{116}</a></span> The -opening chapter of the New Testament is, as the reader will remember, a -geneological one, with a formidable list of “begats.” It seems to me the -course of wisdom to try to clear up, if I can, the “begats” of Russian -Ballet since the day on which I first allied myself with it. I shall try -to disentangle them for the sake of the reader’s better understanding. -There were so many similar names, artists moving from one company to -another, ballets appearing in the repertoires of more than one -organization.</p> - -<p>In this saga, I have called this chapter “W. de Basil and his Ballets -Russes de Monte Carlo.” It is a convenient handle. The confusion that -was so characteristic of the man de Basil, was intensified by the fact -that the “Colonel” changed the name of the company at least a half-dozen -times during our association. To attempt to go into all the involved -reasons for these chameleon-like changes would simply add to the -confusion, and would, I feel, be boring. Let me, for the sake of -conciseness and, I hope, the reader’s illumination, list the six -changes:</p> - -<p>In 1932, it was <i>Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo</i>.</p> - -<p>From 1933 to 1936, it was <i>Monte Carlo Ballet Russe</i>.</p> - -<p>In 1937, it was <i>Colonel W. de Basil’s Ballet Russe</i>.</p> - -<p>In 1938, it was <i>Covent Garden Ballet Russe</i>.</p> - -<p>In 1939, it was <i>Educational Ballets</i>, Ltd.</p> - -<p>From 1940 until its demise, it was <i>Original Ballet Russe</i>.</p> - -<p>I have said earlier that the alliance between René Blum and de Basil was -foredoomed to failure. The split between them came in 1936, both as a -result of incompatibility and of de Basil’s preoccupation with the -United States to the exclusion of any Monte Carlo interest. Blum had a -greater interest in Monte Carlo, with which, to be sure, he had a -contract. So it was not surprising that René Blum organized a new Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo, with Michel Fokine as choreographer.</p> - -<p>De Basil and his methods became increasingly aggravating. His chicanery, -his eternal battling, above all, his overweening obsession about the -size of his name in the display advertising, were sometimes almost -unbearable. He carried a pocket-rule with him and would go about cities -measuring the words “Col. W. de Basil.” Now electric light letters vary -in size in the various cities, and there is no way of changing them -without having new letters made or purchased at considerable expense and -trouble. I remember a scene in Detroit, where de Basil became so -obnoxious that the company<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_117">{117}</a></span> manager and I climbed to the roof of the -theatre and took down the sign with our own hands, in order to save us -from further annoyance that day.</p> - -<p>All of this accumulated irritation added up to an increasing conviction -that life was too short to continue this sort of thing indefinitely, -despite my love for and my interest and faith in ballet both as an art -and as a popular form of entertainment.</p> - -<p>As I have said, Leonide Massine’s difficulties and relations with de -Basil were becoming so strained that each performance became an ordeal. -I never knew when an explosion might occur. There were many points of -difference between Massine and de Basil. The chief bone of contention -was the matter of artistic direction. Massine’s contract with de Basil -was approaching its expiration date. De Basil was badgering him to sign -a new one. Massine steadfastly refused to negotiate unless de Basil -would assure him, in the contract, the title and powers of Artistic -Director. De Basil as steadfastly refused, and insisted on retaining the -powers of artistic direction for himself.</p> - -<p>There was, as is always the case in Russian Ballet, a good deal of -side-taking. Granted that, for his purposes, de Basil’s insistence on -keeping all controls over his company in his own hands, had a point. But -let us also regard the issue from the point of view of ability and -knowledge, the prime qualifications for the post. From the portrait I -have given, the reader will gather the extent of the “Colonel’s” -qualifications. This would seem to be the time and place for a sketch of -Leonide Massine, as I know him.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>One day there must be a book written about Massine. Not that there is -not already a considerable literature dealing with him; but there is yet -to appear a work that has done him anything like justice. For me to -attempt more than a line drawing would be presumptuous and manifestly -unjust; but a sketch is demanded.</p> - -<p>Leonide Massine was born in Moscow in 1894. He graduated from the Moscow -Imperial School in 1912. It was a year later that Diaghileff, visiting -Moscow, was taken by Poliakov, the famous Moscow dramatic critic, to see -a play at the Ostrovsky Theatre. It happened that Massine was appearing -in the play in the role of a servant. There is no record as to what -Diaghileff thought of the play or the performance. The one fact that -emerges from this chance evening Diaghileff spent at a theatre is that -he was impressed by the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_118">{118}</a></span> manner in which the unknown boy, Massine, -carried a tray. Diaghileff asked Poliakov to take him back-stage and -introduce him to the talented young mime.</p> - -<p>Artistically, Diaghileff was in the process of moving onward from the -exclusively Russian tradition that was represented by Benois, Bakst, -Stravinsky, and Fokine. He was moving towards a greater -internationalism, a broader cosmopolitanism. He was in need of a -creative personality who would carry forward this wider concept. -Diaghileff’s intuition told him this seventeen-year-old boy with the -enormous brown eyes was the person. Diaghileff took Massine from Moscow -into his company and fashioned him into a present-day Pygmalion. -Diaghileff took over the boy’s artistic education. As part of a -deliberate plan, Diaghileff pushed a willing pupil into close contact -with the world of modern painting and music, with the finest minds of -the period. Picasso, Larionov, Stravinsky, and de Falla became his -mentors; libraries, museums, concert halls, his classrooms. The result -was a great cosmopolitan choreographer, perhaps the greatest living -today.</p> - -<p>An American citizen, he will always have strong Russian roots. Some of -his best works are Russian ballets; but he is no slavish nationalist. He -is as much at home in the cultures of Italy, Scotland, or Spain. His was -a precocious genius, discovered by Diaghileff’s intuition. Massine began -at the top, and has remained there.</p> - -<p>Massine is difficult to know, for he is shy, and he has a great wall of -natural reserve that takes a long time to penetrate. Once penetrated, it -is possible to experience one of life’s greater satisfactions in the -conversation, the intelligence, the knowledge of the mature Massine. -Massine’s poise and sense of order never leave him. There is a -meticulousness about him and a neatness that indicate the possession of -an orderly mind. Everything he reads which he feels may be of even the -slightest value to him at some future time, he preserves in large -clipping-books. About him is a calm that is exceptional in a Russian—a -calm that is exceptional in any one associated with the dance, where the -habit is to shout as loudly as possible at the slightest provocation, or -no provocation at all, and to become violently excited and agitated over -the most unimportant things. There is about him none of the superficial -“temperament” too often assumed to be the prerogative of artists. He has -a sharp sense of humor; but it is a sense of humor that is keen and dry. -His wit can be sharp and extremely cutting. He has not always been<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_119">{119}</a></span> -loved by his associates; but very few of them have ever really known -him.</p> - -<p>Filled with fire, energy, enthusiasm, his constant desire is to build -something better.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, he still dances, as no one else, the Miller in <i>The -Three-Cornered Hat</i> and the Can Can Dancer in <i>La Boutique Fantasque</i>. -Personally, I prefer only Massine in the roles he has created for -himself. No other dancer can approach him in these.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned his long sojourn at the Roxy Theatre, in New York. -Under the conditions imposed—a new work to be staged weekly, to dance -four times a day—masterpieces were obviously impossible; but the work -he did was of vast importance in building a dance public in New York.</p> - -<p>There are those today who chide Massine for his all too frequent -re-creations of his old pieces, and lay it to Massine’s obsession with -money. It is true, Massine does have a concern for money. But, after -all, he has a wife, two growing children, and other responsibilities. -However, I do not believe finance is the sole reason, and I, for one, -wish he would not be eternally reproducing his old works. <i>Le Beau -Danube</i> will live forever as one of the finest <i>genre</i> works of all -time. But it must be properly done. I remember, to my sorrow, seeing a -recent production of the <i>Danube</i> Massine staged in Paris, with Roland -Petit—with a company of only fourteen dancers. Further comment is not -required.</p> - -<p>I have a deep and abiding affection for Leonide Massine as a person—an -affection that is very deep and real. As an artist, I believe he is -still the greatest individual personality in ballet today—a -choreographer of deep knowledge, imagination, and ability.</p> - -<p>The composer of some sixty-odd ballets, it is the most imposing record -in modern ballet’s history, perfectly amazing productivity. No one but -himself is capable of restoring them. When produced or restaged without -his fine hand, they are a shambles.</p> - -<p>I should like to offer my friend, Leonide Massine, a hope that springs -from my heart. I can only urge him, for his own good and for the good of -ballet which needs him, to rest for a time on his beautiful island in -the Mediterranean and to spend the time there in study and reflection, -crystallizing his ideas. Then he will bring to us new and striking -creations that will come like a refreshing breeze clearing the murky -atmosphere of much of our contemporary ballet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_120">{120}</a></span> scene. If Massine would -only relax his constant drive and follow my suggestion, the real Massine -would emerge.</p> - -<p>After a summer on his island, he gave us one of his most recent -creations (1952), an Umbrian Passion Play, <i>Laudes Evangelli</i>, to -religious music of the Middle Ages. An interesting side-light on it is -that the very first ballet he had in mind at the beginning of the -Diaghileff association was based on the same idea.</p> - -<p>At the height of his maturity, there is no indication of age in Massine. -Age, after all, is merely a question of how old one feels. I remember, -in the later days of his ballet, shortly before his death, Diaghileff -was planning a special gala performance. At a conference of his staff, -he suggested inviting Pavlova to appear. Some of his advisers countered -the proposal with the suggestion that Pavlova was too old. My reply was -brief and to the point.</p> - -<p>“Pavlova will never age,” I said. “Some people are old at twenty. But -Pavlova, never; for genius never looks at the calendar.”</p> - -<p>What was true of Pavlova, is equally true of Leonide Massine.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>The growth, the development, and the appreciation of ballet in America -are the result of a number of things, both individually and in -combination. There may exist a variety of opinions on the subject, but -one thing, I know, is certain: the present state of ballet in America is -not the result of chance. In 1933 I had signed a contract with de Basil -to bring ballet to America; yet there was an element of chance involved -in that my publicity director, vacationing in Europe, saw a performance -of the de Basil company, and spontaneously cabled me an expression of -his enthusiasm. Since this employee was not a balletomane in any sense -of the word, his message served to intensify my conviction that then was -the time to go forward with my determination to follow my intuition. -Here ends any element of chance.</p> - -<p>The basic repertoire of the first years was an extension of the -Diaghileff artistic policies. The repertoire included not only revivals -from the Diaghileff repertoire, but also new, forward-looking creations. -I was certain that a sound and orthodox repertoire was an essential for -establishing a genuine ballet audience in this country.</p> - -<p>In 1933, there was no ballet audience. It was something that had to be -created and developed through every medium possible. I had a two-fold -responsibility—because I loved ballet with a love that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_121">{121}</a></span> amounted to a -passion, and because I had a tremendous financial burden which I carried -single-handed, without the aid of any Maecenas; I had to make ballet -successful; in doing so, willy-nilly I had the responsibility of forming -a taste where no aesthetic existed.</p> - -<p>For two decades I have had criticism levelled at me from certain places, -criticism directed chiefly at my policies in ballet; I have been -criticized for my insistence on certain types of ballets in the -repertoires of the companies I have managed, and for my belief in -adaptations and varying applications of what is known as the “star” -system. The only possible answer is that I have been proven right. No -other system has succeeded in bringing people to ballet or in bringing -ballet to the people.</p> - -<p>It will not be out of place at this time to note the repertoire of the -de Basil company at the time of the breakdown of the relations between -Massine and de Basil, which may be said to be the period of the Massine -artistic direction and influence on the de Basil companies, from 1933 to -1937.</p> - -<p>There were, if my computation is correct, and I have checked the matter -with some care, a total of forty works, with thirty-four of them -actively in the repertoire. Of these, there were two sound classics -stemming from the Imperial Russian Ballet, creations by Marius Petipa -and Lev Ivanoff: <i>Swan Lake</i>, in the one-act abbreviation; and <i>Aurora’s -Wedding</i>, the last <i>divertissement</i> act of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> or <i>The -Sleeping Princess</i>, both, of course, to the music of Tchaikowsky. There -were three Russian works, i.e., ballets on Russian subjects: -Stravinsky’s <i>Petroushka</i>; the <i>Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor</i>; and -<i>Le Coq d’Or</i>, a purely balletic and entertaining spectacle, with the -Rimsky-Korsakoff music rearranged for ballet by Tcherepnine. All of the -foregoing were by Michel Fokine. Eight other Fokine works were included, -all originally produced by him for Diaghileff: three, which might be -called exotic works—<i>Cléopâtre</i>, to the music of Arensky and others; -<i>Thamar</i>, to the music of Balakireff; and <i>Schéhérazade</i>, to the -Rimsky-Korsakoff tone-poem. Five ballets typifying the Romantic -Revolution: Stravinsky’s <i>Firebird</i>; <i>Carnaval</i> and <i>Papillons</i>, both by -Robert Schumann; <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>, to the familiar Weber score; -that greatest of all romantic works, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, the Chopin -“romantic reverie.”</p> - -<p>There were two works by George Balanchine: <i>Le Cotillon</i> and <i>La -Concurrence</i>, the former to music by Chabrier, the latter to music by -Auric. A third Balanchine work, <i>Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme</i>, was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_122">{122}</a></span> -necessarily dropped from the repertoire because the costumes were -destroyed by fire.</p> - -<p>The largest contributor by far to the de Basil repertoire was Massine -himself. No less than seventeen of the thirty-four works regularly -presented, that is, fifty per-cent, were by this prodigious creator. -Eight of these were originally staged by Massine for Diaghileff; two -were revivals of works he produced for Count Etienne de Beaumont, in -Paris, in 1932. Seven were original creations for the de Basil company. -The Diaghileff creations, in revival—in the order of their first -making—were: <i>The Midnight Sun</i>, to music from Rimsky-Korsakoff’s <i>The -Snow Maiden</i>; <i>Russian Folk Tales</i>, music by Liadov; The <i>Good-Humored -Ladies</i>, to the Scarlatti-Tommasini score; Manuel de Falla’s <i>The -Three-Cornered Hat</i>; <i>The Fantastic Toyshop</i>, to Rossini melodies; -George Auric’s <i>Les Matelots: Cimarosiana</i>; Vittorio Rieti’s <i>The Ball</i>.</p> - -<p>The two Beaumont works: <i>Le Beau Danube</i>, and the Boccherini <i>Scuola di -Ballo</i>.</p> - -<p>The creations for the de Basil company: the three symphonic -ballets—<i>Les Présages</i>, (Tchaikowsky’s Fifth); <i>Choreartium</i>, (Brahms’s -Fourth); <i>La Symphonie Fantastique</i>, (Berlioz). Also <i>Children’s Games</i> -(Bizet); <i>Beach</i> (Jean Francaix); <i>Union Pacific</i> (Nicholas Nabokoff); -and <i>Jardin Public</i> (Dukelsky).</p> - -<p>Two other choreographers round out the list. The young David Lichine -contributed four; Bronislava Nijinska, two. The Lichine works: -Tchaikowsky’s <i>Francesca da Rimini</i> and <i>La Pavillon</i>, to Borodin’s -music for strings, arranged by Antal Dorati. The others, produced in -Europe, were so unsuccessful I could not bring them to America: -<i>Nocturne</i>, a slight work utilising some of Mendelssohn’s <i>Midsummer -Night’s Dream</i> music, and <i>Les Imaginaires</i>, to a score by George Auric.</p> - -<p>The Nijinska works: <i>The Hundred Kisses</i>, to a commissioned score by -Baron Frederic d’Erlanger; the <i>Danses Slaves et Tsiganes</i>, from the -Dargomijhky opera <i>Roussalka</i>; and a revival of that great -Stravinsky-Nijinska work, <i>Les Noces</i>, which, for practical reasons, I -was able to give only at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York.</p> - -<p>The following painters and designers collaborated on the scenery and -costumes: Oliver Messel, Cecil Beaton, Etienne de Beaumont, Nathalie -Gontcharova, Korovin, Pierre Hugo, Jean Lurçat, Albert Johnson, Irene -Sharaff, Eugene Lourie, Raoul Dufy, André Masson, Joan Miro, Polunin, -Chirico, José Maria Sert, Pruna,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_123">{123}</a></span> André Derain, Picasso, Bakst, -Larionoff, Alexandre Benois, Nicholas Roerich, Mstislav Doboujinsky.</p> - -<p>For the sake of the record, as the company recedes into the mists of -time, let me list its chief personnel during this period: Leonide -Massine, ballet-master and chief male dancer; Alexandra Danilova, Irina -Baronova, Tamara Toumanova, Tatiana Riabouchinska, <i>ballerinas</i>; Lubov -Tchernicheva, Olga Morosova, Nina Verchinina, Lubov Rostova, Tamara -Grigorieva, Eugenia Delarova, Vera Zorina, Sono Osato, Leon Woizikovsky, -David Lichine, Yurek Shabalevsky, Paul Petroff, André Eglevsky, and -Roman Jasinsky, soloists; Serge Grigorieff, <i>régisseur</i>.</p> - -<p>In our spreading of the gospel of ballet, emphasis was laid on the -following: Ballet, repertoire, personnel. Since there were no “stars” -whose names at the time carried any box-office weight or had any -recognizable association, the concentration was on the “baby -ballerinas,” Baronova, Toumanova, Riabouchinska, all of whom were young -dancers of fine training and exceptional talents. They grew as artists -before our eyes. They also grew up. They had an unparalleled success. -They also had their imperfections, but it was a satisfaction to watch -their progress.</p> - -<p>Ballet was by way of being established in America’s cultural and -entertainment life by the end of the fourth de Basil season. On the -financial side, that fourth season’s gross business passed the million -dollar mark; artistically, deterioration had set in. With the feud -between Massine and de Basil irreconcilable, there was no sound artistic -policy possible, no authoritative direction. The situation was as if two -rival directors would have stood on either side of the proscenium arch, -one countermanding every order given by the other. The personnel of the -company was lining up in support of one or the other; factionism was -rampant. Performances suffered.</p> - -<p>Massine, meanwhile realizing the hopelessness of the situation so far as -he was concerned, cast about for possible interested backers in a -balletic venture of his own, where he could exercise his own talents and -authority. He succeeded in interesting a number of highly solvent ballet -lovers, chief among whom was Julius Fleischmann, of Cincinnati.</p> - -<p>Just what Fleischmann’s interest in ballet may have been, or what -prompted it, I have not been able to determine. At any rate, it was a -fresh, new interest. A man of culture and sensitivity, he was something -of a dilettante and a cosmopolitan. When he was at<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_124">{124}</a></span> home, it was on his -estate in Cincinnati. His business interests, i.e., the sources that -provided him with the means to pursue his artistic occupations, required -no attention on his part.</p> - -<p>Together with other persons of means and leisure, a corporation was -formed under the name Universal Art. The corporation turned over the -artistic direction, both in name and fact, to Massine, and he was on his -own to choose the policy, the repertoire, and the personnel for a new -company.</p> - -<p>Ballet in America was on the horns of a dilemma. And so was I.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_125">{125}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_8">8.</a> Revolution and Counter-revolution: Leonide Massine and the New Ballet Russe De Monte Carlo</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span><b>N</b> order that the reader may have a sense of continuity, I feel he -should be supplied with a bit of the background and a brief fill-in on -what had been happening meanwhile at Monte Carlo.</p> - -<p>I have pointed out that de Basil’s preoccupation with London and America -had soon left his collaborator, René Blum, without a ballet company with -which to fulfil his contractual obligations to the Principality of -Monaco. The break between the two came in 1936, when Blum formed a new -company that he called simply Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo.</p> - -<p>Blum had the great wisdom and fine taste to engage Michel Fokine as -choreographer. A company, substantial in size, had been engaged, the -leading personnel numbering among its principals some fine dancers known -to American audiences. Nana Gollner, the American <i>ballerina</i>, was one -of the leading figures. Others included Vera Nemtchinova, Natalie -Krassovska, Anatole Ouboukhoff, Anatole Vilzak, Jean Yasvinsky, André -Eglevsky, and Michel Panaieff. A repertoire, sparked by Fokine -creations, was in the making.</p> - -<p>Back in America, the prime mover in the financial organization of the -new Massine company was Sergei I. Denham. It is hardly<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_126">{126}</a></span> necessary to add -that Denham and de Basil had little in common or that they were, in -fact, arch-enemies.</p> - -<p>Denham had no more previous knowledge of or association with ballet than -de Basil; actually much less. I have been unable to discover the real -source of Denham’s interest in ballet. Born Sergei Ivanovich -Dokouchaieff, in Russia, the son of a merchant, he had escaped the -Revolution by way of China. His career in the United States, before -ballet in the persons of Leonide Massine and Julius Fleischmann swam -into his ken, had been of a mercantile nature, in one business venture -or another, including a stint as an automobile salesman, and another as -a sort of bank manager, none of them connected with the arts, but all of -them bringing him into fringe relations with the substantially solvent.</p> - -<p>No sooner did he find himself in the atmosphere of ballet than he, too, -became infected with Diaghileffitis, a disease that, apparently, attacks -them all, sooner or later.</p> - -<p>It is one of the strange phenomena of ballet I have never been able to -understand. Why is it, I ask myself, that a former merchant, an -ex-policeman, or an heir to carpet factory fortunes, for some reason all -gravitate to ballet, to create and perpetuate “hobby” businesses? I have -not yet discovered the answer. As in the case of Denham, so with the -others. Lacking knowledge or trained taste, people like these no sooner -find themselves in ballet than down they come with the Diaghileffitis -attack.</p> - -<p>Russian intrigue quickened its tempo, increased its intensity. Denham, -with the smooth, soft suavity of a born organizer, drove about the -country in his battered little car, often accompanied by his niece, -Tatiana Orlova, who was later to become the fourth Mrs. Massine, -ostensibly to try to attract more backers, more money. More often than -not, he followed the exact itinerary of the de Basil tour. Then he would -insinuate himself back-stage, place a chair for himself in the wings -during the performances of the de Basil company, and there negotiate -with dancers in an effort to get them to leave de Basil and join the new -company. At the same time, he would exhibit what can only be described -as a deplorable rudeness to de Basil, whose company it was.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, de Basil increased and intensified his machinations -to try to induce me to again sign with him. Not only did he step up his -own personal barrage, but the intrigues of his associates were deepened. -These associates were now three in number. Russian intrigue was having -an extended field day. On the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_127">{127}</a></span> one hand, there was Denham intriguing for -all he was worth against de Basil. On the other, de Basil’s three -henchmen were intriguing against Denham, against me, against each other, -and, I suspect, against de Basil. It was a sorry spectacle.</p> - -<p>It was the sort of thing you come upon in tales of Balkan intrigue. The -cast of this one included a smooth and suave Russian ex-merchant, bland -and crafty, easy of smile, oozing “culture,” with an attractive -dancer-niece as part-time assistant, and a former Diaghileff <i>corps de -ballet</i> dancer, a member of de Basil’s company, as his spy and -henchwoman-at-large. Arrayed against this trio was the de Basil quartet: -the “Colonel” himself, and his three henchmen. The first was Ignat Zon, -a slightly obese organizer and theatre promoter from Moscow and -Petrograd, who, after the Revolution, had turned up in Paris, where he -allied himself with Prince Zeretelli, de Basil’s former Caucasian -partner. Zon was not interested in ballet; he was a commission merchant, -nothing more. The other two were a comic conspiratorial pair. One was a -Bulgarian lawyer, who had lived for some time in Paris, Jacques Lidji, -by name. The other was an undersized, tubby little hanger-on, Alexander -Philipoff, a fantastic little man with no experience of theatre or -ballet, who neither spoke nor understood a word of anything save -Russian. Philipoff certainly was not more than five feet tall, chubby, -tubby, rotund, with a beaming face and an eternally suspicious eye. The -contrast between him and the tall, gaunt de Basil was ludicrous. -Privately they were invariably referred to as Mutt and Jeff. Philipoff -constantly sought for motives (bad) behind every word uttered, behind -every facial expression, every gesture.</p> - -<p>Both men were overbearing, and rather pathetic, at that. Neither of the -pair could be called theatre people by any stretch of the imagination. -Lidji, the lawyer, was quite as futile in his own way as Philipoff. As a -pair of characters they might have been mildly amusing in <i>The Spring -Maid</i> type of operetta. As collaborators on behalf of ballet, they were -a trial and a bloody bore. Lidji, incidentally, was but one of de -Basil’s lawyers; others came and went in swift procession. But Lidji -lasted longer than some, and, for a time, acted as a sort of -under-director, as did Philipoff. Since Lidji was not, at the time, an -American citizen, he was unable to engage in the practice of law in the -States. When he was not otherwise engaged in exercises of intrigue, -Lidji would busy himself writing voluminous reports and setting down -mountains of notes.</p> - -<p>I am convinced that the reason de Basil had so many legal<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_128">{128}</a></span> advisers was -that he never paid them. Soon one or another would quit, and yet another -would turn up. I have a theory that, no matter how poor one may be, one -should always pay one’s doctor and one’s lawyer; each can help one out -of trouble.</p> - -<p>My personal problem was relatively simple. With the Massine group -raiding de Basil’s company, which of the dancers would remain with the -“Colonel”? This was problem number one. The other was, with de Basil -dropping Massine, who was the creator and the creative force behind the -de Basil company and who would, moreover, be likely to take a number of -important artists from de Basil to his own company, what would de Basil -have in the way of playable repertoire, artists, new creations?</p> - -<p>To annoyance and aggravation, now were added perplexity, puzzlement.</p> - -<p>It was at about this time, on one of my European visits, I had had -extended discussions with René Blum regarding my bringing him and his -new company to America. I had seen numerous performances given by his -company during their London season, and I had been impressed by their -quality.</p> - -<p>During this period of puzzlement on my part, Sergei Denham came to me to -try to interest me in the new Fleischmann venture. Denham assured me he -had ample financial backing for the new company. My chief concern at -this time was the question of the artistic direction of the new -organization. I told Denham that if he would secure by contract the -services of Leonide Massine in that capacity, I would be interested in -taking over the management of the company, and signed a letter to that -effect.</p> - -<p>Subsequently, the late Halsey Malone, acting as counsel for Universal -Art, the corporate title of the Fleischmann group, secured Massine’s -signature and a detailed contract was drawn up.</p> - -<p>As matters stood, I had one more season to go with my contractual -arrangements with de Basil, and Massine had the better part of another -season with the former’s company.</p> - -<p>Massine’s contract with de Basil expired while the company was playing -in San Francisco, and the two parted company, with Massine, Danilova, -and others leaving for Monte Carlo.</p> - -<p>That repertoire consisted of five Fokine-Diaghileff revivals: -<i>Carnaval</i>, <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Prince Igor</i>, and -<i>Schéhérazade</i>.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_014" style="width: 318px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_01a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_01a.jpg" width="318" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Valente</i></p> - -<p>Anton Dolin in <i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_015" style="width: 530px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_01b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_01b.jpg" width="530" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo: Alexandra Danilova as the Glove Seller -and Leonide Massine as the Peruvian in <i>Gaîté Parisienne</i></p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Valente</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_016" style="width: 387px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_02.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_02.jpg" width="387" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Maurice Seymour</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Tamara Toumanova</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_017" style="width: 408px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_03.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_03.jpg" width="408" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="cpt"><i>Maurice Seymour</i></p></div> - -<p>Alicia Markova</p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_018" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_04.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_04.jpg" width="550" height="436" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Valente</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Scene from Antony Tudor’s <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>: Hugh Laing, Antony -Tudor, Dmitri Romanoff, Lucia Chase, Alicia Markova</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_019" style="width: 389px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_04a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_04a.jpg" width="389" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Ballet Theatre: Jerome Robbins and Janet Reed in <i>Fancy Free</i></p></div> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Valente</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_020" style="width: 414px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_05.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_05.jpg" width="414" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Gordon Anthony</i></p> - -<p>Ninette de Valois</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_021" style="width: 384px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_06a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_06a.jpg" width="384" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Angus McBean</i></p> - -<p>David Webster</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_022" style="width: 331px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_06b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_06b.jpg" width="331" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Constant Lambert</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_023" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_07a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_07a.jpg" width="550" height="366" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="cpt"><i>Magnum</i></p> - -<p>S. Hurok, Margot Fonteyn, Robert Helpmann</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_024" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_07b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_07b.jpg" width="550" height="389" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Irina Baronova and Children</p> -<p class="cpt"><i>Star Photo</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_025" style="width: 545px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_08a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_08a.jpg" width="545" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Felix Fonteyn</i></p> -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Following the premiere of -<i>Sylvia</i>—Frederick Ashton, Margot Fonteyn, S. Hurok</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_026" style="width: 364px;"> -<a href="images/i_128fp_08b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_128fp_08b.jpg" width="364" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>S. Hurok and Margot Fonteyn</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Felix Fonteyn</i></p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_129">{129}</a></span></p> - -<p>There was a production of Delibes’s <i>Coppélia</i>, staged by Nicholas -Zvereff; the <i>Swan Lake</i> second act; a version of <i>The Nutcracker</i>, by -Boris Romanoff; and <i>Aubade</i>, to the music of Francis Poulenc, staged by -George Balanchine.</p> - -<p>Importantly, there were several new Fokine creations: <i>L’Epreuve -d’Amour</i>, a charming “<i>chinoiserie</i>,” to the music of Mozart; <i>Don -Juan</i>, a balletic retelling of the romantic tale to a discovered score -by Gluck; <i>Les Eléments</i>, to the music of Bach; <i>Jota Argonesa</i>, a work -first done by Fokine in Petrograd, in 1916; <i>Igroushki</i>, originally -staged by Fokine for the Ziegfeld Roof in New York, in 1921; <i>Les -Elfes</i>, the Mendelssohn work originally done in New York, in 1924. The -two other Fokine works were yet another version of <i>The Nutcracker</i>, and -de Falla’s <i>Love, the Sorcerer</i>, both of which were later re-done by -Boris Romanoff.</p> - -<p>Painters and designers included André Derain, Mariano Andreu, Nathalie -Gontcharova, Dmitri Bouchene, Mstislav Doboujinsky, and Cassandre.</p> - -<p>Massine’s preparations went ahead apace. In Boston there were intensive -researches and concentrated work on the score for what was destined to -be one of the most popular works in modern ballet, <i>Gaîté Parisienne</i>. -In a large room in the Copley Plaza Hotel were assembled all the extant -scores of Offenbach operettas, procured from the Boston Public Library -and the Harvard Library. There were two pianists, Massine, Efrem Kurtz, -the conductor, copyists. The basic musical material for the ballet was -selected there, under Massine’s supervision. Later, in Paris, it was put -together and re-orchestrated by Manuel Rosenthal.</p> - -<p>The de Basil company finished its American season and sailed for Europe. -Meanwhile the deal was consummated between Fleischmann, Massine, Denham -and Blum, and Universal Art became the proprietor of the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo. Before the deal was finally settled, however, Fokine had -left Blum and had sold his services to de Basil, whose company was -playing a European tour. Massine was the new artistic director of the -new Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, while Fokine had switched to de Basil.</p> - -<p>Massine was now busily engaged in building up the dancing personnel of -his new organization. On the distaff side, he had Alexandra Danilova, -Eugenia Delarova, Tamara Toumanova, Lubov Rostova, from the de Basil -company. From the Blum company he took Natalie Krassovska, Jeanette -Lauret, Milada Mladova, Mia<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_130">{130}</a></span> Slavenska, Michel Panieff, Roland Guerard, -Marc Platoff, Simon Semenoff, Jean Yasvinsky, George Zoritch, and Igor -Youskevitch, as principals. Of the group, it is of interest to note that -three—Mladova, Guerard, and Platoff—were American. In addition, -Massine engaged the English <i>ballerina</i>, Alicia Markova, then quite -unknown to American audiences, although a first lady of British Ballet; -Nini Theilade of plastic grace; and the English Frederick Franklin, yet -another Massine discovery. Serge Lifar, the last Diaghileff dancing -discovery and the leading dancer and spirit of the ballet at the Paris -Opera, was added.</p> - -<p>The new company was potentially a strong one. I was pleased. But I was -anything but pleased at the prospect of the two companies becoming -engaged in what must be the inevitable: a cut-throat competition between -them. The split, to be sure, had weakened the de Basil organization; the -new Monte Carlo company had an infinitely better balance in personnel. -In some respects, the Massine company was superior; but de Basil had a -repertoire that required only careful rehearsing, correcting, and some -refurbishing of settings and costumes. With Massine’s departure, David -Lichine had stepped into the first dancer roles. Irina Baronova had -elected to remain with de Basil, in direct competition with Toumanova; -others choosing to remain with the old company included Riabouchinska, -Grigorieva, Morosova, Verchinina, Tchernicheva, Osato, Shabalevsky, -Petroff, Lazovsky, and Jasinsky.</p> - -<p>I envisaged, for the good of ballet and its future, one big ballet -company, embracing the talents and the repertoires of both. I genuinely -feared the co-existence of the two companies, being certain that the -United States and Canada were not yet ready to support two companies -simultaneously. I pleaded with both to merge their interests, bury their -differences. I devoted all my time and energy in a concentrated effort -to bring about this desired end. The problems were complicated; but I -was certain that if there was a genuine desire on both sides, and good -will, a deal would be worked out. It blew hot. It blew cold. As time -went on, with no tangible results visible, my hopes diminished. It was -not only the financial arrangements between the two companies that -presented grave obstacles; there were formidable personality -differences. The negotiations continued and were long drawn-out. Then, -one day, the clouds suddenly thinned and, to my complete surprise, we -appeared to be making progress. Almost miraculously, so it seemed, the -attorneys for Uni<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_131">{131}</a></span>versal Art and de Basil sat down to draw up the -preliminary papers for the agreement to agree to merge. Through all this -trying period there was helpful assistance from Prince Serge Obolensky -and Baron “Nikki” Guinsberg.</p> - -<p>At last the day arrived when the agreement was ready for joint approval, -clause by clause, by both parties to the merger, with myself holding a -watching brief as the prospective manager of the eagerly awaited Big -Ballet. This meeting went on for hours and hours. It opened in the -offices of Washburn, Malone and Perkins, the Universal Art attorneys, in -West Forty-fourth Street, early in the afternoon. By nine o’clock at -night endless haggling, ravelled tempers, recurring deadlocks had, I -thought reached their limit.</p> - -<p>Food saved that situation. Prince Obolensky and my attorney, Elias -Lieberman, fetched hamburgers. But, before they could be consumed, we -were evicted from the offices of the attorneys by the last departing -elevator man, who announced the building was being closed for the night, -and the conference, hamburgers and all, was transferred to the St. Regis -Hotel. At four o’clock the next morning, a verbal agreement was reached. -The deed was done. I felt sure that now we had, with this combination of -all the finest balletic forces extant in the Western World, the best as -well as the biggest.</p> - -<p>The “Colonel” departed for Berlin to join his company which was playing -an engagement there. He was to have signed the agreement before sailing, -but, procrastinator that he was, he slipped away without affixing his -signature. Nor had he authorized his attorney to sign for him, and it -took a flock of wireless messages and cables to extract from him the -authority the attorney required. At last it came.</p> - -<p>I had never been happier. Mrs. Hurok and I got ourselves aboard the -<i>Normandie</i> for our annual summer solstice in Europe. On board we found -the Julius Fleischmanns. At dinner the first night out, our joint toast -was in thanks for the merger and to the Biggest and Best of all Ballets.</p> - -<p>Although Fleischmann showed me one mildly disturbing wireless message, I -had five days of peace. It was not destined to continue. When I stepped -down from the boat train at London’s Waterloo Station, I was greeted by -the news that the merger was off.</p> - -<p>The “Colonel” had changed his mind. Massine also had become resentful at -a division of authority. Confusion reigned. As an immediate result, -almost overnight de Basil lost control and the authori<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_132">{132}</a></span>tative voice in -his own company. Altogether, it was a complicated business.</p> - -<p>A new holding company, calling itself Educational Ballets, Ltd., headed -by Baron “Freddy” d’Erlanger, banker and composer, whose bank had a -large interest in the de Basil company, had taken over the operation of -the company, and had placed a new pair of managing directors in charge: -Victor Dandré, Anna Pavlova’s husband and manager, jointly with “Gerry” -Sevastianov, the husband of Irina Baronova. The Royal Opera House, -Covent Garden, which was to have been the scene of the debut of the Big -Merged Company, had been taken for the original organization.</p> - -<p>It was all a bad dream, I felt. This impression was intensified a -hundred fold when I sat in the High Court in London’s Temple Bar, as -be-wigged counsel and robed judge performed an autopsy on my dream -ballet. Here, with all the trappings of legality, but no genuine -understanding, a little tragicomedy was being played out. Educational -Ballets, Ltd., announced the performance of all the Massine ballets in -the de Basil repertoire. This spurred Massine into immediate legal -action.</p> - -<p>Massine went into court, not for damages, not for money, but for a -declaratory judgment to determine, once for all, his own rights in his -own creations. The court’s decision, after days of forensic argument, -conducted with that understatement and soft but biting insult that is -the prerogative of British learned counsel, was a piece of legalistic -hair-splitting. Under British law, unlike the American, choreographic -rights are protected. Would that the choreographic artist had a like -protection under our system! By virtue of having presented the works in -public performance, the court decided that de Basil had the right to -continue such presentation: any works Massine had created as an employee -of de Basil, while receiving a salary from him, Massine could not -reproduce for a period of five years. Only the three works he had -originally created for Diaghileff: <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i>, <i>The -Fantastic Toy-Shop</i>, and <i>Le Beau Danube</i>, could be reproduced by him -for himself or for any other company.</p> - -<p>The court action was a fortnight’s news-making wonder in London. Ballet -was not helped by it. Ballet belongs on the stage, not in the musty -atmosphere of the court room. De Basil and his lawyers, Massine and his -lawyers, Universal Art and their lawyers. It is a silly business. <i>X</i> -brings an action against <i>Y</i> over an alleged breach of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_133">{133}</a></span> a theatrical -employment contract. Let us assume that <i>X</i> represents the employer, <i>Y</i> -the artist-employee. Let us assume further that <i>X</i> wins the action. <i>Y</i> -must continue in the employment of <i>X</i>. What, I ask you, is less -satisfactory than an artist who is compelled by a court judgment to -fulfil a contract? In ballet, the only persons who benefit in ballet -lawsuits are the learned counsel. Differences of opinion, personality -clashes are not healed by legal action; they are accentuated. Legal -actions of this sort are instituted usually in anger and bitterness. -When the legal decision is made, the final settlement adjudicated, the -bitterness remains.</p> - -<p>The merger off, my contract with Universal Art came into force. I was -committed to the management of a London season. Since the traditional -home of ballet, the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, had been preempted -by the old company, I took Old Drury, the historic Drury Lane Theatre, -whose history is as long, whose beauty is equally famous, whose seating -capacity is enormous.</p> - -<p>The two houses are two short blocks apart. The seasons were -simultaneous. Both were remarkably successful; both companies played to -packed houses nightly. Nightly I had my usual table at the Savoy Grill, -that famed London rendezvous of theatrical, musical, balletic, and -literary life. Nightly my table was crowded with the ebb and flow of -departing and arriving guests. The London summer, despite my -forebodings, was halcyon.</p> - -<p>De Basil, at this period, was not a part of this cosmopolitanism and -gaiety. Having been forced out of the control of his own company, at -least for the moment, he became a recluse in a tiny house in Shepherd’s -Market, typically biding his time in his true-to-form Caucasian manner, -reflecting on his victory, although it had been more Pyrrhic than -triumphant. We met for dinner in his band-box house, most of which time -I devoted to a final effort to effect a merger of the two companies. It -was a case of love’s labour lost, for the opposing groups were poles -apart.</p> - -<p>The summer wore on into the late English midsummer heat, when all London -takes itself hence. The original company’s season at Covent Carden -slowed down, came to a stop; and a fortnight later, we rang down our -final curtain at Drury Lane.</p> - -<p>Before leaving for Paris, en route home to New York, there was a bit of -straightening out to be done in London. The merger having failed to -jell, a bit of additional adjustment was necessary. In other words, -because of the changed situation, my contract with Universal<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_134">{134}</a></span> Art had to -be renegotiated. As in all matters balletic, it would seem, numerous -conferences were required; but the new contract was eventually -negotiated agreeably.</p> - -<p>Back in New York, the day of the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe opening -approached. There were the usual alarums and excursions, and others not -so usual. Markova, of course, was English. Moreover, she danced the -coveted role, the title part in <i>Giselle</i>. She had already made this -part quite personally something of her own. Her success in the role -during the Drury Lane season, where she had alternated the part with -Tamara Toumanova, had been conspicuous. Although the role was shared -between three <i>ballerinas</i>, Markova, Toumanova, and Slavenska, Massine -and I agreed that, since the opening performance in New York was so -important and because Markova was new to the country, it would provide -her with a magnificent opportunity for a debut; she should dance Giselle -that night.</p> - -<p>Factionism was rampant. Pressures of almost every sort were put upon -Massine to switch the opening night casting.</p> - -<p>A threat of possible violence caused me to take the precaution to have -detectives, disguised as stage-hands standing by; I eliminated the -trap-door and understage elevator used in this production as Giselle’s -grave, and gave instructions to have everything loose on the stage -fastened down. So literally were these orders carried out that even the -lilies Giselle has to pluck in the second act and toss to her Albrecht -while dancing as a ghost, were securely nailed to the stage floor. This -nearly caused a minor contretemps and what might have turned out to be a -ludicrous situation, when Markova had to rip them up by main force -before she could toss them to Serge Lifar, who was making his first New -York appearance with the company as Albrecht.</p> - -<p>Lifar’s brief association with the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe was not -a happy one for any of us, least of all for himself. He certainly did -not behave well. In my earlier book, <i>Impresario</i>, I dwelt quite fully -on certain aspects of his weird fantasies. There is no point in -repeating them. Always excitable, here in New York at that time Lifar -was unable to understand and realize he was not at the Paris Opera, -where his every word is law.</p> - -<p>Lifar’s fantastic behavior in New York before we shipped him back to -Paris was but an example of his lack of tact and his overwhelming -egoism. He proved to be a colossal headache; but I believe much of it -was due to a streak of self-dramatization in his nature, and a positive -delight he takes in being the central character, the focus of an -“incident.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_135">{135}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Under the influence of a genuine creative urge, Massine’s directions of -the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe for two seasons richly fulfilled the -promise it held at the company’s inception. The public grew larger each -season. At the same time, slowly, but none the less surely, that public -became, I believe, more understanding. The ballet public of America was -cutting its eye-teeth.</p> - -<p>It was during the early seasons that Massine added three more symphonic -ballets to the repertoire, with Beethoven’s <i>Seventh Symphony</i>; <i>Rouge -et Noir</i>, to the brilliant First Symphony of Dmitri Shostakovich; and -<i>Labyrinth</i>, a surrealist treatment of the Seventh Symphony of Franz -Schubert. Christian Bérard provided scenery and costumes for the first -of them; Henri Matisse, for the second; Salvador Dali, for the last. The -Shostakovich work was the most successful of the three. Regrettably, all -these symphonic ballets are lost to present-day audiences.</p> - -<p>The outstanding comedy success was <i>Gaîté Parisienne</i>, the Offenbach -romp, originally started in Boston before the company as such existed. -The most sensational work was Massine’s first surrealist ballet, -<i>Bacchanale</i>, to the Venusberg music from Wagner’s <i>Tannhauser</i>. A quite -fantastic spectacle, from every point of view, it was a Massine-Dali -joke, one that was less successful when the same combination tried to -repeat it in <i>Labyrinth</i>.</p> - -<p>There were lesser Massine works, produced under frantic pressure; -examples: <i>Saratoga</i>, an unhappy attempt to capture the American spirit -of the up-state New York spa, to a commissioned score by Jaromir -Weinberger; <i>The New Yorker</i>, which was certainly no American <i>Gaîté -Parisienne</i>, being Massine’s attempt to try to bring to balletic life -the characters, the atmosphere, and the perky humors of the popular -weekly magazine, all to a pastiche of George Gershwin’s music. A third -work was one of his last Monte Carlo Ballet Russe creations, -<i>Vienna—1814</i>, an evocation of the spirit of the Congress of Vienna, to -music by Carl Maria von Weber, orchestrated by Robert Russell Bennett.</p> - -<p><i>Bogatyri</i>, a colorful Russian spectacle, designed as a sort of -successor to Fokine’s <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>, had spectacular scenery and -costumes by Nathalie Gontcharova, and was a long and detailed work -utilising a movement of a Borodin string quartet and his Second -Symphony. In cooperation with Argentinita, Massine staged a quite -successful Spanish <i>divertissement</i> to Rimsky-Korsakoff’s <i>Capriccio -Espagnol</i>, using for it the set and costumes Mariano Andreu had designed -for Fokine’s <i>Jota Argonesa</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_136">{136}</a></span></p> - -<p>In summing up Massine’s creations for the new company, I have left his -most important contribution until the last. It was <i>St. Francis</i>, -originally done in our first season at London’s Drury Lane, where it was -known as <i>Noblissima Visione</i>. A collaboration between the composer, -Paul Hindemith, and Massine, it may be called one of Massine’s greatest -triumphs and one of his very finest works. The ballet, unfortunately, -was not popular with mass audiences; but it was work of deep and moving -beauty, with a ravishing musical score, magnificent scenery and costumes -by Pavel Tchelitcheff, and two great performances by Massine himself in -the title role, and Nini Theilade, as Poverty, the bride of St. Francis.</p> - -<p>For the record, let me note the other works that made up the Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo repertoire under my management: Massine’s -productions of <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i>, <i>The Fantastic Toy Shop</i>, and -<i>Le Beau Danube</i>. George Balanchine staged a revival of <i>Le Baiser de La -Fée</i> (<i>The Fairy’s Kiss</i>) and <i>Jeu de Cartes</i> (<i>Card Game</i>), both -Stravinsky works he had done before, and all borrowed from the American -Ballet. There was a new production of Delibes’s <i>Coppélia</i>, in a setting -by Pierre Roy; and the Fokine-Blum works I have mentioned before.</p> - -<p>I accepted as a new production a revival of Tchaikowsky’s <i>The -Nutcracker</i>, staged by Alexandra Fedorova, and a re-working of parts of -Tchaikowsky’s <i>Swan Lake</i>, also staged by Fedorova, under the title of -<i>The Magic Swan</i>.</p> - -<p>Three productions remain to be mentioned. One was <i>Icare</i>, staged only -at the Metropolitan Opera House in the first season, a graphic and -moving re-enactment of the Icarus legend, by Serge Lifar, to percussive -rhythms only. The second was Richard Rodgers’s first and only -exclusively ballet score, <i>Ghost Town</i>, a <i>genre</i> work dealing with the -California Gold Rush. It was the first choreographic job of a talented -young American character dancer, Marc Platoff, born Marcel Le Plat, in -Seattle. Not a work out of the top drawer, it was nevertheless a good -try for a young choreographer.</p> - -<p>The third work in this group is one I felt should have been given a -better chance. It was <i>Devil’s Holiday</i>, by Frederick Ashton, the -leading choreographer of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, and his first -all-balletic work to be seen on this side of the Atlantic. Done at the -opening of our 1939-1940 season, at the Metropolitan Opera House, under -the stress and strain of a hectic departure, and a hurried one, from -Europe after the outbreak of the war, it suffered as a conse<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_137">{137}</a></span>quence. In -settings and costumes by Eugene Berman, its score was a Tommasini -arrangement of Paganini works. Ashton had been able only partially to -rehearse the piece in Paris before the company made its getaway, -eventually to reach New York on the day of the Metropolitan opening, -after a difficult and circuitous crossing to avoid submarines. On -arrival, a number of the company were taken off to Ellis Island until we -could straighten out faulty visas and clarify papers. I am certain -<i>Devil’s Holiday</i> was one of Ashton’s most interesting creations; it -suffered because the creator was unable to complete it and, as a -consequence, America was never able to see it as its creator intended, -or at anything like its best.</p> - -<p>With the 1940-1941 season, deterioration had set in at the vitals of the -Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, Massine had exerted tremendous efforts. The -company he had created was a splendid one. But, as both leading dancer -and chief choreographer, he had no time to rest, no time to think. The -same sloughing off that took place with the de Basil company was now -becoming apparent in this one. There was a creaking in the vessel -proper, an obvious straining at the seams. The non-Massine productions -lacked freshness or any distinctive quality. There were defections among -some of the best artists. Massine was coming up against a repetition of -his de Basil association. Friction between Massine and Denham increased, -as the latter became more difficult.</p> - -<p>I could not be other than sad, for Massine had given of his best to -create and maintain a fine organization. He had been a shining example -to the others. The company had started on a high plane of -accomplishment; but it was impossible for Massine to continue under the -conditions that daily became less and less bearable. Heaven knows, the -“Colonel” had been difficult. But he had an instinct for the theatre, a -serious love for ballet, a broad experience, was a first-class -organizer, and an untiring, never ceasing, dynamic worker.</p> - -<p>Sergei Denham, by comparison, was a mere tyro at ballet direction, and -an amateur at that. But, amateur or not, he was convinced he had -inherited the talent, the knowledge, the taste of the late Serge -Diaghileff.</p> - -<p>I had not devoted twenty-eight years of hard, slogging work to the -building of good ballet in America to allow it to deteriorate into a -shambles because of the arbitrariness of another would-be Diaghileff.</p> - -<p>It was time for a change.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_138">{138}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_9">9.</a> What Price Originality? The Original Ballet Russe</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span><b>HE</b> condition of the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe in 1941 being as I have -described it, it became imperative for me to try to improve the -situation as best I could. It was a period of perplexity.</p> - -<p>The “Colonel,” once more installed in the driver’s seat of his company, -with its name now changed from Educational Ballets, Ltd., to the -Original Ballet Russe, had been enjoying an extended sojourn in -Australia and New Zealand, under the management of E. J. Tait.</p> - -<p>Although I knew deterioration had set in with the old de Basil -company—so much so that it had been one of the salient reasons for the -formation of the new Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, quite apart from the -recurring personality clashes—I was now faced with a deterioration in -the latter company, one that had occurred earlier in its history and -that was moving more swiftly: a galloping deterioration. As I watched -the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo company performances, I was acutely -conscious not only of this, but I saw disruption actively at work. The -dancers themselves were no longer interested. They day-dreamed of -Broadway musicals; they night-dreamed of the hills of Hollywood and film -contracts. Some were wistfully thinking in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_139">{139}</a></span> terms of their own little -concert groups. The structure was, to say the least, shaky.</p> - -<p>From the reports that reached me of the Original company’s success and -re-establishment in Australia, I sensed the possibility (and the hope) -that a rejuvenation had taken place. Apart from that, there had been new -works added to the repertoire, works I was eager to see and which I felt -would give the American ballet-goer a fresh interest, for that important -individual had every right to be a bit jaded with things as they were.</p> - -<p>Since I had taken the precaution to have the “exclusivity” clause -removed from my Universal Art contract, I was free to experiment. I -therefore arranged to bring de Basil and his Original Ballet Russe to -America from Australia. They arrived on the Pacific Coast, and we played -an engagement in Los Angeles, another in Chicago, yet another in Canada. -Then I brought them to New York.</p> - -<p>This was a season when the Metropolitan Opera House was not available -for ballet performances. Therefore, I took the Hollywood Theatre, on -Broadway, today rechristened the Mark Hellinger.</p> - -<p>I opened the season with a four weeks’ engagement of the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, followed immediately by the Original Ballet Russe, making a -consecutive period of about fifteen weeks of ballet at one house, -setting up a record of some sort for continuous ballet performances on -Broadway.</p> - -<p>Christmas intervened, and, following my usual custom, I gave a large -party at Sherry’s in honor of Mrs. Hurok’s birthday, which occurs on the -25th December, at which were gathered the entire personnel of the -company, together with Katherine Dunham, Argentinita, and other -distinguished guests.</p> - -<p>If I should be asked why I again allied myself with the “Colonel,” I -already have given a partial answer. There was a sentimental reason, -too. It was a case of “first love.” I wanted to go back to that early -love, to try to recapture some of the old feeling, the former rapture. I -should have realized that one does not go back, that one of the near -impossibilities of life is to recapture the old thrill. Those who can -are among the earth’s most fortunate.</p> - -<p>This ten-week season was expensive. The pleasure of trying to recapture -cost me $70,000 in losses.</p> - -<p>There were, however, compensations: there was the unending circus of -“Mutt and Jeff,” the four-feet-seven “Sasha” Philipoff and the -six-feet-two “Colonel.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_140">{140}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>There was a repertoire that interested me. It was a pleasure once again -to luxuriate in the splendors of <i>Le Coq d’Or</i>, although the investiture -had become a shade or two tarnished from too much travel and too little -touching-up. It was refreshing to see Baronova and Toumanova in brisk -competition again in the same company, for the latter had already become -one of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo defections.</p> - -<p>It is difficult for me to realize that Irina Baronova no longer dances. -She was the youngest of the “baby ballerinas.” Gentle, shy, with -honey-colored hair, Irina was born in Leningrad, and eventually reached -Paris, with her family, by way of the Orient. About her was a simple, -classical beauty, despite the fact that she always found it necessary to -disguise (on the stage) her rather impudent little nose in a variety of -ways by the use of make-up putty. It was so when she started in as a -tiny child to study with the great lady of the Maryinsky, Olga -Preobrajenska, whose nose also has a tilt.</p> - -<p>To George Balanchine must go the credit for discovering Baronova in -Preobrajenska’s School in Paris, when he was on the search for new -talents at the time of the formation of the de Basil-Blum Les Ballets -Russes de Monte Carlo. About her work there was always something joyful -and yet, at the same time, something that was at once wistful and -tender.</p> - -<p>As a classical dancer there was something so subtle about her art that -its true value and her true value came only slowly upon one. There was -no flash; everything about her, every movement, every gesture, flowed -one into another—as in swimming. But not only was she a great classical -dancer, she was the younger generation’s most accomplished mime.</p> - -<p>I like to remember her as the Lady Gay, that red-haired trollop of the -construction camps, in <i>Union Pacific</i>, with her persuasive, -characteristic “come-up-and-see-me-sometime” interpretation; to remember -her in the minor role of the First Hand in <i>Le Beau Danube</i>, carefree, -innocent, flirting at the side of the stage with a park artist. I like -to remember her in <i>Jeux d’Enfants</i>, as she ran through the gamut of -jealousy, petulance, anger, and triumph; in <i>Les Présages</i>, as the -passionate woman loving with her whole being, fighting off the evil that -threatens love; in the mazurka in <i>Les Sylphides</i>; in <i>The Hundred -Kisses</i>, imperious, sulky, stubborn, humorously sly; and as the -Ballerina in <i>Petroushka</i>, drawing that line of demarcation between -heartless doll and equally heartless flirting woman.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_141">{141}</a></span></p> - -<p>Performance over, and away from the theatre, another transformation took -place; for Irina was never off-stage the <i>grande artiste</i>, the -<i>ballerina</i>, but a healthy, normal girl, with a keen sense of humor.</p> - -<p>After a turn or two as a “legitimate” actress and a previous marriage, -Baronova now lives in London’s Mayfair, the wife of a London theatrical -manager, with her two children. The triumph of domesticity is ballet’s -loss.</p> - -<p>I should like to set down from my memory the additions to the repertoire -of the Original Ballet Russe while they had been absent from our shores.</p> - -<p>There were some definitely refreshing works. Chief among these were two -Fokine creations, <i>Paganini</i> and <i>Cendrillon</i>.</p> - -<p>The former had been worked out by Fokine with Sergei Rachmaninoff, -utilizing for music a slightly re-worked version of the latter’s -<i>Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini</i>. Serge Soudeikine had designed a -production that ranked at the top of that Russian designer’s list of -theatre creations. The entire ballet had a fine theatrical -effectiveness. Perhaps the whole may not have been equal to the sum of -its parts, but the second scene, wherein Paganini hypnotized a young -girl by his playing of the guitar and the force of his striking -personality, thereby forcing her into a dance of magnificent frenzy, was -a striking example of the greatness of Fokine. Tatiana Riabouchinska -rose to tremendous heights in the part. I remember Victor Dandré, so -long Pavlova’s life-partner and manager, telling me how, in this part, -Riabouchinska reminded him of Pavlova. Dandré did not often toss about -bouquets of this type.</p> - -<p><i>Cendrillon</i> was Fokine’s retelling of the Cinderella tale. The score, -by Baron “Freddy” d’Erlanger, was certainly no great shakes, but Fokine -illuminated the entire work with the sort of inventiveness that was so -characteristic of him at his best. It would be unjust to compare this -production with the later Frederick Ashton <i>Cinderella</i>, to the -Prokofieff score, which he staged for the Sadler’s Wells Ballet; the -approach was quite different. The de Basil-Fokine production -nevertheless had a distinct charm of its own, enhanced by a genuine -fairy-tale setting by Nathalie Gontcharova.</p> - -<p>A lesser contribution to the repertoire was a symbolic piece, <i>The -Eternal Struggle</i>, staged by Igor Schwezoff, in Australia, to Robert -Schumann piano music, orchestrated by Antal Dorati. It served the -purpose of introducing two Australian designers to America: the Misses -Kathleen and Florence Martin.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_142">{142}</a></span></p> - -<p>There was a duo of works by David Lichine, one serious and unsuccessful, -the other a comedy that had a substantial audience success and which, -since then, has moved from company to company. The former, <i>Protée</i>, was -arranged to Debussy’s <i>Danses Sacré et Profane</i>, in a Chirico setting -and costumes. The latter, <i>Graduation Ball</i>, Lichine had staged during -the long Australian stay. Its music was an admirable selection and -arrangement of Johann Strauss tunes by Antal Dorati. Its setting and -costumes were by Alexandre Benois. Much of its humor was sheer horseplay -and on the obvious side; but it was completely high-spirited, and was -the season’s comedy success.</p> - -<p>A third work, credited to Lichine, was <i>The Prodigal Son</i>, a ballet that -was the outstanding creation of the last Diaghileff season, in 1929. Set -to a memorable commissioned score by Serge Prokofieff, by George -Balanchine, with Serge Lifar, Leon Woizikovsky, Anton Dolin and Felia -Dubrowska in the central roles, it had striking and evocative settings -and costumes by Georges Rouault. De Basil had secured these properties, -and had had the work re-done in Australia by Lichine. Lichine insisted -he had never seen the Balanchine original and thus approached the -subject with a fresh mind. However, Serge Grigorieff was the general -stage director for both companies. It is not beyond possibility that -Grigorieff, with his sensitive-plate retentive mind for balletic detail, -might have transferred much of the spirit and style of the original to -the de Basil-Lichine presentation. However it may have been, the result -was a moving theatrical experience. My strongest memory of it is the -exciting performance given by Sono Osato as the exotic siren who seduces -the Prodigal during his expensive excursion among the flesh-pots.</p> - -<p>During this Hollywood Theatre season we also had <i>Le Cotillon</i>, that had -served originally to introduce Riabouchinska to American audiences. We -also, I am happy to remember, had Fokine’s Firebird, in the original -choreography, and the uncut Stravinsky score, together with the -remarkable settings and costumes of Gontcharova. Its opening performance -provided a few breath-taking moments when Baronova’s costume gave way, -and she fought bravely to prevent an embarrassing exposure.</p> - -<p>During their tenure of the Hollywood Theatre, we managed one creation. -It was <i>Balustrade</i>. Its choreography was by George Balanchine. Its -music was Igor Stravinsky’s Violin Concerto, played in the orchestra pit -by Samuel Dushkin, for whom it was written. Stravin<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_143">{143}</a></span>sky himself came on -from California to conduct the work. As is so often the case with -Balanchine, it had neither story nor theme nor idea; it was simply an -abstraction in which Balanchine set out to exploit to the fullest the -brittle technical prowess of Tamara Toumanova. The only reason I could -determine for the title was that the setting, by Pavel Tchelitcheff, -consisted of a long balustrade. Unfortunately, despite all the costs, -which I paid, it had, all told, one consecutive performance.</p> - -<p>The close of the season at the Hollywood Theatre found me, once again, -in a perplexed mood. The de Basil organization, riddled by intrigue and -quite out of focus, was not the answer. Its finances were in a parlous -state. I disengaged my emotions and surveyed both the negligible -artistic accomplishments and the substantial financial losses. I turned -a deaf ear to de Basil’s importunings to have me undertake another -American tour, although I did sponsor engagements in Boston and -Philadelphia, and undertook to send the company to Mexico and South -America.</p> - -<p>As matters stood, neither the company nor the repertoire was good -enough. I still had one more season tied to the Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, and that, for the moment, was enough of trouble. I argued with -myself that the Denham difficulties were sufficient unto one day, -without deliberately and gratuitously adding those of the “Colonel.”</p> - -<p>Fresh troubles arose in Philadelphia, from which point the company was -to depart for Mexico City. Tamara Toumanova’s presence with the company -was one of the conditions of the Mexican contract.</p> - -<p>It will not be difficult, I think, for the reader to imagine my feelings -when, on my arrival in Philadelphia, I was greeted by Toumanova with the -news that she was leaving the company, that her contract with de Basil -had expired, and that nothing in her life had given her greater -happiness than to be able to quit.</p> - -<p>De Basil was not to be found. He had gone into hiding. I went into -action. I approached “Gerry” Sevastianov and his wife, Irina Baronova, -to help out the situation by agreeing to have Baronova go to Mexico in -place of the departing Toumanova. She consented, and this cost me an -additional considerable sum.</p> - -<p>Having succeeded in this, de Basil emerged from his hiding place to hold -me up once again by demanding money under duress. He had no money and -had to have cash in advance before he would<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_144">{144}</a></span> move the company to Mexico. -Once there, he raised objections to the Baronova arrangements, did not -want her to dance or as a member of the company; and there was a general -air of sabotage, egged on, I have no doubt, by a domestic situation, -wherein his wife wanted to dance leading roles.</p> - -<p>Somehow we managed to get through the Mexico City engagement and to get -them to Cuba. There matters came to a head with a vengeance. Because of -de Basil’s inability to pay salaries, he started cutting salaries, with -a strike that has become a part of ballet history ensuing.</p> - -<p>Once more I dispatched my trusty right hand, Mae Frohman, to foreign -parts to try to straighten matters out. There was nothing she could do. -The mess was too involved, too complicated, and the only possible course -was for me to drop the whole thing.</p> - -<p>De Basil, looking for new worlds to conquer, started for South America. -His adventures in the Southern Hemisphere have no important place in -this book, since the company was not then under my management. They -would, moreover, fill another book. The de Basil South American venture, -however, enters this story chronologically at a later point. Let it be -said that the “Colonel’s” adventures there were as fantastic as the man -himself. They included, among many other things, defection after -defection, sometimes necessitating a recruiting of dancers almost from -the streets; the performances of ballets with girls who had never heard -of the works, much less seen them, having to rehearse them sketchily -while the curtain was waiting to rise; the coincidence of performance -with the outbreak of a local revolution; flying his little company in -shifts, since only one jalopy plane, in a dubious state of repair, was -available. I shall not go into his fantastic financing, this being one -of the few times when, as I suggested at the beginning of this book, the -curtain might be lowered for a few discreet moments, in order to spare -the feelings of others rather than my own.</p> - -<p>In the quiet of the small hours of the morning, I would lie awake and -compare the personalities of the two “organizers,” de Basil and Denham, -reviewing their likenesses and their differences. As I dozed off, I came -to the conclusion that most generalizations about personality are wrong. -When you have spent hours, days, months, years in close association and -have been bored and irritated by a flamboyant individual, you are apt to -think that restraint and reticence are the only virtues. Until you meet -a quiet fellow, who is quiet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_145">{145}</a></span> either because he has nothing to say or -nothing to make a noise about, and then discover his stillness is merely -a convenient mask for deceit.</p> - -<p>Massine, unable to continue any longer with the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe -management, severed his connection with the company he had made, in -1942. Save for a few undistinguished creations, de Basil was skating -along as best he could on his Diaghileff heritage; classicism was being -neglected in the frantic search for “novelties.” Both companies were -making productions, not on any basis of policy, but simply for -expediency and as cheaply as possible. Existing productions in both -companies were increasingly slipshod. While it is true that a good -ballet is a good ballet, it is something less than good when it receives -niggardly treatment or when it is given one less iota than the strictest -attention to detail.</p> - -<p>That is exactly what happened when the companies split, and split again: -the works suffered; this, together with the recurring internal crises, -boded ill for the future of ballet. There was the ever-present need for -money for new productions. Diaghileff had one Maecenas after another. By -the beginning of the third decade of the twentieth century, a Maecenas -was becoming a rare bird indeed. Today he is as dead as the proverbial -Dodo.</p> - -<p>I had certain definite convictions about ballet, I still have them. One -of them is that the sound cornerstone of any ballet company must be -formed of genuine classics. But these must never take the form of -“modern” versions, nor additionally suffer from anything less than -painstaking productions, top-drawer performances, and an infinite -respect for the works themselves. Ballet may depart from the classical -base as far as it wishes to experiment, but the base should always be -kept in sight; and psychological excursions, explorations into the -subconscious, should never be permitted to obscure the fact that the -basic function of ballet is to entertain. By that I do not mean to -suggest ballet should stand still, should chain itself to reaction and -the conservatism of a dead past. It should look forward, move forward; -but it must take its bearings from those virtues of a living past, which -is its heritage: all of which can be summed up in one brief phrase—the -classical tradition.</p> - -<p>There are increasingly frequent attempts to create ballets crammed with -symbols dealing with various aspects of sex, perversion, physical and -psychological tensions. In one of the world’s great ballet centers there -have been attempts to use ballet as a means to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_146">{146}</a></span> promulgate and -propagandize political ideologies. I am glad to say the latter have been -completely unsuccessful and they have returned to the classics.</p> - -<p>I should be the last person to wish to limit the choreographer’s choice -of subject material. That is ready to his hand and mind. The fact -remains that, in my opinion, ballet cannot (and will not) be tied down -to any one style, aesthetic, religion, ideology, or philosophy. -Therefore, it seems to me, the function of the choreographer is to -express balletic ideas, thought, and emotion in a way that first and -foremost pleases him. But, at the same time, I should like to remind -every choreographer of a distinguished authority, when he said, -“Pleasure, and pleasure alone, is the purpose of art.” But pleasure -differs in kind according to the way that individuals and groups of -individuals differ in mental and emotional make-up. Thus ballet provides -pleasure for the intellectual and the sensualist, the idealist and the -realist, the Catholic, the Protestant, the Atheist. And it will remain -the function of the choreographer to provide this infinite variety of -pleasure until such time that all men think, feel, and act alike.</p> - -<p>Ballet was at a cross-road. I was at a cross-road in my career in -ballet. It was at this indecisive point there emerged a new light on the -balletic horizon. It called itself Ballet Theatre. It interested me very -much.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_147">{147}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_10">10.</a> The Best of Plans ... Ballet Theatre</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">D</span><b>URING</b> the very late ’thirties, Mikhail Mordkin had had a ballet -company, giving sporadic performances on Sunday nights, occasionally on -week-day evenings, and, now and then, some out-of-town performances. It -was a small company, largely made up of Mordkin’s pupils, of which one, -Lucia Chase, was <i>prima ballerina</i>. Miss Chase was seen in, among other -parts, the title role of <i>Giselle</i>, in which she was later replaced by -Patricia Bowman.</p> - -<p>This little company is credited with having given the first performance -on this continent of the full-length Tchaikowsky <i>Sleeping Beauty</i>. In -order that the record may be quite clear on this point, the production -was not that of the Petipa masterpiece, but rather Mordkin’s own -version. It was presented at Waterbury, Connecticut, in 1937. Waterbury -is the home town of Lucia Chase. Lucia Chase was the Princess Aurora of -the production. So far as the records reveal, there was a single -performance.</p> - -<p>The season of 1938-1939 was the Mordkin company’s last. It was, as a -company, foredoomed to failure from the very start, in my opinion. Its -repertoire was meagre, unbalanced; it had no dancers who were known; it -lacked someone of <i>ballerina</i> stature.</p> - -<p>Towards the end of the company’s existence, Mordkin had an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_148">{148}</a></span> associate, -Richard Pleasant, whose interest in ballet had, in earlier days, caused -him to act as a supernumerary in de Basil company productions, and who -had an idea: an idea that has lurked in the minds of a number of young -men I know, to wit: to form a ballet company. It is one thing to want to -form a ballet company, another to do it. In addition to having the idea, -one must have money—and a great deal of it.</p> - -<p>In this case, idea and money came together simultaneously, for the -Mordkin school and company had Lucia Chase, with ambitions and interest -as well. Lucia Chase had money—a great deal of it—and she wanted to -dance. She had substantially financed the Mordkin company. Pleasant went -ahead with his plan for a grandiose organization—with his ideas and -Chase’s money. The Mordkin company was closed up; and a new company, on -a magnificent scale, calling itself Ballet Theatre, was formed.</p> - -<p>The Mordkin venture had been too small, too limited in its scope, too -reactionary in thought, so Mordkin himself was pushed into the -background, soon to be ousted altogether, and the tremendous undertaking -went forward on a scale the like of which this country had never seen. -In a Utopia such a pretentious scheme would have a permanent place in -the cultural pattern, for the company’s avowed policy, at the outset, -was to act as a repository for genuine masterpieces of all periods and -styles of the dance; it would be to the dance what a great museum is to -the arts of sculpture and painting. The classical, the romantic, the -modern, all would find a home in the new organization. The company was -to be so organized that it could compete with the world’s best. It -should be large. It should have ample backing.</p> - -<p>The company’s debut at the Center Theatre, in New York’s Rockefeller -Center, on 11th January, 1940, was preceded by a ballyhoo of circus -proportions. The rehearsal period preceding this date was long and -arduous. The company’s slogans included one announcing that the works -were “staged by the greatest collaboration in ballet history.” It was a -“super” organization—imposing, diverse and diffuse. But it was a big -idea, albeit an impractical one. Its impracticability, however, did not -lessen the impact of its initial impression. More than thirteen years -have elapsed since Ballet Theatre made its bow, and one can hardly -regard its initial roster of contributors even now without an astonished -blink of the eyes. There were twenty principal dancers, fifteen -soloists, a <i>corps de ballet</i> of fifty-six. In<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_149">{149}</a></span> addition, there was a -Negro group numbering fourteen. There was an additional Spanish group of -nineteen. The choreographers numbered eleven; an equal number of scene -and costume designers; three orchestra conductors. Eighteen composers, -living and dead, contributed to the initial repertoire of as many works.</p> - -<p>Although the founders were American, as was the backing, there was no -slavish chauvinism in its repertoire, which was cosmopolitan and -catholic. Only two of its eleven choreographers were natives: Eugene -Loring and Agnes de Mille. The company was international. Three of the -choreographers were English: Anton Dolin, Andrée Howard, and Antony -Tudor. Four were Russian: Michel Fokine, Adolph Bolm, Mikhail Mordkin, -Bronislava Nijinska.</p> - -<p>Only five of the eighteen works that made up the repertoire of the -introductory season of Ballet Theatre remain in existence: <i>Giselle</i>, -originally staged, after the traditional production, by Anton Dolin, who -had joined the venture after an Australian stint with de Basil’s -Original Ballet Russe; <i>Swan Lake</i>, in the one-act version, also staged -by Dolin; Fokine’s masterpiece, <i>Les Sylphides</i>; the oldest ballet -extant, <i>La Fille Mal Gardée</i>, staged by Bronislava Nijinska; and Adolph -Bolm’s production of the children’s fairy tale, <i>Peter and the Wolf</i>, to -the popular Prokofieff orchestral work, with narrator.</p> - -<p>It was significant to me that the outstanding successes of that first -season were the classics. First, there was <i>Les Sylphides</i>, restored by -the master himself. This, coupled with Dolin’s <i>Swan Lake</i>, and -<i>Giselle</i>, constituted the backbone of the standard repertoire.</p> - -<p>The first four weeks’ season was, perhaps, as expensive a balletic -venture as New York has known, with the possible exception of the Ballet -International of the Marquis de Cuevas, some four years later.</p> - -<p>Following Ballet Theatre’s introductory burst of activity, there was a -hiatus, during which the company gave sporadic performances in -Philadelphia, some appearances at the Lewisohn Stadium in New York, and -appeared in Chicago in conjunction with the Chicago Opera Company.</p> - -<p>Before Ballet Theatre embarked on its second season, trouble was -cooking. There were indications Lucia Chase and Pleasant were not seeing -exactly eye to eye. The second New York season was announced to open at -the Majestic Theatre, on 11th February, 1941. Now the Majestic Theatre -is a far cry from the wide open spaces of the Center Theatre. It is the -house where I had given a brief and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_150">{150}</a></span> costly season with de Basil’s -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo in the early days, on a stage so small that -no justice can be done to dance or dancers, and where the capacity does -not admit of meeting expenses even when sold out.</p> - -<p>Pleasant’s newest idea, announced before the season opened, was to -present a “company.” There were to be no distinctions or classifications -of dancers. One of the time-honored institutions of ballet was also -abolished; there was no general stage director, or <i>régisseur-general</i>, -as he is known in the French terminology of ballet. Instead, the company -was divided, like all Gaul, into three parts, to be known as “Wings,” -with Anton Dolin in charge of the “Classic Wing”; Antony Tudor, of the -“English Wing”; Eugene Loring, of the “American Wing.” Five new works -were added to the repertoire, of which only two remain: Eugene Loring’s -<i>Billy the Kid</i>, to one of Aaron Copland’s finest scores, and Agnes de -Mille’s <i>Three Virgins and a Devil</i>, to Ottorino Respighi’s <i>Antiche -Danze ed Arie</i>. Dolin’s <i>Pas de Quatre</i>, produced at this time, has been -replaced in the company’s repertoire by another version.</p> - -<p>The differences between Pleasant and Chase came to a head, and the -former was forced to resign at the end of the four weeks’ season, which -resulted in more substantial losses.</p> - -<p>It was at this time that I was approached on behalf of the organization -by Charles Payne, seeking advice as to how to proceed. We lunched -together in Rockefeller Plaza, and while I am unable to state that the -final decision was wholly mine or that the terminal action was taken -exclusively on my advice, I counselled Payne that, in my opinion, the -only course for them to follow would be to close down the company -completely, place everything they owned into storage, and start afresh -after reorganization. Receipts at the box-office having fallen as low as -$319 a performance, there was no other choice. In any event, my advice -was followed.</p> - -<p>Reorganization was under way. In an organization of this magnitude and -complexity, reorganization was something that took a great deal of both -thought and time. It was by no means a simple matter. While the -reorganization was in its early, indecisive stages, with protracted -debates going on within the circle as to whether it should continue in -any form or fold its wings in the sleep everlasting, Anton Dolin came to -me to ask me to take over the management of the venture.</p> - -<p>This was not a thing to be regarded lightly. The situation in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_151">{151}</a></span> ballet in -general, and with the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe in particular, being as I -have described it, I was interested in and attracted by the potential -value of the company, if the proper sort of reorganization could be -effected. Their Chicago season had been a complete fiasco at the -box-office. There is a legend to the effect that, in an effort to -attract a few people into the Chicago Opera House, members of the -company stood outside the building as the office-workers from the -surrounding buildings wended their way homeward to the suburban trains, -passing out free tickets. The legend also has it that they managed to -get some of these free tickets into the hands of a local critic who was -one of the crowd.</p> - -<p>I do not wish to bore the reader with the details of all the debates -that highlighted those days. Sufficient is it to say that they were -crowded and that the nights were often sleepless.</p> - -<p>Anton Dolin was responsible for having German (“Gerry”) Sevastianov, no -longer associated with de Basil, appointed as managing director, in -succession to the resigned Pleasant.</p> - -<p>The negotiations commenced and were both long and involved between all -parties concerned which included discussion with Lucia Chase and her -attorney, Harry M. Zuckert. Matters were reaching a point where I felt a -glimmer of light could be detected, when a honeymoon intervened, due to -the marriage of Zuckert. Ballet waited for romance. Throughout the long -drawn-out discussions and negotiations, Zuckert was always pleasant, -cooperative, diplomatic, and evidenced a sincere desire to avoid any -friction.</p> - -<p>Among the first acts of Sevastianov, after taking over the directorship, -was to engage his wife, Irina Baronova, as a leading ballerina, together -with Antal Dorati, former musical director of the de Basil company, and -today the musical director of the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, to -direct and supervise the music of Ballet Theatre. Later, through the -good offices of Anton Dolin, Alicia Markova, whose contract with the -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo had terminated, became one of the two -<i>ballerine</i> of the company.</p> - -<p>The negotiations dragged on during the summer. Meanwhile, with the -company and its artists inactive, Markova and Dolin, on their own, -leased Jacob’s Pillow, the Ted Shawn farm and summer theatre in the -Berkshires, and gave a number of performances under the collective title -of International Dance Festival. This was a quite independent venture, -but Markova and Dolin peopled their season and school with the personnel -of Ballet Theatre.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_152">{152}</a></span></p> - -<p>This summer in the Berkshires had a two-fold effect on the company: -first, the members were thus able to work together as a unit; second, -with three choreographers in residence, it was possible for them to lay -out and develop the early groundwork of three works, subsequently to be -added to the Ballet Theatre repertoire: <i>Slavonika</i>, by Vania Psota; -<i>Princess Aurora</i>, by Anton Dolin; and <i>Pillar of Fire</i>, by Antony -Tudor.</p> - -<p>Two of these were major contributions; one was pretty hopeless. Dolin’s -<i>Princess Aurora</i> was a reworking of the last act of Tchaikowsky’s <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, a sort of <i>Aurora’s Wedding</i>, with the addition of the -<i>Rose Adagio</i>, giving the company another classic work that remains in -the company’s repertoire today, with some “innovations.” <i>Pillar of -Fire</i>, set to Arnold Schönberg’s <i>Verklärte Nacht</i>, revealed a new type -of dramatic ballet which, in many respects, may be said to be Tudor’s -masterpiece. <i>Slavonika</i> was set by the Czech Psota to a number of -Dvorak’s <i>Slavonic Dances</i>, and was an almost total loss, from every -point of view. The original version, as first produced, ran fifty-five -minutes. I thought it would never end. But, as the tour proceeded, it -was cut, and cut again. The last time I saw it was when I visited the -company in Toronto. Then it was blessedly cut down to six minutes. After -that, no further reduction seemed possible, and it was sent to the limbo -of the storehouse, never to be seen again.</p> - -<p>The deal between Ballet Theatre and myself was closed during the time -the company was working at Jacob’s Pillow, and I took over the company -in November, 1941. It might be of interest to note some of the chief -personnel of the company at that time. Among the women were: Alicia -Markova, Irina Baronova, Lucia Chase, Karen Conrad, Rosella Hightower, -Nora Kaye, Maria Karnilova, Jeanette Lauret, Annabelle Lyon, Sono Osato, -Nina Popova, and Roszika Sabo; among the men were: Anton Dolin, Ian -Gibson, Frank Hobi, John Kriza, Hugh Laing, Yurek Lasovsky, Nicolas -Orloff, Richard Reed, Jerome Robbins, Dmitri Romanoff, Borislav Runanin, -Donald Saddler, Simon Semenoff, George Skibine, and Antony Tudor, to -list them alphabetically, for the most part. Later, Alicia Alonso -returned to the organization. A considerable number had been brought as -a strengthening measure by Sevastianov.</p> - -<p>One of the company’s weaknesses was in its classical and romantic -departments. While there were Fokine’s <i>Les Sylphides</i> and <i>Carnaval</i>, I -felt more Fokine ballets were necessary to a balanced<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_153">{153}</a></span> repertoire. -Sevastianov engaged Fokine to re-stage <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i> and -<i>Petroushka</i>, and to create a new work for Anton Dolin and Irina -Baronova. Fokine started work on <i>Bluebeard</i>, to an Offenbach score, -arranged and orchestrated by Antal Dorati, with scenery and costumes by -Marcel Vertes.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, I lived up to my contract with the Ballet Russe de Monte -Carlo, and presented them, in the autumn of 1941, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, and subsequently on tour.</p> - -<p>In order to prepare the new works, Ballet Theatre went to Mexico City, -returning to New York to open at the Forty-fourth Street Theatre, on -12th November, 1941. In addition to the existing Ballet Theatre -repertoire, four works were added and had their first New York -performances: Psota’s <i>Slavonika</i>, and Dolin’s re-creation of <i>Princess -Aurora</i>, which I have mentioned, together with <i>Le Spectre de la Rose</i>, -and Bronislava Nijinska’s <i>The Beloved One</i>. The last was a revival of a -work originally done to a Schubert-Liszt score, arranged by Darius -Milhaud, for the Markova-Dolin Ballet in London. In the New York -production it had scenery and costumes by Nicolas de Molas. It was not a -success.</p> - -<p>The season was an uphill affair. Business was not good, but matters were -improving slightly, when we reached that fatal Sunday, the seventh of -December. Pearl Harbor night had less than $400 in receipts. The world -was at war. The battle to establish a new ballet company was paltry by -comparison. Nevertheless, our plans had been made; responsibilities had -been undertaken; there were human obligations to the artists, who -depended upon us for their livelihood; there were responsibilities to -local managers, who had booked us. There was a responsibility to the -public; for, in such times, I can conceive no reason why the cultural -entertainment world should stand still. It is a duty, I believe, to see -that it does not. In Russia, during the war, the work of the ballet was -intensified; in Britain, the Sadler’s Wells organization carried on, -giving performances throughout the country, in camps, in factories, in -fit-ups, as an aid to the morale both civilian and military. There could -be no question of our not going forward.</p> - -<p>Leaving New York, we played Boston, Philadelphia, a group of Canadian -cities, Chicago. With such a cast and repertoire, it was reasonable to -expect there would be large audiences. The expectation was not -fulfilled. The stumbling-block was the title: Ballet Theatre. The use of -the two terms—“ballet” and “theatre”—as a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_154">{154}</a></span> means of identifying the -combination of the balletic and theatrical elements involved in the -organization, is quite understandable, in theory. As a practical name -for an individual ballet company, it is utterly confusing and -frustrating. I am not usually given to harboring thoughts of -assassination, but I could murder the person who invented that title and -used it as the name for a ballet company. Ballet in America does not -exist exclusively on the support of the initiated ballet enthusiast, the -“balletomane”—to use a term common in ballet circles to describe the -ballet “fan.” The word “balletomane” itself is of Russian origin, a -coined word for which there is no literal translation. Ballet, in order -to exist, must draw its chief support from the mass of theatregoers, -from the general amusement-loving public, those who like to go to a -“show.” The casual theatregoer, when confronted with posters and a -marquee sign reading “Ballet Theatre,” finds himself confused, more -likely than not believing it to be the name of the theatre building -itself. My own experience and a careful survey has demonstrated this -conclusively.</p> - -<p>My losses in these days of Ballet Theatre were prodigious. Both Chase -and Sevastianov were aware of them. Other managements, in view of such -losses, might well have dropped the entire venture. In view of the heavy -deficits I was incurring and bearing single-handed, I felt some -assistance should be given.</p> - -<p>An understanding was reached whereby I agreed to reduce the number of -new productions to be furnished for the next season, in order that their -expenses might be minimized. In consideration of this a certain amount -was refunded. At that moment it was a help; but not a sufficient help to -reduce my losses to less than $60,000. As a matter of fact, the -agreement was beneficial to both sides. In my case, it temporarily eased -the burden of meeting a heavy weekly payroll at a time when there were -practically no receipts; as for Ballet Theatre, it substantially reduced -their investment in new productions.</p> - -<p>The continuing war presented additional problems. Personnel changes were -frequent on the male side of the company owing to the war-time draft. -There was an increasing demand for ballet; but a new uninformed, -uninitiated public was not in the market for ballet companies, but for -ballets—works about which they had somehow heard. I had two companies, -Ballet Theatre and the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, and I presented -them, one after the other, at the Metropolitan Opera House. In my -opinion, many of the problems<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_155">{155}</a></span> could have been solved by a merger of the -two groups, had such a thing been possible, thus preserving, I believe, -the best properties and qualities of each of them.</p> - -<p>During the spring of 1942, two new works were presented: Tudor’s <i>Pillar -of Fire</i>, on which he had been working for a long time, and Fokine’s -<i>Russian Soldier</i>. The latter was done at a time when we were all -thrilled by the tremendous effort the Russians were making in their -battles, their heroic battles, against the Nazi invader. In discussing -the idea with Fokine, himself Russian to the core, we emphasized the -symbolic intent of the tragedy, that of the simple Russian peasant who -sacrifices his life for his homeland. Although we of course did not -realize it at the time, this was to be the last work Fokine was to -complete in his long list of balletic creations. <i>Russian Soldier</i> had -some of the best settings and costumes ever designed by the Russian -painter, Mstislav Doboujinsky. For music, Fokine utilized the orchestral -suite devised by Serge Prokofieff from his score for the satirical film, -<i>Lieutenant Kije</i>, which was extremely effective as music, but with -which I was never entirely happy, since Prokofieff, the musical -satirist, had packed it with his own very personal brand of satire for -the satiric film for which the music was originally composed. At the -same time, I doubt that any substantial portion of the audience knew the -source of the music and detected the satire; the great majority found -the work a moving experience.</p> - -<p>Aside from being perhaps Tudor’s most important contribution to ballet, -<i>Pillar of Fire</i>—with its settings and costumes by Jo Mielziner, his -first contribution as a noted American designer to the ballet -stage—served to raise Nora Kaye from the rank and file of the original -company to an important position as a new type of dramatic <i>ballerina</i>.</p> - -<p>Leonide Massine, parting with the company he had built, joined Ballet -Theatre as dancer and choreographer before the company’s departure for a -second summer season at the Palacio des Bellas Artes in Mexico City, as -guests of the Mexican Government.</p> - -<p>In addition to performances there, the company used the Mexican period -as one of creation and rehearsal. Massine was in the midst of a creative -frenzy, working on two new ballets. One was <i>Don Domingo</i>, which had -some stunning scenery and costumes by the Mexican artist, Julio -Castellanos; an intriguing score by Sylvestre Revueltas; a Mexican -subject by Alfonso Reyes; <i>Don Domingo</i> was prompted by the sincere -desire to pay a tribute to the country south<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_156">{156}</a></span> of the border which had -played host to the company. That was Massine’s intention. Unfortunately, -the work did not jell, and was soon dropped from the repertoire.</p> - -<p>The other work was <i>Aleko</i>, which takes rank with some of the best of -Massine’s creations. It was a subject close to his heart and to mine, -the poetic Pushkin tale of the lad from the city and his tragic love for -the daughter of a gypsy chieftain, a love that brings him to two murders -and a banishment. As a musical base, Massine took the Trio for piano, -violin, and violoncello which Tchaikowsky dedicated “to the memory of a -great artist,” Nicholas Rubinstein, in an orchestration by Erno Rapee. -The whole thing was a fine piece of collaboration between Massine and -the surrealist painter, Marc Chagall; and the work was deeply moving, -finely etched, with a strong feeling for character.</p> - -<p>I have particularly happy memories of watching Chagall and his late wife -working in happy collaboration on the <i>Aleko</i> production in Mexico City. -While he busied himself with the scenery, she occupied herself with the -costumes. The result of this fine collaboration on the part of all the -artists concerned resulted in a great Russian work.</p> - -<p>The Ballet Theatre management was, to put it mildly, not in favour of -<i>Aleko</i>. It was a production on which I may be said to have insisted. -Fortunately, I was proved correct. Although it was dropped from the -repertoire not long after Ballet Theatre and I came to a parting of the -ways, it has now, ten years after its production, been crowned with -success in London. Presented at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, by -Ballet Theatre, in the summer of 1953, it has proved to be the -outstanding hit of their London season, both with press and public. I -cannot remember the unemotional and objective <i>Times</i> (London) waxing -more enthusiastic over a balletic work.</p> - -<p>During the Mexican hegira the company re-staged the Eugene Loring-Aaron -Copland <i>Billy the Kid</i>, still one of the finest American ballets, -although originally created in 1938. Certainly it is one of Copland’s -most successful theatre scores. Simon Semenoff also brought forth a -condensed and truncated version of Delibes’s <i>Coppélia</i>, as a vehicle -for Irina Baronova, with settings and costumes by Robert Montenegro. It -was not a success. It was a case of tampering with a classic; and I hold -firmly to the opinion that classics should not be subjected to tampering -or maltreatment. There is a special<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_157">{157}</a></span> hades reserved for those -choreographers who have the temerity to draw mustaches on portraits of -lovely ladies.</p> - -<p>Yet another Mexican creation that failed to meet the test of the stage -was <i>Romantic Age</i>, a ballet by Anton Dolin, to assorted music by -Vincenzo Bellini, in a setting and with costumes by Carlos Merida. An -attempt to capture some of the balletic atmosphere of the “romantic age” -in ballet, it was freely adapted from the idea of <i>Aglae, or The Pupil -of Love</i>, a work by Philippe Taglioni, dating back to 1841, originally a -vehicle of Marie Taglioni.</p> - -<p>Michel Fokine and his wife Vera were also with the company in Mexico -City, re-staging his masterpiece, <i>Petroushka</i>, and commencing a new -work, <i>Helen of Troy</i>, based on the Offenbach <i>opéra bouffe</i>, <i>La Belle -Hélene</i>. Unfortunately, Fokine was stricken with pleurisy and returned -to New York, only to die from pneumonia shortly after.</p> - -<p><i>Helen of Troy</i>, however, promised well and a substantial investment had -already been made in it. David Lichine was called in and worked with -Antal Dorati on the book, as Dorati worked on the Offenbach music, with -Lichine staging the work on tour after the Metropolitan Opera House -season in New York. Still later, when Vera Zorina appeared with the -company, George Balanchine restaged it for his wife. The final result -was presumably a long way from Fokine, but a version of it still remains -in the Ballet Theatre repertoire today.</p> - -<p>André Eglevsky joined the company during this season. Later on, Irina -Baronova, under doctor’s orders, left. Because there was no sound -artistic direction and no firm discipline in the company, I urged -Sevastianov to engage an experienced and able ballet-master and -<i>régisseur-general</i> in the person of Adolph Bolm, to be responsible for -the general stage direction, deportment, and the exercise of an artistic -discipline over the company’s dancers, particularly the dissident -elements in it, which made working with them exceedingly difficult at -times. Sevastianov discussed the matter with Miss Chase, who agreed. -Before accepting, Bolm telephoned me from California seeking my advice -and I could but urge him to accept because I felt this would go a long -way toward stabilizing the company artistically.</p> - -<p>It was at the close of the autumn season of 1942, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, that I bade good-bye to the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo and -Universal Art. There was a brief ceremony back-stage at the end of the -last performance. Denham and I both made<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_158">{158}</a></span> farewell speeches. It is -always a sad moment for me to leave a company for whose success I have -given so much of my time, my energy, and money. I felt this sadness -keenly as I took leave of the nice kids.</p> - -<p>The subsequent Ballet Theatre tour developed recurring headaches. They -were cumulative, piling up into one big headache, and it will be less -trying both to the reader and to myself to recount it later in one -place, at one time.</p> - -<p>With the spring of 1943, back we came to the Metropolitan for our spring -season. There was a managerial change. German Sevastianov went off to -war as a member of the United States Army, and J. Alden Talbot became -managing director in his stead. This began the period of the wisest -direction Ballet Theatre has known. Janet Reed joined the company as a -soloist, and Vera Zorina appeared as guest artist in <i>Helen of Troy</i>, -and in a revival of George Balanchine’s <i>Errante</i>. This was a work set -to the music of Schubert-Liszt, originally done for Tilly Losch for <i>Les -Ballets 1933</i>, in London, when Balanchine left de Basil, and one which -the American Ballet revived at the Adelphi Theatre, in New York, two -years later, with Tamara Geva. Balanchine also revived Stravinsky’s -<i>Apollon Musagète</i>, with André Eglevsky, Zorina, Nora Kaye, and Rosella -Hightower, to one of Stravinsky’s most moving scores.</p> - -<p>The other work was history-making. It was Antony Tudor’s <i>Romeo and -Juliet</i>. It was a work of great seriousness and fine theatrical -invention. On the opening night Tudor had not finished the ballet, -although he had been at it for months. It was too late to postpone the -<i>première</i>, so, after a good deal of persuading, it was agreed to -present it in its unfinished state. The curtain on the first performance -fell some twelve minutes before the end. I have told this tale in detail -in <i>Impresario</i>. The matter is historic. There is no point in laboring -it. Tudor is an outstanding creator in the field of modern ballet. -<i>Romeo and Juliet</i> is a monument to his creative gifts. The pity is that -it no longer can be given by Ballet Theatre, no longer seen by the -public, with its sharp characterization, its inviolate sense of period, -the tenseness of its drama sustained in the medium of the dance.</p> - -<p>Tudor’s original idea with <i>Romeo and Juliet</i> was to utilize the Serge -Prokofieff score for the successful Soviet ballet of the same title. -However, he found the Prokofieff score was unsuitable for his -choreographic ideas. He eventually decided on various works by the -English composer, Frederick Delius. Because of the war, it was found -impossible to secure this musical material from England. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_159">{159}</a></span>Consequently, -Antal Dorati, the musical director, orchestrated the entire work from -listening to gramophone recordings of the Delius pieces. How good a job -it was is testified by Sir Thomas Beecham, the long-time friend of -Delius and the redoubtable champion of the composer’s music. I engaged -Sir Thomas to conduct a number of performances of <i>Romeo and Juliet</i> at -the Metropolitan Opera House, and he was amazed by the orchestration, -commenting, “Astounding! Perfectly astounding! It is precisely as -written by my late friend.”</p> - -<p>The list of Beechamiana is long; but here is one more item which I -believe has the virtue of freshness. I should like to record an incident -of Sir Thomas’s first orchestral rehearsal of <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>. As I -recall it, this rehearsal had to be sandwiched in between a broadcast -concert rehearsal Sir Thomas had to make and the actual orchestral -broadcast to which he was committed. There was no time to spare. Our -orchestra was awaiting him at their places in the Metropolitan pit. The -rehearsal was concise, to the point, with few stoppings or corrections -on Sir Thomas’s part. At the conclusion, Sir Thomas looked the men over -with a pontifical eye. Then he addressed them as follows: “Ladies and -gentlemen. I happen to be one of those who believes music speaks its own -language, and that words about it are usually a waste of time and -effort. However, a word or two at this juncture may not be amiss.... I -happened to know the late composer, Mr. Delius, intimately. I am also -intimately acquainted with his music. I have only one suggestion, -gentlemen. Tonight, when we play this music for this alleged ballet, if -you will be so good as to confine yourselves to the notes as written by -my late friend, Mr. Delius, and not <i>improvise</i> as you have done this -afternoon, I assure you the results will be much more satisfactory.... -Thank you very much.” And off he went.</p> - -<p>That night the orchestra played like angels. The ballet was in its -second season when I invited Sir Thomas to take over the performances. -It was a joy to have him in command of the forces. Too little attention -is accorded the quality of the orchestra and the conductor in ballet. -Quite apart from the musical excellence itself, few people realize of -what tremendous value a good conductor and a good orchestra can be to -ballet as a whole. <i>Romeo and Juliet</i> never had such stage performances -as those when Sir Thomas was in charge. And this is not said in -disparagement of other conductors. Not only was the Beecham orchestral -tone beautifully transparent, but Sir Thomas blended stage action and -music so completely that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_160">{160}</a></span> the results were absolutely unique. The -company responded nobly to the inspiration. It was during this season, -endeavoring to utilize every legitimate means to stimulate interest on -the part of the public that, in addition to Sir Thomas and various guest -dancing stars, I also brought Igor Stravinsky from California to conduct -his own works during the Metropolitan Opera House engagement.</p> - -<p>For the sake of the record, let me briefly cite the chronological -tabulation of Ballet Theatre through the period of my management. In the -autumn of 1943, at the Metropolitan Opera House, there were three new -productions, one each by Massine, Tudor, and David Lichine: -<i>Mademoiselle Angot</i>, <i>Dim Lustre</i>, and <i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i>.</p> - -<p>Massine took the famous operetta by Charles Lecocq, <i>La Fille de Mme. -Angot</i>, and in a series of striking sets by Mstislav Doboujinsky, turned -it into a ballet, which, for some reason, failed to strike fire. It is -interesting to note that when, some years later, Massine produced the -work for Sadler’s Wells at Covent Garden, it was a considerable success. -Tudor’s <i>Dim Lustre</i>, despite the presence of Nora Kaye, Rosella -Hightower, Hugh Laing, and Tudor himself in the cast, was definitely -second-rate Tudor. Called by its creator a “psychological episode,” this -sophisticated Edwardian story made use of Richard Strauss’s <i>Burleske</i>, -an early piano concerto of the composer’s, with a set and costumes by -the Motley sisters. Lichine’s <i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i> was a ballet on a -Ukrainian folk tale straight out of Gogol, with Moussorgsky music, -including a witches’ sabbath to the <i>Night on a Bald Mountain</i>, with -settings and costumes by Nicolas Remisoff. It was an addition to the -repertoire, if only for the performance of Dolin as Red Coat, the Devil -of the Ukraine, who danced typically Russian Cossack toe-steps and made -toe-pirouettes. Had the Cossack “Colonel” de Basil seen this, he would, -I am sure, have envied Dolin for once in his life. While <i>Fair at -Sorotchinsk</i> did not have a unanimously favorable reception at the hands -of the press, it was generally liked by the public, as evidenced by the -response at the box-office.</p> - -<p>After the 1943-1944 tour, two more works were added during the spring -season at the Metropolitan Opera House, two sharply contrasted works by -American choreographers: Jerome Robbins and Agnes de Mille. Robbins’s -<i>Fancy Free</i> was a smash hit, a remarkable comedy piece of American -character in a peculiarly native idiom. As a result of this work, -Robbins leapt into fame exactly as Agnes de Mille had done a couple of -years before as the result of her delight<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_161">{161}</a></span>ful <i>Rodeo</i>. <i>Fancy Free</i> was -a collaborative work between Robbins and the brilliant young composer -and conductor, Leonard Bernstein, whose score was as much of a hit as -was the ballet itself. Bernstein’s conducting of the orchestra was also -a telling factor, for his dynamism and buoyancy was transmitted to the -dancers.</p> - -<p>Agnes de Mille’s work, <i>Tally-Ho</i>, was in a much different mood from her -<i>Rodeo</i>. From present-day America, she leapt backwards to the France of -Louis XVI, for a period farce-comedy, set to Gluck melodies, -re-orchestrated by Paul Nordoff. The settings and costumes, in the style -of Watteau, were by the Motleys, who had decorated her earlier <i>Three -Virgins and a Devil</i>. Combining old world elegance with bawdy humor, -<i>Tally-Ho</i> had both charm and fun, and although the company worked its -hardest and at its very best for Agnes, and although she put her very -soul into it, it was not the success that had been hoped.</p> - -<p>Only one <i>première</i> marked the autumn season at the Metropolitan. It was -one done by Balanchine, called <i>Waltz Academy</i>, the first work he had -created for Ballet Theatre, in contrast to numerous revivals I have -mentioned. It was not a very good ballet, static in effect, although -classical in style. Its setting was a reproduction of the ballet room at -the Paris Opera, by Oliver Smith. The music was a dry orchestration of -dance melodies, largely waltzes, by Vittorio Rieti, who composed a pair -of latter-day Diaghileff works. A ballet that could have been -entertaining and lively, just missed being either.</p> - -<p>The lack of new works and the necessity to stimulate public interest -made it necessary to add guest stars, particularly since Markova and -Dolin had left the company to appear in Billy Rose’s revue, <i>The Seven -Lively Arts</i>. Consequently, Tamara Toumanova, Tatiana Riabouchinska, -David Lichine, and André Eglevsky made guest appearances.</p> - -<p>The subsequent tour compounded internal complications until the only -ameliorating feature of my association was the wise and understanding -cooperation of J. Alden Talbot, who was, I knew, on the verge of -resigning his post, for reasons not entirely different from my own in -considering writing a book to be called <i>To Hell with Ballet!</i></p> - -<p>On tour, during 1944-1945, Tudor rehearsed the only new work to be -offered during the 1945 spring season at the Metropolitan. It was -<i>Undertow</i>, the story of an adolescent’s neurosis, suggested to Tudor by -the well-known playwright, John van Druten. It was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_162">{162}</a></span> packed with symbols, -Freudian and otherwise; and my own reaction to its murky tale dealing -with an Oedipus complex, a bloody bitch, a lecherous old man’s affair -with a whore, a mad wedding, a group of drunken charwomen, a rape of a -nasty little girl by four naughty little boys, and a shocking murder, -was one of revulsion. The score was specially commissioned from the -present head of the Juilliard School, the American William Schuman. The -settings and costumes, as depressing as the work itself, were by the -Chicago painter, Raymond Breinin.</p> - -<p>The rigors of war-time ballet travel were considerable, a constant -battle to arrive on time, to be able to leave in time to arrive in time -at the next city. Each day presented a new problem. But it had its comic -side as well. We had played the Pacific Northwest and, after an -engagement in Portland, there followed the most important engagement of -the west thus far, that at the War Memorial Opera House, in San -Francisco.</p> - -<p>There was immense difficulty in getting the company and its properties -out of Portland at all. It should be remembered, and there is no harm -pointing out that the entire railway transportation system of our -country from Portland, Oregon, in the far Northwest, to New Orleans, in -the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, is in the hands of a single railway, -thousands of miles of it single-track line, with no competition, and -thus a law unto itself. For a long time, during this particular tour, -this railway insisted, because of military commitments, it could not -handle the company and its baggage cars from Portland to San Francisco -in time for the first performance there.</p> - -<p>The reader should know that there are no reduced fares or concessions -for theatrical or ballet companies. First-class fares are paid, and full -rates for Pullmans and food. My representative, with a broad experience -in these matters, continued to battle, and it was eventually arranged -that the company would be attached in “tourist” coaches to a troop train -bound for the south, but with no dining facilities for civilians and no -provision for food or drink. At least, it would get them to San -Francisco in time for the opening performance.</p> - -<p>So, the rickety tourist cars were attached to the troop train and the -journey commenced. The artists were carefully warned by my -representative that this was a troop train, that no food would be -available, and that each member of the company should provide himself -enough food and beverage for the journey.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_163">{163}</a></span></p> - -<p>At daybreak of the next morning, cold and dismal, the train stopped at a -junction point in the Cascades to add a locomotive for the long haul -over the “divide.” Opposite the station was a “diner.” Twelve members of -the company, including four principal artists, in nightclothes—pyjamas, -nightgowns, kimonos, bed-slippers, with lightweight coats wrapped round -them—insisted on getting down from the train and crossing to the little -“diner” for “breakfast.”</p> - -<p>Our company manager warned them not to leave the train; told them that -there would be no warning, no signal, since this was not a passenger -train but a troop train, and that they risked missing the train -altogether. He begged, pleaded, ordered—to no avail. Off they went in -the cold of the dawn, in the scantiest of nightclothes.</p> - -<p>Silently and without warning, as the manager had foretold, the train -pulled out, leaving a dozen, including four leading artists, behind in -an Oregon tank town without clothes or tickets.</p> - -<p>By dint of a dozen telephone calls and as many telegrams, the -nightgown-clad D.P.’s were picked up by a later train. After fourteen -hours in day coaches, crowded with regular passengers, they arrived at -the San Francisco Ferry, still in their nightclothes, thirty minutes -before curtain time; they were whisked in taxis to the War Memorial -Opera House. The curtain rose on time. The evening was saved.</p> - -<p>It had its amusing side. It was one of the many hardships of wartime -touring, merely one of the continuous headaches, although a shade on the -unusual side. It was also yet another example of the utter lack of -discipline and consideration in the company, and of the stubborn refusal -of some of its members to cooperate in the cause of a fine art.</p> - -<p>Another of the many incidents having to do with the difficulties of -war-time touring was one in Augusta, Georgia, where no hotel or other -housing accommodations could be found, due to the war-time overcrowding.</p> - -<p>Most of the company slept, as best they could, in the railway station or -in the public park. It is recorded that Alicia Markova spent the night -sleeping on the sidewalk in the entrance-way to a grocer’s shop, wrapped -in newspapers and a cloak by the company manager, while that guardian -angel spent the night sitting on the edge of an adjoining -vegetable-stand, watching over her, smoking an endless chain of -cigarettes.</p> - -<p>This attitude was but an indication of the good sportsmanship<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_164">{164}</a></span> the -youngsters evidenced on more than one occasion, proving that, <i>au fond</i>, -they were, on the whole, good “troupers.”</p> - -<p>While I had been prepared for the departure from the company of J. Alden -Talbot, I was saddened, nevertheless, when he left. Lucia Chase and the -scene designer, Oliver Smith, became joint managing directors, with the -result that there was precious little management and even less -direction. We played a summer season in California, at the War Memorial -Opera House in San Francisco, in conjunction with the City’s Art -Commission, and at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles. In Hollywood we -rehearsed some of the new works to be given in New York in the autumn. -They were five in number, and unequal both in quality and appeal. Only -one was a real success. The five works were by an equal number of -choreographers: Simon Semenoff, Michael Kidd, John Taras, Jerome -Robbins, and Adolph Bolm.</p> - -<p>Semenoff’s work, <i>Gift of the Magi</i>, was an attempt to make a ballet out -of O. Henry’s little short story of the same title, a touching tale of -the pathos of a young married couple with taste and no money. For the -ballet, young Lukas Foss wrote a workmanlike score, and Raoul Péne du -Bois supplied a great deal of scenery, difficult to manipulate. Nora -Kaye and John Kriza, as the young lovers, gave it a sweetness of -characterization. But, despite scenery, costumes, properties, and sweet -characterization, there was no real choreography, and the work soon left -the repertoire.</p> - -<p>Michael Kidd’s first choreographic attempt for Ballet Theatre, and his -first full-scale work as a matter of fact, was a theatre piece. A -musical comedy type of work, it never seemed really to belong in a -ballet repertoire. Kidd called it <i>On Stage!</i> For it Norman dello Joio -provided a workable and efficient score, and Oliver Smith designed a -back-stage scene that looked like back-stage. The costumes were designed -by Alvin Colt.</p> - -<p>Another first choreographic effort was young John Taras’s <i>Graziana</i>, -for which I paid the costs. Here was no attempt to ape the Broadway -musical comedy theatre. It was a straightforward, fresh, classical -piece. Taras had set the work to a Violin Concerto by Mozart. He used a -concise group of dancers, seventeen all told, four of whom were -soloists. There was no story, simply dancing with no excuses, no -apologies, no straining for “novelty,” tricks, stunts, or gags. It was, -in effect, ballet, and the public liked it. Just what the title meant I -never knew. My guess is that Taras had to call it something, and -<i>Graziana</i> was better than Number One.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_165">{165}</a></span></p> - -<p>The Robbins work came directly from Broadway, or the Avenue of the -Americas, to be precise. It was called <i>Interplay</i>, and had originally -been done for a variety show at the Ziegfeld Theatre. It was Robbins’s -second work. It was merely a piece of athletic fun. It was a genuine -hit. For music it had Morton Gould’s <i>Interplay Between Piano and -Orchestra</i>, which he had originally written for a commercial radio -programme as a brief concert piece for José Iturbi, with orchestra. The -“interplay” in the dance was that between classical dance and “jive.” -Actually what emerged was a group of kids having a lot of fun. For once, -in a long while, I could relax and smile when I saw it, for this was a -period when I had little time for relaxation and even less cause to -smile.</p> - -<p>The production of Stravinsky’s <i>Firebird</i> is something with which I -shall deal separately. There was still another season to tour and a -spring season at the Metropolitan Opera House, in 1946. In outlining the -productions and chronology of Ballet Theatre during this period, I have -tried to be as objective as possible so that the organization’s public -history may be a matter of record. Its private history, in so far as my -relations are concerned, is quite another matter.</p> - -<p>The troubles, the differences, the discussions, the intrigues of de -Basil and his group, of Universal Art were, for the most part, all of a -piece. I cannot say I ever got used to them, but I was prepared for -them. I knew pretty much the pattern they would follow, pretty much what -to expect. Being forewarned, I was forearmed. With Ballet Theatre I had -expected something different. Here I was not dealing with the -involutions and convolutions of the Cossack and the Slavic mind. Here, I -felt, would be an American approach. If, as a long-time American, I felt -I knew anything about the American people, one of their most distinctive -and noteworthy characteristics was their honesty of approach, their -straightforwardness, directness, frankness. Alas, I was filled with -disillusionment on this point. Ballet Theatre, in its approach to any -problem where I was concerned, had a style very much its own: full of -queer tricks, evasions, omissions, and unexpected twists of mind and -character, as each day disclosed them.</p> - -<p>There were two chief bones of contention. One was the billing. I have -pointed out the lack of public interest in Ballet Theatre when I took it -over and how the very title worked to its disadvantage. If ballet is to -remain a great, universal entertainment in this country, and is, by the -purchase of tickets at the box-office, to help pay its<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_166">{166}</a></span> own way, at -least in part, we must have a great mass audience as well as “devotees.”</p> - -<p>The other bone of contention, and the one which eventually caused the -rupture of our association, was the matter of guest artists. The -opposition to guest artists was maintained on an almost hysterical -level. There were, as in every discussion, two sides to the question. -Reasonably stated, Lucia Chase’s argument could have been that Ballet -Theatre was an organic whole; that it was an instrument with the -sensitivity of a symphony orchestra, and “stars” damaged such a -conception. As a matter of fact, it was her basic argument. The -argument, plausible enough on the surface, does not, however, stand up -under examination, for the comparison with a symphony orchestra does not -hold.</p> - -<p>Lacking the foresight and wisdom to keep the members of her company -under contract, each season there were presented to Miss Chase a flock -of new faces, new talents, unfamiliar with the repertoire, trained in a -variety of schools with a corresponding variety of styles; it took them -months to become a fully functioning and completely integrated part of -Miss Chase’s “organic whole.” Great symphony orchestras hold their -players together jealously year after year. Great symphony orchestras -manage to reduce their colossal deficits to some extent by the -engagement of distinguished soloists to appear with their “organic -wholes.” Such is the present state of musical appreciation in this -country that it is an open secret that in many cities the way to sell -out, or nearly sell out the house, is to engage soloists with box-office -appeal. I do not here refer to such great symphonic bodies as the Boston -Symphony Orchestra, the Philadelphia Orchestra, the New York -Philharmonic-Symphony Orchestra, but I do refer to those symphonic -bodies in those many cities that are something less than metropolitan -centers. Nor do I mean to suggest that this situation is one to be -commended or applauded, or that it represents the ultimate desired -<i>raison d’être</i> for the existence of a symphony orchestra. But I do -suggest it is the only system feasible in the perilous situation today -in which our symphonic bodies are compelled to operate.</p> - -<p>The analogy between ballet and symphony in this view is not apposite. -Again there was no attempt on Miss Chase’s part to understand the -situation; there was merely stubborn, unrelenting opposition after -recrimination. It should be recorded that J. Alden Talbot during his -tenure as general manager of Ballet Theatre fully realized and -understood the situation and shared my feelings. I remember<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_167">{167}</a></span> one day in -Montreal when I had a conference with Lucia Chase to go over the entire -matter of guest artists. I listened patiently to her mounting hysteria. -I pointed out that, as the company became better known throughout the -country, as the quality of public ballet appreciation improved, the -company of youngsters might be able to stand on their own <i>pointes</i>; but -that, since the company and its personnel were as yet unknown, it would -require infinite time, patience, and money to build them up in the -consciousness of the public; and that, meanwhile, at this point in the -company’s existence, the guest stars gave a much needed fillip to the -organization, and that, to put it bluntly, they were a great relief to -some of the public, at any rate; for the great public has always liked -guest stars and some local managements have insisted on them; of that -the box-office had the proof. It was my contention that the guest star -principle had been responsible for American interest in ballet. I hope -the reader will pardon me if I link that system, coupled with my own -love, enthusiasm, and faith in ballet, with the popularity that ballet -has in this country today. There is such a thing as an unbecoming -modesty, and I dislike wearing anything that is unbecoming.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>TAMARA TOUMANOVA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>It was during the 1945-1946 season, for example, that I engaged Tamara -Toumanova as a guest artist. In addition to appearing in <i>Swan Lake</i>, -<i>Les Sylphides</i>, and various classical <i>pas de deux</i>, I had Bronislava -Nijinska stage a short work she called <i>Harvest Time</i>, to the music of -Henri Wieniawski, orchestrated by Antal Dorati, in which Toumanova -appeared with John Kriza, supported by a small <i>corps de ballet</i>. The -association, I fear, was not too happy for any of us, including the -“Black Pearl.” There was a resentment towards her on the part of some of -the artists, and Toumanova, over-anxious to please, almost literally -danced her head off; but the atmosphere was not conducive to her best -work.</p> - -<p>Having watched Toumanova from childhood, knowing her as I do, it is not -easy, nor is it a simple matter for me to draw an objective portrait of -her, as she is today. One thing I shall <i>not</i> do, and that is to go very -deeply into biographical background. That she was born in a box-car in -Siberia, while her parents were escaping into China from the Russian -Revolution, is a tale too often told—as are the stories of her -beginnings as a dancer in Paris with Olga Preobrajen<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_168">{168}</a></span>ska, and an -appearance at the Paris Trocadero on a Pavlova programme, at the age of -five or so.</p> - -<p>It was her father, Vadim Boretszky-Kasadevich, who called a temporary -halt to the child prodigy business, by insisting that dance be suspended -for a year until she could do some school work.</p> - -<p>Discovered at Preobrajenska’s school by George Balanchine, he placed her -with the de Basil company, and for a half-dozen years she remained -there, save for a brief interlude with Balanchine’s short-lived <i>Les -Ballets 1933</i>.</p> - -<p>It was that same year that I brought the de Basil company to America the -first time, where she joined the trinity of “baby ballerinas”—Baronova -and Riabouchinska, of course, being the other two. It is a matter of -history how Toumanova became the American rotogravure editors’ delight; -how America became Toumanova-conscious.</p> - -<p>Strong, remarkably strong though her technique was even in those days, -her performances were frequently uneven. Toumanova was a temperamental -dancer then, as now, and to those who know only her svelte, slender, -mature beauty of today, there may be some wonder that in those days she -had to fight a recurring tendency towards <i>embonpoint</i>, and excessive -<i>embonpoint</i>. But there were always startling brilliancies. In <i>Jeux -d’Enfants</i> and <i>Cotillon</i>, I remember the dazzling <i>fouetées</i>. It is one -of Toumanova’s boasts that she was the first dancer to do thirty-two -double <i>fouetées</i> and sixteen triples in actual performance. I am not an -authority on these technical matters and can, therefore, merely record -the statement.</p> - -<p>Her unsuccessful Broadway appearance (a musical called <i>Stars in Your -Eyes</i>) was followed by a reunion with the de Basil Company in Australia -and a short season with him at the Hollywood Theatre, in New York; and -there was a later sojourn with the Massine Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. -Then Hollywood beckoned. There was one film in which she played an -acting part, <i>Days of Glory</i>. The picture was certainly not much to talk -about, but she married the producer-writer, Casey Robinson.</p> - -<p>Since then, she has turned up as guest-artist with one organization -after another: the Paris Opera Ballet, the Marquis de Cuevas company, -Anton Dolin’s Festival Ballet in London, the San Francisco Civic Ballet; -a nomadic balletic existence, interrupted by another Hollywood film -appearance, this time in the role of Pavlova in <i>Tonight We Sing</i>, based -on my earlier book, <i>Impresario</i>.</p> - -<p>As a person there is something about her that is at once naive<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_169">{169}</a></span> and -ingenuous and, at the same time, deep and grave and tragic. She cries -still when she is happy, and is also able to cry when she is sad. She -adores to be praised; but, unlike some other dancers I know, she is also -anxious for criticism. She solicits it. And when she feels the criticism -is sound, she does her best to correct—at least for the moment—the -faults that have prompted it. Her devotion to her -mother—“Mamochka”—herself an attractive, voluble, and highly emotional -woman, is touching and sometimes a shade pathetic. Toumanova’s whole -life, career, and story have been, for the most part, the -thrice-familiar tale of the White Russian <i>émigré</i>. Like all <i>émigré</i> -stories, hers is extremely sentimental. Sentiment and sentimentality -play a big part in Tamara’s life.</p> - -<p>She is, I feel, unbreakable, unquenchable. She is, in her maturity, even -more beautiful than she was as a “baby ballerina.” She is, I suppose, -precisely the popular conception of what a glamorous <i>ballerina</i> is, or -at least should be. Her personality is that of a complete theatrical -extrovert. The last row of the gallery is her theatre target. Hers is -not a subtle personality. It is a sort of motion picture idea of a -<i>ballerina assoluta</i>, a sort of reincarnation of the fascinating -creatures from whose carriages adoring balletomanes unhitched the horses -and hauled them to Maxim’s for supper, dining the course of which the -creatures were toasted in vintage champagne drunk from slippers. It -doesn’t really matter that her conception is a bit dated. With Toumanova -it is effective.</p> - -<p>Tamara’s conception of the ballerina in these terms is deliberate. She -admits her desire is to smash the audience as hard as she can. With her -a straight line is veritably the shortest distance between two points, -and no <i>ballerina</i> makes the distance between herself and her audience -so brief. This conception has been known to lead to overacting and to -the ignoring of the colleagues with whom she is dancing at the time.</p> - -<p>There is with her, as ever, great charm, an eager enthusiasm, and I am -happy to say, a fine sense of loyalty. This is a quality I particularly -appreciate. It has been shown to me on more than one occasion. When I -brought the Paris Opera Ballet for the New York City Festival, Tamara -was not nor had she been at that time a member of the Paris Opera -Company. She barely knew Lifar, yet it was she who became his champion -in New York. It was a calculated risk to her career which she took, -because she respected Lifar as an artist, did not believe the stories -about him, and was interested in fair play.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_170">{170}</a></span></p> - -<p>As I watch Toumanova today, I see but an extension in time, space and -years of the “baby ballerina” in her adult personality; there is still -an extravagant and dazzling glamor; there is still steely technique; -there is still a childlike naivete about her, even when she tries to be -ever so sophisticated; everything about her is still dramatic and -dramatized. And there is still “Mamochka,” in constant attendance, -helping, criticizing, urging; and although Tamara has been happily -married for a decade or so, “Mamochka” is still the watchdog. Many -ballet “mamas” are not only difficult, but some of them are overtly -disliked. Toumanova’s mother is another category. She has been at all -times a fine and constructive help to Tamara, both with practical -assistance and theoretical advice.</p> - -<p>Tamara’s approach to the dance is beautiful to observe. Her devotion to -ballet amounts almost to a religion. Nothing under the sun is more -important to her than her work, her attendance at lessons. Nothing ever -is permitted to interfere with these.</p> - -<p>I firmly believe that such is her concentration and devotion to her work -that, if a fire were to break out back-stage during a performance while -Tamara was in the midst of her fabulous <i>fouetées</i>, she would continue -with them, completely unperturbed, more intent on <i>fouetées</i> than on -fire.</p> - -<p>The Montreal discussions with the Ballet Theatre direction on the -subject of guest stars produced no understanding of the situation; only -the tiresomely reiterated, “It’s a sacrilege! It’s a crime!”</p> - -<p>What was a “crime” then, was a sheer necessity. Let us look, for a -moment, at the Ballet Theatre situation today, after it is no longer -under my management, but entirely on its own, responsible for its own -destiny. During the last year of our association, following the -resignation of J. Alden Talbot as managing director, as I have pointed -out, Lucia Chase, who pays the bills, and Oliver Smith became joint -managing directors. They were running the company when we came to a -parting of the ways. It was they who protested most bitterly over the -guest-star system. Now, with the company, after thirteen years of -existence, presumably established, Miss Chase is firmly perpetrating the -same “crime” herself. I certainly do not object to it. But surely what -was a “sacrilege,” what was a “crime” at the time I was responsible for -their perpetration, must, now that the Ballet Theatre is on its own, no -longer be either sacrilegious or criminal.</p> - -<p>Another recurring trouble source and the cause of many a con<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_171">{171}</a></span>tentious -discussion was the question of new productions. The arguments and -conferences over them were seemingly endless. Now the question of new -productions is one of the most vital and important in ballet management, -and one of the most pressing. All ballet management contracts call for a -ballet company to supply a certain number of new works each year. The -reason for this is that there must be a constant flow of new ballets in -a repertoire in order to attract the attention of both the critics and -the public. Standard works form the core of any repertoire and at least -one is necessary on every programme. But ballet itself, in order to keep -from becoming stagnant, must refresh itself by constantly expanding its -repertoire. Frequently, in contrast to the undying classics, nothing can -be deader than last years “novelty.” My contractual arrangement provides -that the management shall have the right either to accept or reject new -work as being acceptable or otherwise.</p> - -<p>As time went on, many of the new works produced, some of which were -accepted by me against my sounder judgment, proved, as I feared, to be -unacceptable to the general public throughout the country. It should be -clearly understood that ballet cannot live on New York alone. America is -a large continent, and the hinterland audiences, while lacking, perhaps, -some of the quality of sophistication of metropolitan audiences, are -highly selective and quite as critical today as are their New York -counterparts. A New York success is by no means an assurance of a like -reception in Kalamazoo or Santa Barbara. Ballet needs both Santa Barbara -and Kalamazoo, as it needs New York. The building of repertoire should -be the joint task of the company direction and the management—since -their desired ends are the same, viz., the successful continuation of -the organization. Repertoire is a responsible and exceedingly demanding -task.</p> - -<p>It certainly required no clairvoyance on my part to discern a very -definite antagonism toward any repertoire suggestions I offered. Certain -types of ballets were badly needed and were not forthcoming. Perhaps I -can most clearly illustrate my point by recapitulating the Ballet -Theatre repertoire at the time we parted company.</p> - -<p>There were: Fokine’s heritage—<i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Carnaval</i>, (no longer -in repertoire), <i>Petroushka</i> (no longer in repertoire), <i>Spectre de la -Rose</i> (no longer in repertoire), plus two creations, <i>Bluebeard</i>, and -<i>Russian Soldier</i> (no longer in repertoire). Andrée Howard had staged -<i>Death and the Maiden</i> and <i>Lady Into Fox</i> (both dropped before I took -over the company). Bronislava Nijinska had revived <i>La<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_172">{172}</a></span> Fille Mal -Gardée</i> and <i>The Beloved One</i> (no longer in the repertoire). Anton Dolin -had revived <i>Swan Lake</i>, <i>Giselle</i> (now performed in a Balanchine -version), <i>Princess Aurora</i> (now touched up by Balanchine), and had -created <i>Quintet</i> (dropped after the first season), <i>Capriccioso</i> -(dropped in the second season), <i>Pas de Quatre</i> (now done in a version -by Keith Lester), and <i>Romantic Age</i> (no longer in the repertoire). -Leonide Massine had revived <i>The Fantastic Toy Shop</i>, <i>Capriccio -Espagnol</i>, and <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i> (all out of repertoire). He had -produced three new works, <i>Don Domingo</i>, <i>Aleko</i>, and <i>Mlle. Angot</i>, -none of which was retained in the repertoire. Antony Tudor had revived -<i>The Lilac Garden</i>, <i>Judgment of Paris</i>, <i>Dark Elegies</i>, <i>Gala -Performance</i>, and had produced <i>Pillar of Fire</i>, <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, -<i>Dim Lustre</i>, and <i>Undertow</i>, none of which remain. Agnes de Mille had -produced <i>Black Ritual</i>, <i>Three Virgins and a Devil</i>, and <i>Tally-Ho</i>, -none of which is actively in the repertoire. José Fernandez had produced -a Spanish work, <i>Goyescas</i>, which lasted only the first season. David -Lichine had revived <i>Graduation Ball</i>, and had produced <i>Helen of Troy</i> -and <i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i> (the latter no longer in repertoire). Adolph -Bolm had revived his <i>Ballet Mecanique</i> (first season life only), -produced <i>Peter and the Wolf</i>, a perennial stand-by, and the short-lived -version of <i>Firebird</i>. John Taras had contributed <i>Graziana</i>, and Simon -Semenoff a version of <i>Coppélia</i> and <i>Gift of the Magi</i>, neither of the -three existing today. Jerome Robbins’s <i>Fancy Free</i> and <i>Interplay</i> -remain while his <i>Facsimile</i> has been forgotten. Balanchine had revived -<i>Apollo</i>, <i>Errante</i>, and had produced <i>Waltz Academy</i>, all of which have -disappeared.</p> - -<p>In order to save the curious reader the trouble of any computation, this -represents a total of fifty-one ballets either produced during my -association with Ballet Theatre or else available at the time we joined -hands. From this total of fifty-one, a round dozen are performed, more -or less, today. A cursory glance will reveal that the repertoire was -always deficient in classical works. They are the backbone of ballet. It -is to be regretted that the Tudor ballets, which were the particular -glory of Ballet Theatre, have been lost to the public.</p> - -<p>I shall not labor the point of our differences, save to cite one work as -an example. That is the production of <i>Firebird</i>. This was the first -Stravinsky ballet for Diaghileff, and was first revealed in Fokine’s -original production at the Paris Opera in the Diaghileff season of 1910, -with Tamara Karsavina in the title role, Fokine himself as the handsome -Tsarevich, Enrico Cecchetti as the fearsome Kastchei, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_173">{173}</a></span> Vera Fokina -as the beautiful Tsarevna whom the Tsarevich marries at the end. In -later productions Adolph Bolm took Fokine’s place as the Tsarevich. The -original settings and costumes were by Golovine. For a later Diaghileff -revival the immensely effective production by Nathalie Gontcharova was -created. This was the production revealed here by the de Basil company, -a quite glorious spectacle.</p> - -<p><i>Firebird</i> had always been a popular work when well done. From a musical -point of view it has been one of the most popular works in the -Stravinsky catalogue, both in orchestral programmes and over the radio. -One of the surest ways to attract the public to ballet is through -musical works of established popularity. This does not mean works that -are cheap or vulgar, for vulgarity and popularity are by no stretch of -the imagination synonymous: it means <i>Swan Lake</i>, <i>The Nutcracker</i>, <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, <i>Schéhérazade</i>, <i>Coppélia</i>, <i>Petroushka</i>, -<i>Firebird</i>—I mention only a few—the music of which has become -familiar, well-known, and loved through the medium of radio and -gramophone recordings. This is the music that brings people to ballets -of which it is a part.</p> - -<p>Miss Chase was flatly opposed to <i>Firebird</i>. Her co-director had no -choice but to follow her lead. I was insistent that <i>Firebird</i> be given -as one of the new productions required under our contract for the season -1945-1946; and then the trouble began in earnest.</p> - -<p>There were various dissident elements in the Ballet Theatre -organization, as there are in all ballet companies. These elements had -no very clear idea of what they wanted, or for what they stood. Their -vision was cloudy, their aims vague, their force puny. The company -lacked not only any artistic policy, but also a managing director -capable of formulating one, and able to mould these various dissident -elements into what Miss Chase liked to call her “organic whole.”</p> - -<p>With the exception of J. Alden Talbot and German Sevastianov, there had -never been a managing director or manager worthy of the title or the -post. During the Talbot regime, my relations with the Ballet Theatre -were at their highest level. I always found Talbot helpful, -understanding towards our mutual problems, cooperative, of assistance in -many ways. Because of his belief in the organization and his genuine -love for ballet, Talbot gave his services as general manager without fee -or compensation of any sort other than the pleasure of helping the -company. It is almost entirely thanks to Talbot that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_174">{174}</a></span> <i>Fancy Free</i> -achieved production. Talbot was also instrumental in founding and -maintaining an organization known as <i>Ballet Associates</i>, later to -become <i>Ballet Associates in America</i>, since the function of the society -is to cultivate ballet in general in America in the field of -understanding, and, more specifically and particularly, to encourage, -promote and foster those creative workers whose artistic collaboration -makes ballet possible, viz., choreographers, composers, and designers. -The practical function of the society is very practical indeed, for it -means finding that most necessary fuel: money. The organization, through -the actively moving spirit of J. Alden Talbot, sponsored by substantial -contributions no less than four Ballet Theatre productions: Tudor’s -<i>Pillar of Fire</i> and <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, Agnes de Mille’s <i>Tally-Ho</i>, -and Dolin’s <i>Romantic Age</i>. It was entirely responsible for Michael -Kidd’s <i>On Stage!</i></p> - -<p>A cultured, able gentleman of charm, taste, and sensitivity, J. Alden -Talbot was the only person associated with Ballet Theatre direction able -to give it a sound direction, since he was able not only to shape a -definite policy, which is vastly important, but also to give it a sound -business management.</p> - -<p>Following Talbot’s departure, there came frequent changes in management, -changes seemingly made largely for purely personal reasons. At the time -of the stresses and strains over the inclusion of <i>Firebird</i> into the -repertoire, although Lucia Chase and Oliver Smith were the titular -managing directors, there was no head to the organization and no -director or direction, in fact. Actually, caprice was at the helm and -Ballet Theatre had a flapping rudder, a faulty compass, with Chase and -Smith taking turns at the wheel trying to keep the badly listing ship -into the wind. Acting as manager was a former stage-manager, without -previous experience or any knowledge whatever of the intricate problems -of business management. With the enthusiasm of an earnest Boy Scout, he -commenced a barrage of bulletins and directives, and ludicrously -introduced calisthenics classes for the dancers, complete with -dumb-bells, down to the institution of his own conception of the -“Stanislavsky” method of dramatic expression, the latter taking the form -of setting the company to acting out charades on the trains while on -tour.</p> - -<p>Coincidental with this was increased intrigue and the outward expression -of his theme song, which he chanted to all within earshot, the burden of -which was: “How can we get rid of Hurok? How can we get rid of Hurok? -Who needs him?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_175">{175}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>The question of the <i>Firebird</i> production was, as I have suggested, the -most contentious and controversial of any that arose in my relationships -with Ballet Theatre.</p> - -<p><i>Firebird</i> was hounded by troubles of almost every description, as each -day upturned them. Its production was marked by disputes, aggravations, -and untold difficulties from first to last. If history is to be -believed, that sort of thing has been its lot from its inception in the -Diaghileff days of 1910.</p> - -<p>The Adolph Bolm production eventually reached the stage of the -Metropolitan Opera House, after a series of vicissitudes, on the night -of the 24th October, 1945, with Alicia Markova in the title role, and -Anton Dolin in the role of Ivan Tsarevich, originally danced in the -Diaghileff production by Michel Fokine.</p> - -<p>The <i>Firebird</i> is an expensive work to produce; there are numerous -scenes, each requiring its own setting and a large complement of -costumes. In order to help overcome some of the financial problems -involved, I agreed with Ballet Theatre to contribute a certain sum to -the cost of production. I shall have something more to say about this a -bit later.</p> - -<p>As for the work itself, I can only say that the conception and the -performance were infinitely superior to that which, in these latter -days, is given by the New York City Ballet, to which organization, as a -gesture, I gave the entire production for a mere token payment so far as -the original costs to me were concerned.</p> - -<p>Under my contractual arrangements with Ballet Theatre, the organization -was obligated to provide a new second ballet for the season. I felt -<i>Firebird</i> had great audience-drawing possibilities. Ballet Theatre -insisted <i>Firebird</i> was too expensive to produce and countered with the -suggestion that Antony Tudor would stage a work on the musical base of -Bartok’s <i>Concerto for Orchestra</i>. While this work would have been -acceptable to me, I could discover no evidence that it was in -preparation.</p> - -<p>Pursuing the matter of <i>Firebird</i>, Ballet Theatre informed me they were -not in a position to expend more than $15,000 in any production. I -suggested they prepare careful estimates on the cost of <i>Firebird</i>. This -was done—at least, they showed me what purported to be estimates—and -these indicated the costs would be something between $17,000 and -$20,000. Therefore, in order to ease their financial burden, I offered -to pay the costs of the production in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_176">{176}</a></span> excess of $15,000, but not to -exceed $5,000. And so it was, at last, settled.</p> - -<p>We had all agreed on a distinguished Russian painter, resident in -Hollywood, a designer of reputation, who not only had prepared a work -for Ballet Theatre, but whose contributions to ballet and opera with -other organizations had been considerable.</p> - -<p>Despite these arrangements, as time went on, there were definite -indications that <i>Firebird</i> would not be ready for the opening date at -the Metropolitan Opera House, which had been agreed upon. No activity -concerning it was apparent, and Adolph Bolm, its choreographer, was -still in Hollywood. On the 15th September, I addressed an official -letter to Ballet Theatre concerning the delay.</p> - -<p>While no reply to this was forthcoming, I subsequently learned that, -without informing the original designer who had been engaged and -contracted to design the scenery and costumes, and who had finished his -task and had turned his designs over to the scene painters, without -informing the choreographer, without informing me, Ballet Theatre had -surreptitiously engaged another designer, who also was at work on the -same subject. We were now faced with two productions of the same work -which would, of course, require payment.</p> - -<p>A telephone call from Ballet Theatre to one of my staff, however, added -the interesting information that <i>Firebird</i> (in any production) would -not be presented until I paid them certain moneys. The member of my -staff who received this message, quite rightly refused to accept the -message, and insisted it should be in writing.</p> - -<p>It was not until the 23rd October, the day before the work was scheduled -to be produced, that Oliver Smith, of the Ballet Theatre direction, -threatened officially to delay the production of <i>Firebird</i> until I paid -them the sum they demanded. In other words, Ballet Theatre would not -present the Stravinsky work, and it would not open, unless I paid them -$11,824.87 towards its costs. These unsubstantiated costs included those -of <i>both</i> productions, all in the face of my definite limitation of -$5,000 to be paid on <i>one</i> production, since it was impossible to -imagine that there would be <i>two</i> of them.</p> - -<p>Here was an ultimatum. The Metropolitan Opera House was already sold out -to an audience expecting to see the new <i>Firebird</i>. All-out advertising -and promotion had been directed towards that event. The ultimatum was, -in effect, no money, no production.</p> - -<p>It was, in short, a demand for money under duress, for which<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_177">{177}</a></span> there is a -very ugly word. At any rate, here was a <i>bona fide</i> dispute, a matter to -be discussed; and I suggested that Ballet Theatre submit the matter to -arbitration, both disputants agreeing, of course, to be bound by the -arbiter’s decision.</p> - -<p>Lucia Chase, Oliver Smith, and Ballet Theatre’s new general manager -refused to submit the matter to arbitration. The ultimatum remained: no -money, no performance. The sold-out house had been promised <i>Firebird</i>. -The public was entitled to see it.</p> - -<p>I paid them $11,824.87, the sum they demanded, under protest, noting -this money was demanded and paid under duress. <i>Firebird</i> had its first -performance the next night, as scheduled. Meanwhile, the dress-rehearsal -that afternoon had been marked by a succession of scenes that can only -be characterized as disgraceful, the whole affair being conducted in an -atmosphere of tensity, ill-feeling, carping, with every possible -obstacle being placed in the way of a satisfactory performance and -devoid of any spirit of cooperation.</p> - -<p>It soon became apparent to me that the troubles attendant upon the -<i>Firebird</i> production were merely symptomatic of something much larger, -something much more sinister; something that was, in effect, a -conspiracy to break the contract between us, a contract which was to -continue for yet another season.</p> - -<p>I learned through reliable sources that Ballet Theatre was -surreptitiously attempting to secure bookings on their own with some of -the local managers with whom I had booked them in the past, and with -whom I was endeavoring to make arrangeents for them for the ensuing -season. On the 28th February, I served official notice on the -directorate of Ballet Theatre calling upon them to cease this illegal -and unethical practice, and, at the same time, notified all managers of -my contract with the organization.</p> - -<p>It was early in our 1946 spring engagement at the Metropolitan Opera -House, and I was working alone one evening in my office. It was late, -the staff having long since left, and I continued at my desk until it -was time for me to leave for the Metropolitan Opera House. I had not -dined, intending to have a bite in Sherry’s Bar during one of the -intervals. As I was crossing the by now deserted and partly darkened -lower lobby of my office building, a stranger lunged forward from the -shadows and thrust a sheaf of papers into my hand, then hurried into the -street. Surprised, astonished, puzzled, I returned to my office to -examine them.</p> - -<p>The papers were a summons and complaint from Ballet Theatre.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_178">{178}</a></span> Although -my contract with the organization had another year still to run, Lucia -Chase and Oliver Smith were attempting to cancel the contract in -mid-season. The grounds on which the action was based, as were -subsequently proved, had no basis in fact.</p> - -<p>But the company was slipping. It had no policy, no one capable of -formulating or maintaining one. It was losing valuable members of its -personnel, some of whom could no longer tolerate the whims and -capriciousness of “Dearie,” as Chase was dubbed by many in the company. -Jerome Robbins had gone his way. Dorati, who gave the organization the -only musical integrity and authority it had, had departed. Others, I -knew, were soon to be on their way. Dry rot was setting in. As matters -stood, with the direction as it was, I had no assurance of any permanent -survival for it. The company continued from day to day subject to the -whims of Lucia Chase. The result was insecurity for the dancers, with -all of them working with a weather-eye peeled for another job. One more -season of this company, I felt, and I would be responsible for dragging -a corpse about the country, unless, of course, I should myself become a -corpse.</p> - -<p>Ballet Theatre’s lawyers and my trusted counsel of many years’ standing, -Elias Lieberman, arranged a settlement of our contract. Among its -clauses was a proviso that the properties for <i>Firebird</i> remained my -property, together with a cash payment to me of $12,000.</p> - -<p>When the final papers were signed, we all shook hands. The parting -between us may be described as “friendly.”</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>What the future of Ballet Theatre may be, I have no way of knowing. I am -not a prophet; I am a manager. Ballet Theatre’s subsequent career has -not been particularly eloquent; not especially fortunate. There has been -a period when there was no ballet season, with the decision to spend a -“sabbatical” coming so late that many artists were left with no -employment at a time of the year when all other possibilities for work -with other companies had been exhausted. My own feeling, while wishing -them well, is that, so long as Ballet Theatre continues to have no -categorical policy or practice, and so long as it attempts to continue -with expediency dictating its equivocal programme, its future is -circumscribed. It is an axiom that a ballet company’s character is -determined by the personality of its director.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_179">{179}</a></span></p> - -<p>However many collaborators Miss Chase may have on paper, Ballet Theatre -is and will remain her baby. Co-directors, advisory boards, even the -tax-exempt, non-profit organization called Ballet Theatre Foundation, -formed in 1947, as a “sponsoring” group, do not alter the fact that Miss -Chase is its sponsor. She pays the piper and the organization will dance -to his melody. Sponsoring groups of the type I have mentioned have -little value or meaning today. Ballet will not achieve health by -dripping economic security down from the top. The theory that propping -can be done by this method of dripping props from the top, does not mean -from the top of ballet, but, hopefully, from the top of the social and -financial worlds.</p> - -<p>Healthy ballet cannot come, in my opinion, from being treated as an -outlet or excuse for parties, nor from parties as an adjunct to ballet. -The patronage of the social world in such organizations is practically -meaningless today. It was useful, in bygone days, to have a list of -fancy names out of the Blue Book as patrons. The large paying audience -which ballet must have, and which I have developed through the years, -certainly pays no attention to social patronage today. As a matter of -fact, I suspect they resent it. The only people conceivably impressed by -such a list of names would be a handful of social climbers and society -columnists. The only patrons worth the ink to print their names are -those who pay for tickets at the box-office, average citizens, even as -you and I.</p> - -<p>Ballet cannot pay for itself, for new productions, for commissioned -works, by its box-office takings, any more than can opera or symphony -orchestras. The only future I can see is some form of Government subsidy -for ballet and the other arts. Some of our leading spirits in the fields -of art are opposed to this idea. This is difficult for me to understand. -I cannot conceive how there could be any hesitancy on that score. We -know that in Great Britain and in most countries of Europe the arts, -including ballet, are subsidized by the Government. These countries are -not Communist-dominated. Here in the United States many big businesses -are subsidized by the Government in one form or another, at one time or -another. There are the railways, the airlines, the shipping companies, -the mine subsidies, the oil subsidies—and the something like -twenty-seven-and-one-half percent deduction allowed annually on new -buildings erected is also a form of subsidy.</p> - -<p>In the United States only the arts and the artists are taboo when it -comes to Government help. I do not suggest that any of the arts<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_180">{180}</a></span> should -be dependent upon charity, either by individuals or foundations. I feel -it is the plain duty of Government and of the lawmakers to finance and -subsidize the arts: ballet, orchestras, opera, painters, sculptors, -writers, composers.</p> - -<p>A country with the tremendous wealth we have should not have to depend -on charity or hobbyists for the advancement of culture and cultural -activities.</p> - -<p>Since we still lack what I feel is the only proper form of cultural -subsidy, we needs must get on as best we can with the private hobbyist -support. In this respect, Lucia Chase has been an extremely generous -sponsor of Ballet Theatre. I have said that a ballet company’s character -is determined by the personality of its director. I should like to add, -by the personality of its sponsor as well. Let us look at the -personality of Lucia Chase.</p> - -<p>With a fortune compounded in unequal parts of Yonkers Axminster and -Waterbury Brass, her largess has been tossed with what has seemed akin -to reckless abandon. A lady of “middle years,” she was born in -Waterbury, Connecticut, one of several children of a member of the Chase -Brass Company clan. A cultured lady, she went to the “right” finishing -school, did the “right” things, and, it is said, early evinced an -interest in singing and in the theatre. She married Thomas Ewing, to -whom the sobriquet, “the Axminster carpet tycoon,” has been applied. On -his death, Miss Chase was left with a fortune and two sons. Her -distraction over the loss of her husband, so it is said, drove her to an -early love as a possible means of assuaging her grief, viz., the dance. -She took ballet lessons from Mikhail Mordkin; financed the newly formed -Mordkin Ballet; in 1937, became its <i>prima ballerina</i>. So far as the -record reveals, her debut was made in the Brass City of her birth, in no -less a role than the Princess Aurora in <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, she is an excellent comedienne; yet for years she fancied -herself as a classical <i>ballerina</i>. Her insistence on dancing in such -ballets as <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, <i>Giselle</i>, <i>Pas de Quatre</i>, -<i>Petroushka</i>, <i>Princess Aurora</i>, and most of all, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, was -so regrettable that it raises the question that, if she is so -unconscious of her own limitations as a dancer, what are her -qualifications for the directorship of a ballet company?</p> - -<p>At the beginning of every venture, at the inception of every new idea, -Lucia Chase bursts with a remarkable, pulsating enthusiasm. Then, after -a time, turning a deaf ear to the voice of experience,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_181">{181}</a></span> and discovering -to her astonishment that things have not worked out as she expected, she -sulks, tosses all ideas of policy aside, and then turns impatiently and -impulsively to something that is in the way of a new adventure. Off she -goes on a new tack. Eagerly and rashly she grasps frantically at the -next idea or suggestion forthcoming from any one who is, at that moment, -in favor. So, she thinks, this time I have got it!... The pattern -repeats itself endlessly and expensively.</p> - -<p>It started thus, with her financing of the Mordkin Ballet, before the -days of Ballet Theatre. With the Mordkin Ballet, aside from financing -it, she danced; danced the roles of only the greatest <i>ballerinas</i>. This -pleasure she had. So far as operating a ballet company is concerned, she -still leaps about without a policy, and each time the result seems -unhappily to follow the same disappointing pattern.</p> - -<p>Above all, Lucia Chase has what amounts to sheer genius for taking the -wrong advice and for surrounding herself with, for the most part, -inexperienced, unqualified, and mediocre advisers. Her most successful -years were those when, by happy chance rather than by any design, the -organization was managed and directed by the able J. Alden Talbot, -informed gentleman of taste and business ability. It was during the -Talbot regime that Miss Chase had her smallest deficits and Ballet -Theatre attained its period of highest achievement.</p> - -<p>When left to her own devices, Miss Chase is, so far as policy is -concerned, uncertain, undetermined, irresolute, and meandering. The -future of Ballet Theatre as a serious institution in our cultural life -is questionable, in my opinion, because Miss Chase, after all these -years, has not yet learned how to conduct or discipline a ballet -company; has not learned that important policy decisions are not made -because of whims. Because of these things, the organization as it -stands, possesses no real and firm basis for sound artistic achievement, -progress, or permanence. There is no indication of personality, or -color, or any real authority in the company’s conduct. More and more -there are indications or intimations of some sort of middle-of-the-road -policy—if it really is policy and not a temporary whim; even so there -is no indication whatsoever of the destination towards which the vehicle -is bound.</p> - -<p>With lavish generosity, Lucia Chase has spent fantastic sums of money on -Ballet Theatre and on its predecessor, the Mordkin<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_182">{182}</a></span> Ballet. Since Ballet -Theatre is a non-profit organization and corporation, a substantial part -of this money may be said to be the taxpayer’s money, since it is -tax-exempt. Since the ultimate aim of the organization has not been -attained, since it has not assumed aesthetic responsibility, or -respected vital tradition, or preserved significant masterpieces of -every style, period, and origin, as does an art museum, and as was -announced and avowed to be its intention; since it has not succeeded in -educating the masses for ballet; it must be borne in mind that the -remission of taxes in such cases is largely predicated upon the -educational facets of such an organization whose taxes are remitted.</p> - -<p>I would be the last person to deny that Miss Chase has made a -contribution to ballet in our time. To do so would be ridiculous. But I -do insist that, whatever good she has done, almost invariably she has -negated it and contradicted it by an impulsive capriciousness.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_183">{183}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="c_11">11.</a> Indecisive Interlude: De Basil’s Farewell and A Pair of Classical Britons</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">W</span><b>ITH</b> Ballet Theatre gone its own way, I was placed in a serious -predicament. According to a long established and necessary custom, -bookings throughout the country are made at least a season in advance. -This is imperative in order that theatres, halls, auditoriums may be -properly engaged and so that the local managers may arrange their -series, develop their promotional campaigns, sell their tickets, thus -reducing to as great an extent as possible the element of risk and -chance involved.</p> - -<p>Since my contract with Ballet Theatre had had one more year to run, the -transcontinental bookings for the Ballet Theatre company had been made -for the entire season. It was necessary for me to keep faith with the -local managers who had built their seasons around ballet and, since -local managers have faith both in me and in the quality of the ballet I -present, I was on a spot. The question was: what to do?</p> - -<p>Something had to be done to fulfil my obligations. I had no regrets -about the departure of Ballet Theatre, other than that personal wrench I -always feel at parting company with something to which I have given so -much of myself. The last weeks with Ballet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_184">{184}</a></span> Theatre added nothing but -trouble. There was a ludicrous contretemps in the nation’s capital. -Jascha Horenstein, for some reason known only to himself, put down his -baton before the beginning of the long coda at the end of <i>Swan Lake</i>, -and walked out of the pit. As he departed, he left both the dancers and -the National Symphony Orchestra players suspended in mid-air, with -another five minutes left for the climax of the ballet. As a -consequence, the performance ended in a debacle.</p> - -<p>Matters balletic were in a bad way. It is times such as these that -present me with a challenge. There is no easy solution; and frequently, -almost usually, such solutions as there are, are reached by trial and -error. This was no exception.</p> - -<p>I began the trial and error period by building up, as an experiment, the -Markova-Dolin company, with a group of dancers, including André Eglevsky -and soloists, together with a <i>corps de ballet</i> largely composed of -Ballet Theatre personnel that had broken away because of dissatisfaction -of one sort or another. In addition to Markova, Dolin, and Eglevsky, the -company included Margaret Banks, a Sadler’s Wells trained dancer from -Vancouver, Roszika Sabo, Wallace Siebert, and others, with young John -Taras as choreographer and ballet-master. The reader who has come this -far will realize some of the problems involved in building up a -repertoire. Here we were, starting from scratch.</p> - -<p>The two basic works were a <i>Giselle</i>, staged by Dolin, with Markova in -her best role, and <i>Swan Lake</i>. In staging the second act of <i>Swan -Lake</i>, Dolin used a setting designed by the Marquessa de Cuevas for the -International Ballet. Dolin also mounted the last act of <i>The -Nutcracker</i>. John Taras staged a suite of dances from Tchaikowsy’s -<i>Eugene Onegin</i>; and the balance of the repertoire was made up from -various classical excerpts.</p> - -<p>Milwaukee, Chicago, and Detroit were selected as try-out towns in the -spring of 1946. The celestial stars that hung over the experiment cannot -be called benign. The well-worn adage that it never rains but it pours, -was hardly ever better instanced than in this case. It was the spring of -the nation-wide railway strike, and the dates of our performances -coincided with it. By grace of the calendar we managed to get the -company to Milwaukee, where the company’s first performances were given -at the old Pabst Theatre. By interurban street-car and trucks we got the -company to the Chicago Opera House. There the difficulties multiplied. -Owing to the firm<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_185">{185}</a></span> restrictions placed upon the use of electricity in -public places, in order to conserve the dwindling coal supply, it was -impossible to light the Opera House auditorium or foyers, which were -swathed in gloom, broken only by faint spots of dull glow emanating from -a few oil lanterns. The current for the stage lighting was supplied from -a United States Coast Guard vessel, which we had, with great difficulty, -persuaded to move along the river side of the Opera House, to the -engine-room of which vessel we ran cables from the stage. The ship could -generate just enough “juice” for stage purposes only. That “just enough” -might have been precisely that in computed wattage; but it was direct -current. Our lighting equipment operated on alternating current, and, by -the time the “juice” was converted, the actual power was limited to the -point that, try as the technical staff did, the best we were able to -obtain was a sort of passable low visibility on the stage.</p> - -<p>To add to the general fun, the Coast Guard vessel broke loose from its -moorings, floated across the Chicago River, destroyed some pilasters of -the <i>Chicago Daily News</i> and jammed the Randolph Street drawbridge of -the City of Chicago, adding to the general confusion, to say nothing of -the costs.</p> - -<p>When it came time for the company to move to Detroit, no trains were -running, and buses and trucks would not cross state lines. It took some -master-minding on the part of our staff to arrange to have the company, -baggage cars and all, attached to a freight train, which was carrying -permitted perishable fruits and vegetables. In Detroit, the slump had -set in. The feeling of depression engendered by the darkened buildings -and streets, the dimly-lighted theatres, the murk of stygian -restaurants, together with the fact that the Detroit engagement had to -be played at one of the “legitimate” theatres rather than at the Masonic -Temple which, for years, had been the local home for ballet, played -havoc with the engagement; people, bewildered by the situation, one -which was as darkness is to light, were discouraged and daunted. They -remained away from the theatre in droves and the losses were fantastic.</p> - -<p>Using the word in the best theatrical sense and tradition, it was a -catastrophe. Perhaps it was as well that it was; somehow I cannot -entirely reject the conviction that things more often than not work out -for the best, for as the company and the repertoire stood, it would not -fill the bill. Nor was there anything like sufficient time to build -either a company or a repertoire.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_186">{186}</a></span></p> - -<p>The projected Markova-Dolin company was placed in mothballs. The -problems, so far as the ensuing season was concerned, remained critical.</p> - -<p>The Markova-Dolin combination was to emerge later in a different form. -For the present it marked time, while I pondered the situation, with no -solution in sight.</p> - -<p>At this crucial moment an old friend, Nicholas Koudriavtzeff, entered -the picture. An American citizen of long standing, by birth he was a -member of an old aristocratic Russian family. His manner, his life, his -thinking are Continental. A man of fine culture, he is an idealistic -business man of the theatre and concert worlds; a gentle, kind, able -person, with an irresistible penchant for getting himself involved, for -swimming in waters far beyond his depth, largely because of his -idealism, together with his warmheartedness and his gentleness. It is -this very gentleness, coupled with a certain softness, that makes it -almost impossible for him to say “no” to anyone.</p> - -<p>He is married to a former Diaghileff dancer and de Basil soloist, -Tatiana Lipkovska. They divide their homes between New York and Canada, -where he is one of the leading figures in Montreal’s musical-balletic -life, and where, on a gracious farm, he raises glorious flowers, fruits, -and vegetables for the Montreal market. His wife, in her ballet school, -passes on to aspiring pupils the sound tradition of the classical dance. -Koudriavtzeff had been mixed up in ballet, in one capacity or another, -for years. There was a time when he suffered from that contagious and -deplorable infliction: ballet gossip, in which he was a practiced -practitioner; but there are indications that he is well on his way to -recovery. He is a warm friend and a good colleague.</p> - -<p>Koudriavtzeff and I have something, I suspect, in common. Attracted and -attached to something early in life, a concept is formed, and we become -a part of that idea. From this springs a sort of congenital optimism, -and we are inclined to feel that, whatever the tribulations, all will -somehow work out successfully and to the happiness of all concerned. In -this respect, I put myself into the same category. I strongly suspect I -am infected with the same virus as Koudriavtzeff.</p> - -<p>One of my real pleasures is to linger over dinner at home. It is no -particular secret that I am something of a gourmet and I know of no -finer or more appropriate place to enjoy good food than at home. So, it -is with something of the sense of a rite that I try, as<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_187">{187}</a></span> often as the -affairs of an active life permit, sometime between half-past six and -seven in the evening to have a quiet dinner at home with Mrs. Hurok.</p> - -<p>The telephone bell, that prime twentieth century annoyance, interrupted, -as it so often does, the evening’s peace.</p> - -<p>“Won’t they let you alone?” was Mrs. Hurok’s only comment.</p> - -<p>It was Koudriavtzeff.</p> - -<p>“Call me back in half an hour.” I said.</p> - -<p>He did.</p> - -<p>“I should like to talk with you, Mr. Hurok,” he said in the rather -breathless approach that is a Koudriavtzeff conversational -characteristic.</p> - -<p>Since he was already talking, I suggested he continue—over the -telephone. But no, this was not possible, he said. He must talk to me -privately; something very secret. Could he come to my home, there and -then? Was it a matter of business? I inquired. It was. I demurred. I had -had enough of business for one day.</p> - -<p>However, there was such urgency in Koudriavtzeff’s voice, after making -due allowance for an almost perpetual urgency with Koudriavtzeff, even -in discussing the weather, that I agreed. He must have telephoned from a -booth round the corner, for Koudriavtzeff arrived, breathless, almost as -soon as I had put down the instrument.</p> - -<p>We sat down over a glass of tea. For a few minutes the conversation -concerned itself with generalities. Since I did not feel especially -social, I brought the talk around to particularities.</p> - -<p>“Well, what can I do for you?” I inquired.</p> - -<p>The story came pouring out like water from a burst dam. It developed, as -I pieced it together, that Koudriavtzeff was trying to make certain -bookings for de Basil’s Original Ballet Russe on the way back from South -America. Although there were some bookings, he had not been able to -secure sufficient dates and, under the arrangement he had made with the -“Colonel,” Koudriavtzeff was obliged to deliver. That was not all. Not -only was he short with dates; he did not have the means with which to -make the necessary campaign, even if he had obtained the dates.</p> - -<p>I pondered the situation.</p> - -<p>“Is de Basil in South America?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Koudriavtzeff. “He is here in New York.”</p> - -<p>Somehow, I could not regard this as good news.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_188">{188}</a></span></p> - -<p>I pondered the matter again.</p> - -<p>After all I had gone through with this man, I asked myself, why should I -continue to listen to Koudriavtzeff? If ever there was a time when I -should have said, firmly, unequivocally “to hell with ballet,” it was at -this moment. But I continued to listen.</p> - -<p>With one ear I was listening to the insistent refrain: “To hell with -ballet.” With the other, I was harking to my responsibilities to the -local managers, to my lease with the Metropolitan Opera House.</p> - -<p>Koudriavtzeff proceeded with his rapid-fire chatter. From it one -sentence came sharp and dear:</p> - -<p>“Will you please be so kind, Mr. Hurok? Will you, please, see de Basil?”</p> - -<p>It could have been that I was not thinking as clearly and objectively as -I should have been at that moment.</p> - -<p>I agreed.</p> - -<p>The next evening, de Basil, Koudriavtzeff, and I met.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hurok sounded the warning.</p> - -<p>“I don’t object to your seeing him,” she said, “but you’re not going in -with him again?”</p> - -<p>The meetings were something I kept from the knowledge of my office for -several days.</p> - -<p>As I have pointed out before, de Basil was a Caucasian. The Caucasians -and the Georgians have several qualities in common, not the least of -which is the love of and desire for intrigue, coupled with infinite -patience, never-flagging energy, and nerves of steel. It was perfectly -possible for de Basil to sit for days and nights on end, occasionally -uttering a few words, silent for long, long periods, but waiting, -patiently waiting. It is these alleged virtues that make the Caucasians -the most efficient and successful members of those bodies whose job it -is to practice the delicate art of the third-degree: the O.G.P.U., the -N.K.V.D.</p> - -<p>I had agreed to meet de Basil, and now I was in for it. There was one -protracted meeting after another, with each seeming to merge, without -perceptible break, into the next. The “Colonel” had a “heart,” which he -coddled; he brought with him his hypochondriacal collection of “pills,” -some of which were for his “heart,” some for other uses. With their -help, he managed to keep wide awake but impassive through night after -night. Discussion, argument; argu<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_189">{189}</a></span>ment, discussion. As the conferences -proceeded, de Basil reinforced his “pills” with his lawyers, this time -the omnipresent Lidji and Asa Sokoloff.</p> - -<p>No one could be more aware of the “Colonel’s” inherent avoidance of -honesty or any understandable code of ethics than I, yet he invariably -commenced every conversation with: “Now if you will only be sincere and -serious with me....”</p> - -<p>Always it was the other fellow who was insincere.</p> - -<p>Nearly all these meetings took place in the upper Fifth Avenue home of a -friend of de Basil’s, a former <i>Time</i> magazine associate editor, where -he was a house-guest. I cannot imagine what sort of home life he and his -wife could have had during this period when, what with the long sessions -and the constant comings and goings, the place bore a stronger -resemblance to a committee room adjacent to an American political -convention than a quiet, conservative Fifth Avenue home. Not only was -the place crowded with antiques, for de Basil’s host was a “collector,” -but the “Colonel” had piled these pieces one on the top of another to -turn the place into a warehouse. It was during the after-war shortage of -food in Europe, whither the “Colonel” was repairing as soon as he could.</p> - -<p>Here, in his host’s home, the “Colonel” had opened his own package and -shipping department. Box upon box, crate upon crate of bulky foods: -mostly spaghetti. All sorts of foods: cost cheap, bulk large.</p> - -<p>This was the first time in my ballet career that I had written down a -repertoire on cases of spaghetti. As these meetings continued, and took -the toll of human patience and endurance, we were joined by my loyal -adjutant, Mae Frohman, who was served a sumptuous dish of not -particularly tasty but certainly very filling -Russo-Caucasian-Georgian-Bulgarian negotiations.</p> - -<p>It is not to be supposed that this period was brief. It went on for -nearly three weeks, day and night.</p> - -<p>One night progress was made; but before morning we were back where we -started. Miss Frohman begged me to call off the entire business, to get -out of it while the getting was good. The more she saw and heard, the -more certain she was that her intuition was right; this was something to -be given a wide berth. But I was in it now. There was no going back.</p> - -<p>Time, however, was running out. I had booked passage to fly to Europe. -The date approached, as dates have a way of doing, until<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_190">{190}</a></span> we reached the -day before my scheduled departure. Mrs. Hurok remonstrated with me over -the whole business.</p> - -<p>“What good can come from this?” she protested. “Are you mad?”</p> - -<p>Perhaps I was.</p> - -<p>“What are you trying to do?” she went on. “Trying to kill yourself?”</p> - -<p>Perhaps I was.</p> - -<p>It was not a matter of trying; but it could be.</p> - -<p>While de Basil was working his way back from South America with his -little band, he managed to secure another engagement in Mexico City. It -was there that that interesting figure of the world of ballet and its -allied arts, the Marquis de Cuevas, saw the de Basil organization. The -Marquis, a colorful gentleman of taste and culture, is, perhaps, the -outstanding example we have today of the sincere and talented amateur in -and patron of the arts. He is a European-American, despite his South -American birth. He had a disastrous season of ballet in New York, in -1944, with his Ballet International, for which he bought a theatre, and -lost nigh on to a million dollars in a two-months’ season—which may, to -date, be the most expensive lesson in how not to make a ballet. Today -the Marquis’s company functions as a part of the European scene. During -his initial season in New York, he had created a reasonably substantial -repertoire, including four works of quality I felt could be added to the -de Basil repertoire in combination, in the event I succeeded in coming -to terms with the “Colonel.” These works were <i>Sebastian</i>, <i>The Mute -Wife</i>, <i>Constantia</i>, and <i>Pictures at an Exhibition</i>.</p> - -<p>After viewing the de Basil company in Mexico City, the Marquis had an -idea that it might be wise for him to join up with the “Colonel.” -Returning to New York, the Marquis came to me to discuss the matter. I -succeeded in dissuading him from investing and buying the worn-out -scenery, costumes, and properties, which were, to all intents and -purposes, valueless.</p> - -<p>The Marquis departed for France. As the protracted negotiations with de -Basil continued, I cabled the Marquis, informing him that I had parted -with Ballet Theatre, and that I was negotiating with de Basil. Pointing -out my obligations to the local managers, and to the Metropolitan Opera -House, I asked the Marquis if he would participate, or contribute a -certain amount of money, and add his repertoire to that of the -“Colonel.”</p> - -<p>The final de Basil conference before my scheduled departure<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_191">{191}</a></span> for Europe -commenced early. The night wore on. We were again on the verge of -reaching an agreement. By two o’clock in the morning the possibility had -diminished and receded into the same vague, seemingly unattainable -distance where it had so long rested. Then, shortly after four o’clock, -the pieces suddenly all fell into place, with all of us, including Mae -Frohman, in a state of complete exhaustion, as the verbal agreement was -reached. The bland, imperturbable, expressionless de Basil was the sole -exception, at least to outward appearances.</p> - -<p>Since my Europe-bound plane was departing within a few hours, it was -necessary that all the voluminous documents be drawn up and signed -before my departure. The lawyers, Lidji, Sokoloff, and my own legal -adviser and friend, Elias Lieberman, worked on these as we sipped hot, -black coffee, for the millionth time.</p> - -<p>The sun was bright when we gathered round a table in the Fifth Avenue -apartment where de Basil was a guest, and affixed our signatures.</p> - -<p>It was six o’clock in the morning.</p> - -<p>At twelve o’clock my plane rose over La Guardia and headed for Paris.</p> - -<p>It was the first commercial plane to make the flight to Paris after the -War. Mrs. Hurok, Mae Frohman, and Mr. and Mrs. Artur Rubinstein were at -the field to wish me “bon voyage.”</p> - -<p>In Paris I met the Marquis and Marquessa de Cuevas, the latter a -gracious lady of charm and taste. Food was short in Paris, hard to find, -and of dubious quality. Somehow, the Marquessa had been able to secure a -chicken from her farm outside Paris, and we managed a dinner. I -explained the settlement I had made with de Basil to the Marquis, and -urged his cooperation joining de Basil as Artistic Director, hoping -that, as a result, something fine could be built, given time and -patience. Such an arrangement would also permit at least some of the -Marquis’s repertoire from deteriorating in the store-house, and bring -the works before a new and larger public.</p> - -<p>Carerras, the manager for the Marquis at the time, was flatly opposed to -de Cuevas cooperating in any way with the “Colonel,” but eventually de -Cuevas decided to do what, once again, proved to be the impossible, -viz., to collaborate with the Caucasian de Basil.</p> - -<p>This much having been settled, I went on to London, where I saw the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet at Covent Garden for the first time; shortly -afterwards I left for California, to spend a little time at my<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_192">{192}</a></span> Beverly -Hills home which I had maintained during the war.</p> - -<p>On my arrival in California, there were messages from my office awaiting -me. They were disturbing. Already troubles were brewing. The de Basil -repertoire was in dubious condition. Something must be done, and at -once. Moreover, despite de Basil’s assurances, the repertoire was too -small in size and was inadequately rehearsed. I left for New York by the -first available plane.</p> - -<p>On my arrival in New York, I quickly made arrangements to send John -Taras, the young American who had been the choreographer and -ballet-master for the Markova-Dolin experiment, to South America to whip -the company into shape. With him went a group of American dancers to -augment the personnel.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, as the days sped on, every conceivable difficulty arose over -getting the de Basil company and its repertoire out of South America. -There were financial troubles. As was so often the case, de Basil had no -money. But he did have debts and other liabilities that had to be -liquidated before the company could be permitted to move. One thing -piled on another. When these matters had been straightened out, the -climax came in the form of a general strike in Rio de Janeiro, with the -situation out of hand and shooting in the streets. This prevented the -company from embarking for New York; not only was it impossible for -passengers to board the ship, but neither scenery, properties, nor -luggage could be loaded. Further delay meant that they could not arrive -in New York in time for the mid-October opening at the Metropolitan -Opera House, which I had had engaged for months, and for which season -the advertising was in full swing, the promotional work done.</p> - -<p>Once again, fast action was necessary to save the situation. In New York -we had the de Cuevas repertoire, but no company. By long distance -telephone I got John Taras to leave Rio de Janeiro for New York by -plane. I engaged yet another group of artists here in New York, and -Taras, immediately upon his arrival, commenced rehearsals with this -third group on the de Cuevas repertoire, in order to have something in -readiness to fulfil my obligations in the event that the de Basil -company was unable to reach New York in time for the opening. It was, at -best, makeshift, but at least something would be ready. The season could -open on time, and faith would be kept.</p> - -<p>While these difficulties and problems were compounding, the “Colonel” -was far from the South American battlefield. He was safely<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_193">{193}</a></span> in New York, -stirring up the already quite sufficiently troubled waters.</p> - -<p>I was more firmly convinced than ever before that to have two -closely-linked members of the same family in the same field of endeavor -is bad. Two singers in one family, I submit, is very bad. Two dancers in -one family is very, very bad. But when a manager or director of a ballet -company has a wife who is a dancer in his own company—that is the worst -of all.</p> - -<p>These profound observations are prompted by the marital complications -that provided the chief contentious bone of this period of stress. These -marital arrangements were two in number. De Basil’s first wife, who had -divorced him, had married the company’s choreographer, Vania Psota, the -creator of the late and unlamented <i>Slavonika</i>, of early Ballet Theatre -days, and both Psota and his wife were with the company, soon, I prayed, -to arrive in New York. De Basil, already in town, had married Olga -Morosova, one of the company’s artists. This was an additional -complication, for, although Morosova was only a soloist, upon her -marriage she had immediately been promoted to the role of the company’s -<i>prima ballerina</i>. All leading roles, de Basil insisted, must now be -danced by her.</p> - -<p>The arguments were almost continuous, and only a Caucasian could have -endured them, unscarred. The battle raged.</p> - -<p>To sum up, I should like to offer a word of caution. If you who read -these lines are a dancer, do not marry the manager. It cuts both ways: -if you are a manager, do not marry a dancer. If, by chance these lines -are read by one who has ambitions to become a ballet manager, do not -allow yourself any romantic connection with a dancer in the company. It -simply does not work, and it is not good for ballet, or for you.</p> - -<p>All of these continuing, persisting discussions served merely to speed -the days. Opening night was drawing perilously near, coming closer and -closer, while de Basil’s company and repertoire were still being held in -Rio de Janeiro by the general strike. The “Colonel” again needed money. -Unless the money he required was forthcoming, strike or no strike, the -company would not embark. Once again I was being held up, with the gun -at my back; on legal advice and out of sheer necessity, the money was -forthcoming.</p> - -<p>This type of blackmail, the demand for money under duress, was -threatening to become a habit in ballet, I felt. But, after all, if I -sought to allocate blame for the situation, there was no one<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_194">{194}</a></span> to whom it -could be charged except myself. It was my own fault for having consented -to listen to the siren voice of Koudriavtzeff in the first place. No one -can make greater trouble for one, I believe, than one’s own self. I had -agreed to the whole unhappy business against the considered advice of -all those in whom I had confidence and faith. There was nothing to be -done but to see it through with as much grace as I could muster. I -determined, however, to take stock. This time I was certain. I was, at -last, satisfied that when this season finished, I was finished with -ballet. No more. Never again.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>The de Basil crowd eventually arrived at a South Brooklyn pier, barely -in time, on a holiday afternoon before the Metropolitan opening. The -rush, the drive, the complicated business of clearing through customs -promised more headaches, more heartaches, and yet more unforeseen -expense. We now had two companies merged for the Metropolitan Opera -House engagement. In this respect we had been fortunate, for the de -Basil scenery and costumes were in a pitiable state of disrepair. Since -there was neither sufficient time nor money for their rehabilitation, we -provided both, and, meanwhile, had the advantage of the de Cuevas works.</p> - -<p>De Basil had been able to make but few additions to his repertoire -during the lean and long South American hegira. These were <i>Yara</i> and -<i>Cain and Abel</i>. <i>Yara</i> had been choreographed by Psota, to a score by -Francisco Mignone. It was a lengthy attempt to bring to the stage a -Brazilian legend. It had striking sets and costumes by Candido -Portinari, and little else. <i>Cain and Abel</i> was a juicy tid-bit in which -David Lichine perpetrated a “treatment” of the Genesis tale to, of all -things, cuttings and snippets from Wagner’s <i>Die Götter-Dammerung</i>. It -was a silly business.</p> - -<p>The four works from the Marquis de Cuevas repertoire were given a wider -public, and helped a bad situation. <i>Sebastian</i>, with an excitingly -dramatic score by Gian-Carlo Menotti, his first for ballet, had been -staged by Edward Caton, in a setting by Oliver Smith. It made for a -striking piece of theatre. <i>The Mute Wife</i> was a light but amusing -comedy, adapted by the American dancer-choreographer, Antonia Cobos, -from the familiar tale by Anatole France, <i>The Man Who Married a Dumb -Wife</i>, to Paganini melodies, principally his <i>Perpetual Motion</i>, -orchestrated by Vittorio Rieti. The third work, <i>Constantia</i>, was a -classical ballet by William Dollar, done to Cho<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_195">{195}</a></span>pin’s <i>Piano Concerto in -F Minor</i>, enlisting the services of Rosella Hightower, André Eglevsky, -and Yvonne Patterson. Its title, confusing to some, referred to Chopin’s -“Ideal Woman,” Constantia Gladowska, to whom the composer dedicated the -musical work.</p> - -<p>Thanks to Ballet Associates in America, there was one new work. It was -<i>Camille</i>, staged by John Taras, in quite unique settings by Cecil -Beaton, for Alicia Markova and Anton Dolin. It was a balletic attempt to -tell the familiar Dumas tale. In this case, the music, instead of being -out of Traviata by Verdi to use stud-book terminology, consisted of -Franz Schubert melodies, orchestrated by Vittorio Rieti. It was not the -success one hoped and, after seeing a later one by Tudor, to say nothing -of one by Dolin, I am more and more persuaded that <i>Camille</i> belongs to -Dumas and Verdi, to Rachel and Sarah Bernhardt, not to ballet. There was -also an unimportant but fairly amusing little <i>Pas de Trois</i>, for -Markova, Dolin, and Eglevsky, set by Jerome Robbins to the <i>Minuet of -the Will o’ the Wisps</i>, and the <i>Dance of the Sylphs</i>, from Berlioz’ -<i>The Damnation of Faust</i>. It was a burlesque, highlighted by the use of -a bit of the <i>Rákoczy March</i> as an overture, loud enough and big enough -to suggest that a ballet company of gargantuan proportions was to be -revealed by the rising curtain.</p> - -<p>The trans-continental tour compounded troubles and annoyances with heavy -financial losses. The Original Ballet Russe carried with it the heavy -liability of a legend to a vast new audience. This audience had heard of -the symphonic ballets; there were nostalgic tales told them by their -elders about the “baby ballerinas,” Toumanova, Baronova, Riabouchinska. -There were no symphonic ballets. The “baby ballerinas” had grown up and -were in other pastures. The repertoire and the interpretations revealed -the ravages of time. Perhaps the truth was that legends have an unhappy -trick of falling short of reality.</p> - -<p>While the long tour was in progress, the Marquis de Cuevas was making -arrangements with the Principality of Monaco for a season at Monte Carlo -with his own company. Immediately on getting wind of this, the “Colonel” -did his best to try to doublecross the Marquis. This time, the “Colonel” -did not succeed. For several seasons, the de Cuevas company, under the -title Grand Ballet de Monte Carlo, largely peopled with American -dancers, including Rosella Hightower, Marjorie Tallchief, Jocelyn -Vollmar, Ana Ricarda, and others, and under the choreographic direction -of John Taras, functioned<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_196">{196}</a></span> there. When his Monte Carlo contract was at -an end, the name of the company was changed to the Grand Ballet du -Marquis de Cuevas.</p> - -<p>In 1951, the Marquis brought his company to New York for a season at the -Century Theatre. It was completely unsuccessful, and while the losses -were less than the initial American season, when it was called Ballet -International, since there were no production costs to be met, much less -a theatre to be bought, it was indeed an unfortunate occasion. The -debacle, I believe, was not entirely the fault of the Marquis, since the -entire season was mismanaged and mishandled from every point of view.</p> - -<p>The long, unhappy tour of the Original Ballet Russe dragged its weary -way to a close. Nothing I could imagine would be more welcome than that -desired event. When it was all over, I was happy to see them push off to -Europe. The losses I incurred were so considerable that it still is a -painful subject on which to ponder, even from this distance of time. -Suffice it to say they were very considerable.</p> - -<p>The Original Ballet Russe had been living on its capital far too long. -In London, in 1947, the “Colonel” made an attempt to reorganize his -company. Clutching at straws, the shrewd “Colonel,” I am sure, realized -that if he had any chance for survival, it would be on the basis of a -successful London season, scene of his first triumphs. For this purpose, -he formed a new company, since almost none of the original organization -survived. It was a failure.</p> - -<p>Nothing daunted, in 1951, he was preparing to try again. Death -intervened, and Vassily Grigorievitch Voskresensky, better known to the -world of ballet as Colonel W. de Basil, was gathered to his fathers. I -was shocked but not surprised when the news reached me. He had, I knew, -been living a devil-may-care existence. We had quarrelled, argued, -fought. We had, on the other hand, worked together for a common end and -with a common belief and purpose.</p> - -<p>He was truly an incredible man.</p> - -<p>I was enjoying a brief holiday at Evian when the news came to me, -through mutual friends, that de Basil was seriously ill.</p> - -<p>“I am going to Paris to see him and to do what I can,” I told them.</p> - -<p>The next day I was at lunch when there came a telephone call from Paris. -It was his one-time agent, Mme. Bouchenet, to tell me, to my great -regret, that de Basil had just died.</p> - -<p>We had had our continuing differences, but his had been a labor<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_197">{197}</a></span> of -love; he had loved ballet passionately. He had been a truly magnificent -organizer. May he rest in peace.</p> - -<p>De Basil was, I suppose, technically an amateur in the arts; but he -managed to do a great service to ballet. By one means or another, he -formed a great ballet company. He had the vision to sponsor one of the -most revolutionary steps in ballet history since the “romantic -revolution”: Massine’s symphonic ballets. In the face of seemingly -insurmountable obstacles, he succeeded in keeping a company of warring -personalities together for years. On the financial side, still an -amateur, without the benefit of many guarantees from social celebrities -or industrial magnates, he managed to keep going. His methods were, to -say the least, unorthodox; he was amazing, fantastic, and, as I have -said, incredible. He was no Diaghileff. He was de Basil. Diaghileff was -a man of deep culture, vast erudition, an inspirer of all with whom he -came into contact. De Basil was a sharp business man, a shrewd -negotiator, an adroit manager. He was a personality. In the history of -ballet, I venture to suggest, he will be remembered as the man who was -the instrument by which and through which new life was instilled in the -art of the ballet at a time when it was in dire danger of becoming -moribund. Why and how he came to be that instrument is of little -importance. The important thing is that he <i>was</i>.</p> - -<p>At the time of de Basil’s death little remained save a memory. For four -seasons, at least, by reason of his instinct, his drive, his -collaborators, he presented to ballet something as close to perfection -as is possible to imagine. For that, all who genuinely love ballet -should be grateful.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>Although I heaved a sigh of relief when the “Colonel” and his -ragtag-bobtail band clambered aboard the ship bound for Europe, there -were still serious problems to be considered. The uppermost questions -that troubled me were merely two parts of the same query: “Why should I -go on with this ballet business?” I asked myself. “Haven’t I done -enough?”</p> - -<p>Against any affirmative answer I could give myself, were arranged two -facts: one, the magnetic “pull” ballet exerted upon me; two, the -existence of a contract with the Metropolitan Opera House, which had to -be fulfilled.</p> - -<p>So it was that, in the autumn of 1947, that I gave a short season of -ballet there. It was not a season of great ballets, but of great<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_198">{198}</a></span> -artists. The programmes centered about Alicia Markova, Anton Dolin, -André Eglevsky.</p> - -<p>From this emerged a dance-group company, compact, flexible, the -Markova-Dolin Company, which toured the country from coast to coast with -a considerable measure of success. This was not, of course, ballet in -the grand manner. It was chamber ballet; a dozen dancers, a small, -well-chosen group of artists, together with a small orchestra and -musical director. In addition to the two stars, the company included -Oleg Tupine, Bettina Rosay, Rozsika Sabo, Natalia Condon, Kirsten -Valbor, Wallace Siebert, Royes Fernandez, George Reich, with Robert -Zeller, young American conductor, protegé of Serge Koussevitsky and -Pierre Monteux, as Musical Director.</p> - -<p>The repertoire included three new works: <i>Fantasia</i>, a ballet to a -Schubert-Liszt score, with choreography by Bronislava Nijinska; <i>Henry -VIII</i>, a ballet by Rosella Hightower, to music of Rossini, arranged by -Robert Zeller, and costumes by the San Francisco designer, Russell -Hartley; <i>Lady of the Camellias</i>, another balletic version of the Dumas -tale, choreographed by Anton Dolin to portions of Verdi’s <i>La Traviata</i>, -arranged and orchestrated by Zeller; the Jerome Robbins <i>Pas de Trois</i>, -to the <i>Damnation of Faust</i> excerpts, in costumes by the American John -Pratt; and two classical works, viz., <i>Famous Dances from Tchaikowsky’s -The Nutcracker</i>, staged jointly by Markova and Dolin, with costumes by -Alvin Colt; and <i>Suite de Danse</i>, a romantic group, including some of -<i>Les Sylphides</i>, in the Fokine choreography; a Johann Strauss <i>Polka</i>, -staged by Vincenzo Celli; <i>Pas Espagnole</i>, to music by Ravina, by Ana -Ricarda; <i>Vestris Solo</i>, to music by Rossini, choreographed by Celli; -and Dolin’s delicious <i>Pas de Quatre</i>.</p> - -<p><i>Henry VIII</i>, Rosella Hightower’s first full work as a choreographer, -was no balletic masterpiece, but it provided Dolin with a part wherein, -as the portly, bearded, greatly married monarch of Britain, he was able -to dance and act in the great tradition of Red Coat, Devil of the -Ukraine, Bluebeard, Gil Blas, Tyl Eulenspiegel, Sganarelle, -Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford, and all the other picaresque heroes of -ballet, theatre, and literature. While Dolin, of course, confined -himself to the choreographer’s patterning, I should not have been -surprised if he had resorted to falling over sofas, squirting -Elizabethan soda water syphons in the face of Katherine Parr, or being -carried off to the royal bedchamber in a complete state of -intoxication.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_199">{199}</a></span></p> - -<p>While such an organization is far from ideal for the presentation of -spectacular ballet, which must have a large company, eye-filling stage -settings, and all the appurtenances of the modern theatre, since ballet -is essentially a theatre art, it nevertheless permitted us to take a -form of ballet to cities and towns where, because of physical -conditions, the full panoply of ballet at its most glamorous cannot be -given.</p> - -<p>The highlight of this tour occurred at the War Memorial Opera House, in -San Francisco, where, because of an unusual combination of -circumstances, an extremely interesting collaboration was made possible. -The San Francisco Civic Ballet, an organization that promised much in -the way of a civic supported ballet company of national proportions, had -just been formed, and with the cooperation of the San Francisco Art -Commission, and with the full San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, was -undertaking its first season. At its invitation, it was possible for us -to combine its first productions with those of the Markova-Dolin -company, and, in addition to the San Francisco Civic Ballet creations, a -splendid production of <i>Giselle</i> was made, staged by Dolin, with -Markova, according to all reports, including that of the informed -critic, Alfred Frankenstein, giving one of the most remarkable -interpretations of her long career in the title role. This tribute is -the more remarkable, since <i>Giselle</i> is one of Frankenstein’s “blind -spots” in ballet. No critic is entirely free from bias or prejudice, and -since even I admit that—countless examples to the contrary -notwithstanding—the critic is also a human being, why should he be -utterly free from those very human qualities or defects, as the case may -be?</p> - -<p>The artists of the Markova-Dolin company supplemented the San Francisco -company, with the local company supplying the production, the two groups -merging for substantial joint rehearsal. I have said the San Francisco -Civic Ballet promised much. It is to be regretted that means could not -be forthcoming to insure its permanence. Its closing was the result of -the lack of that most vital element, proper subsidy. These things shock -me.</p> - -<p>The Markova-Dolin company was no more the ultimate answer to my balletic -problem than was the Original Ballet Russe. It was, however, something -more than a satisfactory stop-gap; it was also a very pleasant -association.</p> - -<p>Markova and Dolin are a quite remarkable pair. For years their stars -were congruent. Until recently there were indications that they had -become one, a fixed constellation, supreme, serene, spar<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_200">{200}</a></span>kling. Those -gods in whose hands lie the celestial disposition have seen fit to shift -their orbits so that now each goes his or her separate course. I, for -one, cannot other than express my personal regret that this is so. One -complemented the other. I would go so far as to say that one benefited -the other. Both as individual artists and in partnership, the -distinguished pair of Britons are an ornament to their art and to their -native land.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ALICIA MARKOVA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Alicia Markova, <i>née</i> Lilian Alicia Marks, was born in London, 1st -December, 1910. Her life has been celebrated in perhaps as many volumes -and articles as any other <i>ballerina</i>, if for no other reason than that -the English seem to burst into print about ballet and to encase their -words between solid covers more extensively than any other people I -know, not excluding the French. It is almost a case of scratch an -Englishman and you will find a ballet author. Because of this extensive -bibliography, the details of Markova’s career need not concern me here, -save to establish the highlights in a public life that has been -extraordinarily successful.</p> - -<p>When Markova arrived in this country to join the Massine Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, she already had behind her a high position in British -ballet; yet she was, in a sense, shy and naive. Her father had died when -Alicia was thirteen. There were three other sisters, and an Irish -mother, who had adopted orthodox Judaism on her marriage to Alicia’s -father, all in need of support. Alicia became the head of and -bread-winner for the family. The mother worked hard at the business of -being a mother, but kept away from the theatre’s back-stage. The story -of the family life of the mother and the four daughters sounds like a -Louisa M. Alcott novel, with theatre innovations and variations.</p> - -<p>Before she became a pupil at the Chelsea studio of Seraphina Astafieva, -late of the Imperial and Diaghileff Ballets, little Alicia had been a -principal in a London Christmas pantomime and had already been labeled -“the miniature Pavlova.” It was in this studio that her path crossed -that of one Sydney Francis Patrick Chippendall Healey-Kay, soon to have -his name truncated and changed to Anton Dolin by Serge Diaghileff. It -was Dolin who brought Alicia Marks to Diaghileff’s attention, not, -however, without some difficulty. Dolin’s conversations with Diaghileff -about “the miniature Pavlova” brought only disgust from the great -founder of modern ballet. The preten<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_201">{201}</a></span>tiousness and presumptuousness of -such a title roused only repugnance in the great man.</p> - -<p>Eventually, Dolin succeeded in bringing Diaghileff to a party at the -King’s Road studio of Astafieva, where little Miss Marks, at fourteen, -danced. As a result, Diaghileff changed Marks to Markova, dropped the -Lilian, and took her, with governess, into his company, detailing one of -his current soloists, Ninette de Valois by name, to keep a weather-eye -out for the child. Markova was on her way rapidly up the ladder, with -two Balanchine creations under her <i>pointes</i>, <i>The Song of the -Nightingale</i> and <i>La Chatte</i>, when Diaghileff died.</p> - -<p>This meant a complete change of focus for Markova, in 1929. She earned a -living for herself and her family for a time dancing in the English -music halls, dancing for Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club and the Camargo -Society for buttons. After two years at Marie Rambert’s Ballet Club, -where Frederick Ashton took her in hand, as coach and teacher, adviser, -and mentor extraordinary, she became the leading <i>ballerina</i> of the -Vic-Wells Ballet, the predecessor of Sadler’s Wells, where, under the -overall guidance of Ashton and de Valois, she danced the first English -<i>Giselle</i>, the full-length <i>Swan Lake</i>, and <i>The Nutcracker</i>. Dolin was -a guest star of the Vic-Wells in those days; their stellar paths again -intertwined as they had at Astafieva’s studio, and in the Diaghileff -Ballet.</p> - -<p>In the fall of 1935, Dolin and Markova formed the Markova-Dolin Ballet, -with a full repertoire of classical works, playing London and touring -throughout Great Britain.</p> - -<p>Markova, if she is honest, and I have no reason to believe she is not, -should be the first to admit her profound debt to three persons in -ballet: Anton Dolin, who has projected her, protected her, and -occasionally pestered her; Frederick Ashton and Marie Rambert who, -jointly and severally, encouraged, advised, and guided her.</p> - -<p>In 1938, I was instrumental in having Markova join the Ballet Russe de -Monte Carlo, where she competed with Danilova, Toumanova, and Slavenska. -Her London triumph in our season at Drury Lane was not entirely -unexpected. After all, she was dancing on her home stage. Her -performance in <i>Giselle</i>, on 12th October, 1938, at the Metropolitan -Opera House, made history.</p> - -<p>There was an element in the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo direction, of -which Leonide Massine was not one, that was not at all pleased with the -idea of having Markova with the company. Despite<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_202">{202}</a></span> her great London -success, Alicia decided she would be wise not to come to America.</p> - -<p>Alicia and her mother, I remember, came to the Savoy to see me about -this. Mrs. Hurok and I urged her to reconsider her decision. She was -determined to resign from the company. She did not feel “at home” in the -organization. Although “Freddy” Franklin, who had been a member of the -Markova-Dolin Company, had joined the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, -Alicia felt alone, and she would be without Anton Dolin, and would miss -her family.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hurok and I finally succeeded in dissuading her from her avowed -intention, and in convincing her that a great future for her lay in the -United States.</p> - -<p>From the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo she came to Ballet Theatre, where, -under my management, she co-starred with Dolin. Her roles with that -company as guest star which I arranged and paid for, together with -almost one-half of her salary at other times, for Lucia Chase did not -take kindly to Alicia Markova as a member of Ballet Theatre, and the -American tour of the Markova-Dolin company, all of these I have dealt -with at length.</p> - -<p>During one of the seasons of the London Festival Ballet, which was -organized by Dolin for the two of them, the team came to a parting of -the ways. Like so many associations of this kind, the break could have -been the result of any one or more of a combination of causes. One who -is sincerely interested in both of them, expresses the hope that it may -be only a passing difference. Yet, pursuing a course I follow in the -domestic lives of my personal friends, I apply it to the artistic lives -of these two, and leave it to them to work out their joint and several -destinies. There are limits beyond which even a loyal and fond manager -may not go with impunity.</p> - -<p>One of the greatest <i>ballerinas</i> of our own or any other time, I cannot -say that Markova’s triumphs have not altered her. To be sure, although -she still has a manner that is sometimes reserved, outwardly timid, I -nevertheless happen to know that behind it all lurks a determined, -stubborn, and sometimes downright blind willfulness, coupled with a good -deal of unreasonability. It was not for nothing that she earned from -Leonide Massine the sobriquet of “Chinese Torture”—as Massine used to -put it, “like small drops of water constantly falling on the head.”</p> - -<p>As a dancer, Markova is in the straight and direct classical line, as -Michel Fokine once observed to me, while watching her Giselle.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_203">{203}</a></span></p> - -<p>Bearing these things in mind, including the fact that the gods have been -less than generous to her in matters of face and figure, I am deeply -moved by her expertness, her ethereality, her precision, her simplicity. -Yet, on the other hand, I can only deplore the stylization and mannered -quality she brings to her latter-day performances. When she is at her -best, Markova has something above and beyond technique: a certain -evanescent, purely luminous detachment. All these things reinforce my -conviction that Markova should confine herself to the great classical -interpretations, and recognize her own physical limitations, even within -this field. Her Giselle is in a class by itself. She has made the role -her own. Personally, however, I do not find she gives me the same -satisfaction as the Swan Queen, nor in Fokine’s <i>Les Sylphides</i>. To my -way of thinking, her Swan Queen, while technically precise, lacks both -that deep plumbing of the emotions and the grand, regal manner that the -role requires. Her Prelude in <i>Sylphides</i> is spoiled, in my opinion, by -excessive mannerisms.</p> - -<p>It is in <i>Giselle</i> and <i>The Nutcracker</i> that Markova can bring joy and -pleasure to an immense public, that joy the public always receives, -whether they know the intricate details of ballet or not, by seeing a -great classical <i>ballerina</i> at her best. One of Markova’s best -characterizations was that of Taglioni in Dolin’s <i>Pas de Quatre</i>, a -delightful cameo, yet today, or, at least, the last time I saw it, it, -like her Prelude in <i>Sylphides</i>, suffered from an accretion of manner, -until it bordered on the grotesque.</p> - -<p>One of the qualities Markova has in common with Pavlova, some of whose -qualities she has, is her agelessness. As I said of Pavlova, “genius -knows no age,” so might it be said of Diaghileff’s “little English girl” -now grown up. The great Russian painter and co-founder of the Diaghileff -Ballet, Alexandre Benois, the most noted designer of <i>Giselle</i>, once -asserted that Pavlova’s ability to transmute rather ordinary and -sometimes banal material into unalloyed gold was a theatrical miracle. -It is in roles for which she is peculiarly and individually almost -uniquely fitted that Markova, too, is able to work a theatrical miracle.</p> - -<p>Under the proper direction, under which she will not be left to her own -devices, and will not be required to make her own decisions, but will -have them made for her by a wise and intelligent director conscious of -her limitations, Markova will be able the better to fulfil her destiny. -It is to that desired end that I have been deeply interested in the fact -that she had secured an invitation from the Sadle<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_204">{204}</a></span>r’s Wells Ballet, at -the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, for her to become, once again, a -member of the company, with certain freedoms of action outside the -company when her services are not required. The initial step has been -taken. It is in such a setting that she belongs.</p> - -<p>I hope she will continue in this setting.</p> - -<p>Always I have been her devoted friend from the beginning of her American -successes, and shall continue to be.</p> - -<p>It is <i>ballerinas</i> of the type of Alicia Markova who help make ballet -the great art it is. There are all too few of them.</p> - -<p>Often I have told Anton Dolin that the two of them, Markova and Dolin, -individually and collectively, have been of immeasurable service and -have done great honor to ballet both in England and throughout the -world.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ANTON DOLIN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>The erstwhile Sydney Patrick Chippendall Healey-Kay, metamorphosed into -Anton Dolin whose star has so often paralleled and traversed that of -Markova, was born at Slinfold, Sussex, 20th July, 1904. A principal -dancer of the Diaghileff Ballet at an early age, he was unique as the -only non-Russian <i>premier danseur</i> ever to achieve that position.</p> - -<p>Leaving Diaghileff in 1926, he organized the Nemtchinova-Dolin Ballet, -with which they toured England and Europe. Alternating ballet with the -dramatic and musical theatre, he turned up in New York in Lew Leslie’s -unhappy <i>International Revue</i>, along with Gertrude Lawrence, Harry -Richman, and the unforgettable Argentinita. On his return to London, -Dolin became the first guest-star of the Vic-Wells Ballet before it -exchanged the Vic for Sadler’s.</p> - -<p>In 1935, with the valued help of the late Mrs. Laura Henderson, he was -indefatigable in the formation of the Markova-Dolin Ballet, one of the -results of which was the laying of the foundation stones of ballet’s -popularity in Great Britain. A period with the de Basil company in -Australia was followed by his extended American sojourn, with Ballet -Theatre, the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, as guest artist, <i>The Seven -Lively Arts</i>, the Original Ballet Russe, and again under my management -with the Markova-Dolin company.</p> - -<p>Without making too detailed a research, I should say that the Dolin -literature is nearly as extensive as that about Markova, making due -allowance for the fact that the glamorous <i>ballerina</i> always lends<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_205">{205}</a></span> -herself to the printed page more attractively than her male <i>vis-a-vis</i>. -However, Dolin, often as busy with his pen as with his feet, has added -four volumes of his own authorship to the list. <i>Divertissement</i>, -published in 1931, and <i>Ballet-Go-Round</i>, published in 1938, were -sprightly volumes of autobiographical reminiscence and highly personal -commentary and observation. There has also been a slender volume on the -art of partnering and, more recently, a biographical study of Markova -entitled <i>Alicia Markova: Her Life and Art</i>.</p> - -<p>My acquaintance and friendship with Dolin dates back to the Diaghileff -season of 1925. It is an acquaintance and friendship I value. There is -an old bromide to the effect that dancers’ brains are in their legs. As -in all generalizations of this sort, it contains something more than a -grain of truth. Dolin is one of the shining exceptions to this role. -Shrewd, cultured, with a fine background, he is the possessor of a -poised manner, and something else, which is, I regret to say, rare in -the dancer: a concern for ethics.</p> - -<p>There is a weird opinion held in many parts of this country and on the -continent of Europe, to the effect that the Englishman is a dull and -humorless sort of fellow. This stupid charge is quite beyond the -understanding of any one who has thought twice about the matter. I have -had the pleasure and privilege of knowing England and the English for a -great many years and, as a consequence, I venture to assume the pleasing -privilege of informing a deluded world that, whatever else there may or -may not be in England, there is more fun and laughter to the square acre -than there is to the square mile of any other known quarter. My -observation has been that even if an Englishman does achieve a gravity -alien to the common spirit about him, he is not able to keep it up for -long. Dolin is the possessor of a brilliant sense of humour and much -wit, both often biting; but he has a quality which invites visitations -of the twin spirits of high and low comedy.</p> - -<p>A firm believer in the classical ballet, in Russian ballet, if you will, -Dolin, like his kinsmen in British ballet, gets about his business with, -on the whole, a minimum of fuss. Socially, and I speak from a profound -experience and a personal knowledge drawn from my own Russian roots, the -Russians are unlike any other European people, having a large measure of -the Asiatic disregard for the meaning and use of the clock, the watch, -the sun-dial, or even the primitive hourglass. Slow movement and time -without limit for reflection and conversation are vital to them, and -unless they can pass a substantial<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_206">{206}</a></span> portion of the day in discussions, -they become ill at ease and unhappy. But, although deliberate enough in -most things, they have a way of blazing out almost volcanically if -annoyed or affronted or thwarted. In this latter respect only, the -English-Irish Anton Dolin may be said to be Russian.</p> - -<p>When Dolin’s dancing days are finished, there will always be a job for -“Pat” as an actor—at times, to be sure, with a touch of ham, but always -theatrically effective. He is one of the few dancers who could ever be -at home on the speaking stage.</p> - -<p>In the early founding days of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, I was -very anxious that he join Massine as one of the leading figures of the -company. Dolin shared my desire, and was eager to become a member, but -there did not appear to be any room for him; and, moreover, with Lifar -and Massine in the company, matters were difficult in the extreme, and -plagued by the winds of complexity.</p> - -<p>Dolin’s lovely mother, to whom he is devoted, lived with him in New York -during the period of his residence here. Now that he is back in England, -at the head of his own company, the London Festival Ballet, she is with -him there. It was she, a shrewd pilot of his career, who begged me to -take “Pat” under my wing. A gracious, generous lady, I am as fond of her -as I am of “Pat.” When he was offered a leading dancing and -choreographic post at the inception of Ballet Theatre, he sought my -advice. I was instrumental in his joining the company; he helped me to -take over the management of the company later on.</p> - -<p>His “Russianness” that I have mentioned, releases itself in devastating -flares and flashes of “temperament.” These outbursts express themselves -very often in rapid-fire iteration of a single phrase: “I shan’t dance! -I shan’t dance! I shan’t dance!” Yet I always know that, when the time -comes for his appearance, “Pat” will be on hand. Neither illness nor -accident prevents him from doing his job. There was an occasion on tour, -in the far north and in the midst of an icy blizzard, when he insisted -on dancing with a fever of one hundred three degrees. He may not have -danced with perfection, but he danced.</p> - -<p>Today, and in the past as well, there are and have been some who have -not cared for his dancing. Certain sections of the press have the habit -of developing a pronouncedly captious tone in dealing with Dolin the -dancer. I would remind those persons of the perfectly amazing theatrical -sense Dolin always exhibits. I would re<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_207">{207}</a></span>mind them that, in my opinion -and in the opinion of others more finely attuned to the niceties of the -classical dance, Dolin is one of the finest supporting partners it is -possible for a <i>ballerina</i> to have. Markova is never shown to her best -advantage with any other male dancer than Anton Dolin. My opinion, on -which I make no concessions to any one, is that Dolin is one of the -finest Albrechts in the world today. Without Dolin, <i>Giselle</i> remains -but half a ballet.</p> - -<p>As a <i>re</i>-creator, he has few peers and no superiors. I can think of no -one better qualified to recreate a masterpiece of another era, with -regard to the creator’s true intent and meaning, nor do I know of any -choreographer who has a greater feeling, a finer sense, or a more humble -respect for “period and tradition.”</p> - -<p>As a dancer, there are still roles which require a minimum of dancing -and a maximum of acting. These roles are preeminently Dolin’s, and in -these he cannot be equaled.</p> - -<p>As for Anton Dolin, the person, as opposed to Anton Dolin, the artist, -he is that rare bird in ballet: a loyal friend, blessedly free from that -besetting balletic sin—envy; generous, kindly, human, always helpful, -ever the good comrade. Would that dance had more men of his character, -his liberality, his broadmindedness, his ever-present readiness to be of -service to his colleagues.</p> - -<p>Although “Pat” is not above certain meannesses, certain capriciousness, -he has an uncanny gift of penetrating to the heart of a matter, and his -ability to hit the nail on the very centre of the head often gains for -him the advantage over people who have the reputation of being experts -in their particular callings.</p> - -<p>On the very top of all is his ability to open the charm tap at will. On -occasion, I have been of a mind to choke him, so annoyed have I been at -him. We have parted in a cloud of aggravation and exacerbation. Yet, on -meeting him an hour later, there was only an Irish smile with twinkling -eyes, all radiating good will and genuine affection.</p> - -<p>This is the Anton Dolin I know, the Dolin I like best.</p> - -<p>As these lines are written, all concerned are working on a budget to -determine if it is not possible to bring Dolin and his company to -America for a visit. It is my hope that satisfactory arrangements can be -made, for it would give me great pleasure to present “Pat” at the head -of his fine organization. I can only say to Dolin that if we succeed in -completing mutually agreeable conditions: “What a job we will do for -you!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_208">{208}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a id="c_12">12.</a> Ballet Climax— Sadler’s Wells And After....</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">S</span><b>ADLER’S WELLS</b>—a name with which to conjure—had been a part of my -balletic consciousness for a long time. I had observed its early -beginnings, its growth from the Old Vic to Sadler’s Wells to the Royal -Opera House, Covent Garden, with the detached interest of a ballet lover -from another land. I had read about it, heard about it from many people, -but I had not had any first hand experience of it since the Covent -Garden Opera Trust had invited the Sadler’s Wells Ballet to move to -Covent Garden from their famous ballet center, Sadler’s Wells. This they -did, early in 1946, leaving behind yet another company called the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet.</p> - -<p>I arrived in London in April, 1946, at a time when I was very definitely -under the impression that I would give up any active participation in -ballet in any other form than as an interested member of the audience.</p> - -<p>The London to which I returned was, in a sense, a strange London—a -London just after the war, a city devastated by bombs, a city that had -suffered grave wounds both physical and spiritual, a city of austerity.</p> - -<p>It was also a London wherein I found, wherever I went, a people whose -spirits were, nevertheless, high; human beings whose<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_209">{209}</a></span> chins were up. The -typical Cockney taxi-driver who brought me from Waterloo to my long-time -headquarters, the Savoy, summed it all up on my arrival, when he said: -“We’ll come out of this orlrite. We weren’t born in the good old English -climate for nothin’. It’s all a bit of a disappointment; but we’re used -to disappointments, we are. Why when ah was a kid as we ’ad a nice -little picnic all arranged for Saturday afternoon, as sure as fate it -rained and the bleedin’ picnic was put orf again.... We’re goin’ to ’ave -our picnic one day; this ’ere picnic’s just been put orf, that’s -all....”</p> - -<p>As the porters were disposing of my luggage, the genial commissionaire -at the Savoy, Joe Hanson, added his bit to the general optimism. After -greeting me, he asked me if I had heard about the shipwreck in the -Thames, opposite the Savoy. I had not, and wondered how I had missed the -news of such a catastrophe.</p> - -<p>“Well, it was like this, guv’nor,” he said. “Churchill, Eden, Atlee and -Ernie Bevin went out on the river in a small boat to look the place -over. Just as they were a-passin’ the ’otel ’ere, a sudden squall blew -up and the boat was capsized.”</p> - -<p>He paused and blew his nose vociferously into a capacious kerchief. “Who -do you think was saved?”</p> - -<p>“Churchill?” I enquired.</p> - -<p>He shook his head in the negative.</p> - -<p>“Eden?”</p> - -<p>He shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Atlee?”</p> - -<p>Again he shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Bevin?”</p> - -<p>Once more the negative.</p> - -<p>“No one saved?” I could hardly believe my ears.</p> - -<p>“Ah, there’s where you’re wrong, sir.... <i>England</i> was saved!”</p> - -<p>The commissionaire’s big frame shook with prideful laughter.</p> - -<p>I freshened myself in my room and went down to my favorite haunt, my -London H. Q., as I like to call it, the Savoy Grill, that gathering -place of the theatrical, musical, literary, and balletic worlds of -London. One of the Savoy Grill’s chief fixtures, and for me one of its -most potent attractions, was the always intriguing buffet, with my -favorite Scottish salmon. This time the buffet, while putting up a brave -decorative front, was a little disappointing and, to tell the truth, a -shade depressing.</p> - -<p>But a glance at the entertainment advertisements in <i>The Times</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_210">{210}</a></span> (the -“Thunderer,” I noted, was now a four-page sheet) showed me that the -entertainment world was in full swing, and there was excitement in the -air.</p> - -<p>I dined alone in the Grill, then returned to my room and changed to -black tie and all, for it was to be a festive evening, and walked the -short distance between the Savoy Hotel and the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden. I was going to the ballet in a completely non-professional -capacity, as a member of the audience, going for the sheer fun of going, -with nary a balletic problem on my mind.</p> - -<p>I was to be the guest of David Webster, the Administrator of Covent -Garden, who met me at the door and, after a brief chat, escorted me to -my seat. My eyes traveled around the famous and historic Opera House, -only recently saved from the ignominy of becoming a public dance hall. -Here it was, shining and dignified in fresh paint, in damask, and in the -new warm red plush <i>fauteuils</i>; poor though Britain was, the house had -just been remodelled, redecorated, reseated, with a new and most -attractive “crush bar” installed.</p> - -<p>The depression I had felt earlier in the day vanished completely. Now -that evening had come, there was a different aspect, a changed -atmosphere. I looked at the audience that made up the sold-out house. -From the top to the bottom of the great old Opera House they were a -happy, relaxed, anticipatory people, ready to be entertained and -stimulated. In the stalls, the audience was well-dressed and some of the -evening frocks were, I felt, of marked splendor. But the less expensive -portions of the house were filled, too, and I remembered something that -great director, Ninette de Valois, who had made all this possible, had -said way back in 1937: “The gallery, the pit [American readers should -understand that the “pit” in the British theatre is usually that part of -the house behind the “stalls” or orchestra seats, and is not, as in the -States, the orchestra pit where the musicians are placed] and the -amphitheatre are the basis and backbone of the people s theatre.... That -they are the most loyal supporters will be maintained with deep -appreciation by those who control the future of the ballet.”</p> - -<p>There was, as I have said, an anticipatory atmosphere on the part of the -audience, as if the temper of the people had become graver, simpler, and -more concentrated; as if, during the war, when the opportunities for -recreation and amusement were more re<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_211">{211}</a></span>stricted, transport more limited, -the intelligence craved and sought those antidotes to a troubled -consciousness of which ballet and its allied arts are the most potent.</p> - -<p>While I relaxed and waited for the rising curtain with that same -anticipatory glow that I always feel, yet, somehow, intensified tonight, -I reflected, too, on the miracle that had been wrought. I remembered -David Webster had told me how, only the year before, the company was -preparing for a good-will tour to South America, and how the sudden end -of the war had made that trip impracticable and unnecessary. It had -become more urgent to have the company at home. Negotiations had been -initiated between the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, the British Arts Council, -and Boosey and Hawkes, who had taken over the Covent Garden lease, for -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet to make its headquarters at Covent Garden, -where it would be presented by the Covent Carden Opera Trust. Having -been turned into a cheap dance hall before the war, Covent Garden’s -restoration as a theatre devoted to the finest in opera and ballet -required very careful planning.</p> - -<p>All of this whetted my appetite. My eyes traveled to the Royal Box, to -the Royal Crest on the great curtains, to the be-wigged footmen.... -Slowly the lights came down to a dull glow, went out. A sound of -applause greeted the entry into the orchestra pit of the conductor, the -greatly talented musical director of the Sadler’s Wells organization, -Constant Lambert. In a moment, the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, was -filled with the magnificent sound of the overture to Tchaikowsky’s <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, played as only Lambert could play it.</p> - -<p>Then the curtain rose, revealing Oliver Messel’s perfectly wonderful -setting for the first act of this magnificent full-length ballet. Over -all, about all, was the great music of Tchaikowsky. My eyes, my ears, my -heart were being filled to overflowing.</p> - -<p>The biggest moment of all came with the entrance of Margot Fonteyn as -the Princess. I was overwhelmed by her entire performance; but I think -it was her first entrance that made the greatest impact on me, with the -fresh youthfulness of the young Princess, the radiant gaiety of all the -fairy tale heroines of the world’s literature compressed into one.</p> - -<p>I was so enchanted as I followed the stage and the music that I forgot -all else but the miraculous unfolding of this Perrault-Tchaikowsky fairy -story.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_212">{212}</a></span></p> - -<p>Here, at last, was great ballet. The art of pantomime, so long dormant -in ballet in America, had been restored in all its clarity and -simplicity of meaning. The high quality of the dancing by the -principals, soloists, and <i>corps de ballet</i>, the settings, the costumes, -the lighting, all literally transported me to another world. I knew -then, in a great revelation, that great ballet was here to stay.</p> - -<p>“This is Ballet!” I said, almost half aloud.</p> - -<p>After the performance, back at the Savoy Grill once more, at supper I -met, once again, Ninette de Valois, whose taste and drive and -determination and abilities have made Sadler’s Wells the magnificent -institution it is.</p> - -<p>“Madame,” I said to her, “I think you’re ready to go to the States.”</p> - -<p>“Are we?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I replied, “you are ready.”</p> - -<p>The supper was gay and charming and animated. I was filled with -enthusiasm and was a long time falling asleep that night.</p> - -<p>After that evening, there was no longer any attitude of “to hell with -ballet” on my part. Ballet, I realized, with a fresh conviction -solidifying the revelation I had had the night before, was here to stay. -“To hell with ballet” had given way to “three cheers for ballet!”</p> - -<p>After breakfast, the next morning, I telephoned David Webster to invite -him to luncheon so that I might discuss details of the proposed American -venture with him. During the course of the luncheon we went into all the -major points and problems. Webster, I found, shared my enthusiasm for -the idea and agreed in principle.</p> - -<p>But, in accordance with the traditionally British manner, the thought -and care and consideration that is given to every phase and every -department, every suggestion, every idea, such matters do not move as -swiftly as they do in the States. Before I started out for my usual -London “constitutional” backwards and forwards across Waterloo Bridge, -from where one looks up the Thames towards the Houses of Parliament and -Big Ben, mother of all our freedoms, I sent flowers to Margot Fonteyn -with a note of appreciation for her magnificent performance of the night -before and for the great pleasure she had given me.</p> - -<p>There followed extended discussions with Ninette de Valois, the Director -of whom, perhaps, the outstanding characteristic is that her outlook is -such that her greatest ambition is to see the Sadler’s Wells Ballet -become such an institution in its own right that, as she puts it,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_213">{213}</a></span> “no -one will know the name of the director.” However, before any decisions -could be reached, it became necessary for me to get home. So, with the -whole business still very much up in the air, I returned to New York.</p> - -<p>No sooner was I back in my office than there came an invitation from -Mayor William O’Dwyer and Grover Whalen for me to take over the -direction of the dance activities for the Festival for the One Hundred -Fiftieth Anniversary Celebration of the City of New York. I accepted the -honor in the hope that I might be able to organize a completely -international and representative Dance Festival, wherein the leading -exponents of ballet and other forms of dance would have an opportunity -to demonstrate their varied repertoires and techniques. To that end, I -sent invitations in the name of the City of New York to all the leading -dance organizations in the world, seeking their participation in the -Festival. The response was unanimously immediate and enthusiastic; but, -unfortunately, many of the organizations, possessing interesting -repertoires and styles, were not in a position to undertake the costs of -travel from far distant points, together with the heavy expenses for the -transportation of scenery, equipment, and costumes. Among these was the -newly-organized San Francisco Civic Ballet.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells organization accepted the invitation in principle, as -did the Paris Opera Ballet, through its director, Monsieur Georges -Hirsch. Ram Gopal, brilliant exponent of the dance of India, accepted -through his manager Julian Braunsweg; and, in this case, I was able to -assist him in his financial problems, by bringing him at my own expense. -Representing our native American dance were Doris Humphrey and Charles -Weidman, together with their company. I happen to feel this group is one -of the most representative of all our native practitioners of the “free” -dance, in works that often come to grips with the problems and conflicts -of life, and which eschew, at least for the time, pure abstraction. Most -notable of these works, works in this form, is their trilogy: <i>New -Dance</i>—<i>Theatre Piece</i>—<i>With My Red Fires</i> American dance groups were -invited but for one reason or another were not able to accept.</p> - -<p>As preparations for the Festival moved ahead, David Webster arrived from -London to investigate the physical possibilities for the participation -of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet as the national ballet of Great Britain.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_214">{214}</a></span></p> - -<p>The logical place for a Dance Festival of such proportions and such -significance, and one of such avowedly international and civic nature, -would have been the Metropolitan Opera House. Unfortunately, the -Metropolitan had commitments with another ballet company. My friend and -colleague, Edward Johnson, the then General Manager of the Metropolitan -Opera Company, regretted the situation and did everything in his power -to remedy the position and free our first lyric theatre for such an -important civic event. However, the other dance organization insisted on -its contractual rights and refused to give way, or to divide the time in -any way.</p> - -<p>The only other place left, therefore, was the New York City Center, in -West Fifty-fifth Street. Webster made a thorough inspection of this -former Masonic Temple from front to back, but found the place entirely -inadequate, with a stage and an orchestra pit infinitely too small, and -the theatre itself quite unsatisfactory for a company the size of the -Covent Garden organization and productions. As a matter of fact, it -would be hard to find a less satisfactory theatre for ballet production.</p> - -<p>As Webster and I went over the premises together, I sensed his feeling -about the building, which I shared. Nevertheless, I tried to hide my -disappointment when, at last, he turned to me and said: “It’s no go. We -can’t play here. Let us postpone the visit till we can come to be seen -on your only appropriate stage, the Metropolitan.”</p> - -<p>We had had preliminary meetings with the British Consul General and his -staff; plans and promotion were rapidly crystallizing, and my -disappointment was none the less keen simply because I knew the reasons -for the postponement were sound, and that it could not be otherwise.</p> - -<p>The Dance Festival itself, without Sadler’s Wells, had its successes and -left a mark on the local dance scene. The City Center was no more -satisfactory, I am afraid, for the Ballet of the Opera of Paris, -presented by the French National Lyric Theatre, under the auspices of -the Cultural Relations Department of the French Foreign Ministry, than -it would have been for the Covent Garden company. It was necessary to -trim the scenery, omit much of it, and use only part of the personnel of -the company at a time. But, on the other hand, it was a genuine pleasure -to welcome them on their first visit to the United States and Canada. In -addition to the Dance Festival Season in New York, we played highly -successful engagements in Montreal, Toronto, and Chicago.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_215">{215}</a></span></p> - -<p>The company was headed by a distinguished French <i>ballerina</i> in the true -French style, Yvette Chauviré. Other principal members of the company, -all from the higher echelons of the Paris Opera, included Roger Ritz, -Christiane Vaussard, Michel Renault, Alexandre Kalioujny, Micheline -Bardin, and Max Bozzini, with Robert Blot and Richard Blareau as -conductors. The repertoire included <i>Ports of Call</i>, Serge Lifar’s -ballet to Jacques Ibert’s <i>Escales</i>; <i>Salad</i>, a Lifar work to a Darius -Milhaud creation; Lifar’s setting of Ravel’s <i>Pavane</i>; <i>The Wise -Animals</i>, based on the Jean de la Fontaine fables, by Lifar, to music by -Francis Poulenc; <i>Suite in White</i>, from Eduardo Lalo’s <i>Naouma</i>; <i>Punch -and the Policeman</i>, staged by Lifar to a score by Jolivet; -<i>Divertissement</i>, cuttings from Tchaikowsky’s <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>; -<i>The Peri</i>, Lifar’s staging of the well-known ballet score by Paul -Dukas; <i>The Crystal Palace</i>, Balanchine’s ballet to Bizet’s symphony, -known here as <i>Symphony in C</i>; Vincent d’Indy’s <i>Istar</i>, in the Lifar -choreography; <i>Gala Evening</i>, taken from Delibes’ <i>La Source</i>, by Leo -Staats; Albert Aveline’s <i>Elvira</i>, to Scarlatti melodies orchestrated by -Roland Manuel; André Messager’s <i>The Two Pigeons</i>, choreographed by -Albert Aveline; the Rameau <i>Castor and Pollux</i>, staged by Nicola Guerra; -<i>The Knight and the Maiden</i>, a two-act romantic ballet, staged by Lifar -to a score by Philippe Gaubert; and <i>Les Mirages</i>, a classical work by -Lifar, to music by Henri Sauguet.</p> - -<p>Serge Lifar returned to America, not to dance, but as the choreographer -of the company of which he is the head.</p> - -<p>I happen to know certain facts about Lifar’s behavior during the -Occupation of France, facts I did not know at the time of the -publication of my earlier book, <i>Impresario</i>. Certain statements I made -in that book concerning Serge Lifar were made on the basis of such -information as I had at the time, which I believed was reliable. I have -subsequently learned that it was not correct, and I have also -subsequently had additional, quite different, and reliably documented -information which makes me wish to acknowledge that an error of judgment -was expressed on the basis of inconclusive evidence. Lifar may not have -been a hero; very possibly, and quite probably, he may have been -indiscreet; but it is now obvious to any fair-minded person that there -has been a good deal of malicious gossip spread about him.</p> - -<p>Lifar was restored to his post at the head of the Paris Opera Ballet by -M. Georges Hirsch, Administrator, Director of the French National Lyric -Theatres, himself a war-hero with a distinguished rec<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_216">{216}</a></span>ord. The dancers -of the Paris Opera Ballet threatened to strike unless Lifar was so -restored; the stage-hands, with definite indications of Communist -inspiration, to strike if he was. Hirsch had the courage of his -convictions. I have found that Lifar did not take the Paris Opera Ballet -to Berlin during the Occupation, as has been alleged in this country, -although the Germans wanted it badly; and I happen to know numerous -other French companies did go. I also have learned that it was Serge -Lifar who prevented the Paris Opera Ballet from going. I happen to know -that Lifar did fly in a German plane to Kieff, his birthplace; as I -happen to know that he did not show Hitler through the Paris Opera -itself, as one widely-spread rumor has had it. As a matter of fact, -stories to the effect that he did both these things have been widely -circulated. I happen to have learned that Lifar made a tremendous effort -to save that splendid gentleman, René Blum, but was unable to prevail -against Blum’s patriotic but unfortunately stupid determination to -remain in Paris. I also happen to know that Lifar was personally active -in saving many Jews and also other liberals from deportation. Moreover, -I know that, as has always been characteristic of Lifar, because he was -one who had, he helped from his own pocket those who had not.</p> - -<p>The performances of the Ballet of the Paris Opera at the City Center -were not the slightest proof of the quality of its productions or its -performance. The shocking limitations of the playhouse made necessary a -vast reduction of its personnel, its scenery, its essential quality. The -Paris Opera Ballet is, of course, a State Ballet in the fullest sense of -the term. It is an aristocratic organization, conscious of the great -tradition that hangs over it. The air is thick with it. Its dancers are -civil servants of the Republic of France and their promotion in rank -follows upon a strict examination pattern. It would be interesting one -day to see the company at the Metropolitan Opera House, where its -original setting could be approximated, although I fear the Metropolitan -has nothing comparable with the <i>foyer de la dance</i> of the Paris Opera.</p> - -<p>Here is ballet on a big scale and in the grand manner, with all the -scenic and costume panoply of the art at its most grandiose. It is the -sort of fine ballet that succeeds in giving the art an immense -popularity with the masses.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, I am negotiating with the very able Maurice -Lehmann, the successor to Georges Hirsch as Director-General of the -Opera, and I can think of no happier result than to be<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_217">{217}</a></span> able to bring -this rich example of the balletic art of France to America under the -proper circumstances and conditions, if for no other reason than to -compensate the organization for their previous visit.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>The International Dance Festival over, my chief desire was to bring -Sadler’s Wells to this continent.</p> - -<p>Perhaps it would be as well, for the sake of the reader who may be -unfamiliar with its background and thus disposed to regard this as -merely another ballet company, to shed a bit of light on the Sadler’s -Wells organization.</p> - -<p>Following the death of Diaghileff, in 1929, we knew that ballet in -Britain was in a sad state of decline, from which it might well never -have emerged had it not been for two groups, the Ballet Club of Marie -Rambert and the Camargo Society. Each was to be of vital importance to -the ballet picture in Britain and, indirectly, in the world. The -offspring of the Ballet Club was the Rambert Ballet; that of the Camargo -Society, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet. As a matter of fact, the Camargo -Society, a Sunday night producing club, utilized the Ballet Club dancers -and another studio group headed by the lady now known as Dame Ninette de -Valois, D.B.E., D. Litt.</p> - -<p>Back in 1931, at the time of the formation of the Camargo Society, the -little acorn from which grew a mighty British oak, Dame Ninette, -“Madame” as she is known to all who know her, was plain Ninette de -Valois, who was born Edris Stannus, in Ireland, in 1898. She had joined -the Diaghileff Ballet as a dancer in 1923, had risen to the rank of -soloist (a rare accomplishment for a non-Russian), and left the great -man, daring to differ with him on the direction he was taking, something -amounting to <i>lese majesté</i>. She had produced plays, in the meantime, at -Dublin’s famous Abbey Theatre and at Cambridge University’s Festival -Theatre; and had also formed a choreographic group of her own which she -brought along to the Camargo Society to cooperate. When she did so, she -was far from famous. As a matter of fact, she was, to all intents and -purposes, unknown.</p> - -<p>One Sunday night in 1931, two things happened to Ninette de Valois: she -became famous overnight, which, knowing her as I do, was of much less -importance to her than the fact that, quite unwittingly, she laid the -foundation for a British National Ballet under her own direction.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_218">{218}</a></span></p> - -<p>The work she produced for the Camargo Society on this Sunday night in -1931 did it. It was not a ballet in the strictest or accepted sense of -the word. Its composer called it <i>A Masque for Dancing</i>. The work was -<i>Job</i>, a danced and mimed interpretation of the Biblical story, in the -spirit of the painter and poet Blake, to one of Ralph Vaughan Williams’s -noblest scores.</p> - -<p>From Biblical inspiration she turned to the primitive, in a production -of Darius Milhaud’s <i>Creation du Monde</i>, a noble subject dealing with -the primitive gods of Easter Island, set to the 1923 jazz of the French -composer.</p> - -<p>Coincidental with the Camargo Society activities, Ninette de Valois was -making arrangements with another great Englishwoman, Lilian Baylis, who -had brought opera and drama to the masses at two theatres in the less -fashionable parts of London, the Old Vic, in the Waterloo Road, and -Sadler’s Wells, in Islington’s Rosebery Avenue. Lilian Baylis wanted a -ballet company. Armed with only her own determination and -high-mindedness, she had established a real theatre for the masses.</p> - -<p>Ninette de Valois, for a penny, started in with her group to do the -opera ballets at the Old Vic: those interludes in <i>Carmen</i> and <i>Faust</i> -and <i>Samson and Delilah</i> that exist primarily to keep the dull -businessman in his seat with his wife instead of at the bar. However, -Lilian Baylis gave Ninette de Valois a ballet school, and it was in the -theatre, where a ballet school belonged, a part of and an adjunct to the -theatre. The Vic-Wells Ballet, soon to become the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, -was the result.</p> - -<p>It was not nearly as easy and as simple as it sounds as I write it. It -is beyond me fully to convey to the reader those qualities of tenacity -of purpose, of driving energy, of fearless courage that this remarkable -woman was forced to draw upon in the early years. There was no money; -and before a single penny could be separated from her, it had to be -melted from the glue with which she stuck every penny to the inside of -her purse.</p> - -<p>Alicia Markova joined the company. Anton Dolin was a frequent guest -artist. It was, in a sense, a Markova company, with the three most -popular works: <i>Swan Lake</i>, <i>The Nutcracker</i>, and <i>Giselle</i>.</p> - -<p>But, most importantly, Ninette de Valois had that vital requisite -without which, no matter how solvent the financial backing, no ballet -company is worth the price of its toe-shoes, viz., a policy. Ninette de -Valois’ policy for repertoire is codified into a simple formula:<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_219">{219}</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>1) Traditional-classical and romantic works.</p> - -<p>2) Modern works of future classic importance.</p> - -<p>3) Current work of more topical interest.</p> - -<p>4) Works encouraging a strictly national tendency in their creation -generally.</p> - -<p>The first constitutes the foundation-stone, technical standard, and -historical knowledge that is demanded as a “means test” by which -the abilities of the young dancers are both developed and inspired.</p> - -<p>The second, those works which both musically and otherwise have a -future that may be regarded as the major works of this generation.</p> - -<p>The third, the topical and sometimes experimental, of merely -ephemeral interest and value, yet important as a means of balancing -an otherwise ambitious programme.</p> - -<p>The fourth is important to the national significance of the ballet. -Such works constitute the nation’s own contribution to the theatre, -and are in need perhaps of the most careful guidance of the groups.</p></div> - -<p>It was the classics which had, from the beginning, the place of -priority: <i>Swan Lake (Act II)</i>, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Carnaval</i>, <i>Coppélia</i>, -<i>The Nutcracker</i>, <i>Giselle</i>, and the full-length <i>Swan Lake</i>.</p> - -<p>In 1935, Markova left Sadler’s Wells to form her own company with Dolin. -With Markova’s departure, the whole character of the Sadler’s Wells -company changed. The Company became the Star. The company got along -without a <i>ballerina</i> and concentrated on its own personality, on -developing dancers from its school, and on its direction. Creation and -development continued.</p> - -<p>However, during this time, there was emerging not precisely a “star,” -but a great <i>ballerina</i>. <i>Ballerina</i> is a term greatly misused in the -United States, where any little dancer is much too often referred to -both in the press and in general conversation in this way. <i>Ballerina</i> -is a title, not a term. The title is one earned only through long, hard -experience. It is attained <i>only</i> in the highly skilled interpretation -of the great standard classical parts. Russia, France, Italy, Denmark, -countries where there are state ballets, know these things. We in the -United States, I fear, do not understand. A “star” is not one merely by -virtue of billing. A <i>ballerina</i> is, of course, a “star,” even in a -company that has no “stars” in its billing and advertising. A true -<i>ballerina</i> is a rare bird indeed. In an entire generation, it should be -remembered, the Russian Imperial Ballet produced only enough for the -fingers of two hands.</p> - -<p>The great <i>ballerina</i> I have mentioned as having come up through the -Sadler’s Wells Company, as the product of that company, is more than a -<i>ballerina</i>. She is a <i>prima ballerina assoluta</i>, a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_220">{220}</a></span> product of Sadler’s -Wells training, of the Sadler’s Wells system, a member of that all-round -team that is Sadler’s Wells. Her name is Margot Fonteyn. I shall have -something to say about her later on.</p> - -<p>I have pointed out that the backbone of the Sadler’s Wells repertoire is -the classics. Therein, in my opinion, lies one of the chief reasons for -its great success. There is a second reason, I believe. That is that, -along with Ninette de Valois’ sound production policy, keeping step with -it, sometimes leading it, is an equally sound musical policy. Sitting in -with de Valois and Frederick Ashton, as the third of the directorial -triumvirate, was the brilliant musician, critic, and wit, Constant -Lambert, who exerted a powerful influence in the building of the -repertoire, and who, with the sympathetic cooperation of his two -colleagues, made the musical standards of Sadler’s Wells the highest of -any ballet company in my knowledge and experience.</p> - -<p>The company grew and prospered. The war merely served to intensify its -efforts—and its accomplishments. Its war record is a brilliant, albeit -a difficult one; a record of unremitting hard work and dogged -perseverance against terrible odds. The company performed unceasingly -throughout the course of the war, with bombs falling. Once the dancing -was stopped, while the dancers fought a fire ignited by an incendiary -bomb and thus saved the theatre. The company was on a good-will tour of -Holland, under the auspices of the British Council, in the spring of -1940. They were at Arnheim when Hitler invaded. Packed into buses, they -raced ahead of the Panzers, reached the last boat to leave, left minus -everything, but everything: productions, scenery, costumes, properties, -musical material, and every scrap of personal clothing.</p> - -<p>Once back in Britain, there was no cessation. The lost productions and -costumes were replaced; the musical material renewed, some of it, since -it was manuscript, by reorchestrating it from gramophone recordings. As -the Battle of Britain was being fought, the company toured the entire -country, with two pianos in lieu of orchestra, with Constant Lambert -playing the first piano. They played in halls, in theatres, in camps, in -factories; brought ballet to soldiers and sailors, to airmen, and to -factory workers, often by candlelight. They managed to create new works. -Back to London, to a West End theatre, with orchestra, and then, because -of the crowds, to a larger West End playhouse.</p> - -<p>It was at the end of the war, as I have mentioned earlier, that the -music publishing house of Boosey and Hawkes, with a splendid<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_221">{221}</a></span> -generosity, saved the historic Royal Opera House, at Covent Garden, from -being turned into a popular dance hall. A common error on the part of -Americans is to believe that because it was called the Royal Opera -House, it was a State-supported theatre, as, for example, are the Royal -Opera House of Denmark, at Copenhagen, and the Paris Opéra. Among those -Maecenases who had made opera possible in the old days in London was Sir -Thomas Beecham, who made great personal sacrifices to keep it open.</p> - -<p>When Boosey and Hawkes took over Covent Garden, it was on a term lease. -On taking possession they immediately turned over the historic edifice -to a committee known as the Covent Garden Opera Trust, of which the -chairman was Lord Keynes, the distinguished economist and art patron -who, as plain Mr. John Maynard Keynes, had been instrumental in the -formation of the Camargo Society, and who had married the one-time -Diaghileff <i>ballerina</i>, Lydia Lopokova; this committee had acted as -god-parents to the Sadler’s Wells company in its infancy. The Arts -Council supported the venture, and David Webster was appointed -Administrator.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>A word or two about the Arts Council and its support of the arts in -Britain is necessary for two reasons: one, because it is germane to the -story of Sadler’s Wells, and, two, germane to some things I wish to -point out in connection with subsidy of the arts in these troubled -times, since I believe a parallel can be drawn with our own hit-and-miss -financing.</p> - -<p>Under the British system, there is no attempt to interfere with -aesthetics. The late Sir Stafford Cripps pointed out that the Government -should interfere as little as possible in the free development of art. -The British Government’s attitude has, perhaps, been best stated by -Clement Atlee, as Prime Minister, when he said: “I think that we are all -of one mind in desiring that art should be free.” He added that he -thought the essential purpose of an organized society was to set free -the creative energies of the individual, while safeguarding the -well-being of all. The Government, he continued, must try to provide -conditions in which art might flourish.</p> - -<p>There is no “Ministry of Fine Arts” as in most continental and South -American countries. The Government’s interest in making art better known -and more within the reach of all is expressed through three bodies: the -Arts Council, the British Film Institute, and the British Council.</p> - -<p>The Arts Council was originally known by the rather unwieldy<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_222">{222}</a></span> handle of -C. E. M. A. (The Council for the Encouragement of Music and the Arts), -originally founded by a gift from an American and Lord De La Warr, then -President of the Board of Education. In 1945, the Government decided to -continue the work, changed the name from C. E. M. A. to the Arts Council -of Great Britain, gave it Parliamentary financial support, and granted -it, on 9 August, 1946, a Royal Charter to develop “a greater knowledge, -understanding and practice of fine arts exclusively, and in particular -to increase the availability of the fine arts to the public ... to -improve the standard of the execution of the fine arts and to advise and -cooperate with ... Government departments, local authorities and other -bodies on matters concerned directly or indirectly with those objects.”</p> - -<p>Now, the Arts Council, while sponsored by the Government, is not a -Government department. Its chairman and governors (called members of the -Council) are appointed by the Chancellor of the Exchequer after -consultation with the Minister of Education and the Secretary of State -for Scotland. The Chancellor answers for the Council in the House of -Commons. While the Council is supported by a Government grant, its -employees are in no sense civil servants, and the Council enjoys an -independence that would not be possible were it a Government department.</p> - -<p>The first chairman of the Arts Council, and also a former chairman of C. -E. M. A., was Lord Keynes. His influence on the policy and direction of -the organization was invaluable. There are advisory boards, known as -panels, appointed for three years, experts chosen by the Council because -of their standing in and knowledge of their fields. Among many others, -the following well-known artists have served, without payment: Sir -Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Noel Coward, Peggy Ashcroft, J. B. -Priestley, Dame Myra Hess, Benjamin Britten, Tyrone Guthrie, Dame -Ninette de Valois, and Henry Moore.</p> - -<p>While statistics can be dull, a couple are necessary to the picture to -show how the Arts Council operates. For example, the Arts Council’s -annual grant from the British Treasury has risen each year: in -1945-1946, the sum was £235,000 ($658,000); in 1950-1951, £675,000 -($1,890,000).</p> - -<p>Treasury control is maintained through a Treasury Assessor to the Arts -Council; on his advice, the Chancellor of the Exchequer recommends to -Parliament a sum to be granted. The Assessor is in a position to judge -whether the money is being properly distributed, but he does not -interfere with the complete autonomy of the Council.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_223">{223}</a></span></p> - -<p>The Council, in its turn, supports the arts of the country by giving -financial assistance or guarantees to organizations, companies, and -societies; by directly providing concerts and exhibitions; or by -directly managing and operating a company or theatre. The recipient -organizations, for their part, must be non-profit or charitable trusts -capable of helping carry out the Council’s purpose of bringing to the -British people entertainment of a high standard. Such organizations must -have been accepted as non-profit companies by H. M. Commissioners of -Customs and Excise, and exempted by them from liability to pay -Entertainments Duty.</p> - -<p>An example of the help tendered may be gathered from the fact that in -1950, eight festivals, ten symphony orchestras, five theatres, -twenty-five theatre companies, seven opera and ballet companies, one -society for poetry and music, two art societies, four arts centers, and -sixty-three clubs were being helped. In addition, two theatres, three -theatre companies, and one arts center were entirely and exclusively -managed by the Arts Council. Some of the best-known British orchestras, -theatres, and companies devoted to opera, ballet, and the drama are -linked to the Arts Council: The Hallé Orchestra, the London Philharmonic -Orchestra, the London Symphony Orchestra, Covent Garden Opera Trust, -Covent Garden Opera Company, and the Sadler’s Wells Companies are among -them. Also the Old Vic, Tennent Productions, Ltd., and the Young Vic -Theatre companies.</p> - -<p>Government assistance to opera in twentieth century Britain did not -begin with the Arts Council. In the early ’thirties Parliament granted a -small subsidy to the Covent Garden Opera Syndicate for some two years to -help present grand opera in Covent Garden and the provinces at popular -prices. A total of £40,000 ($112,000) had been paid when the grant was -withdrawn after the financial crisis of 1931, and it was more than ten -years before national opera became a reality.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, some ballet companies and an opera company began to -receive C. E. M. A. support. The Sadler’s Wells Opera Company and -Sadler’s Wells Ballet Company, for instance, began their association -with C. E. M. A. in 1943. C. E. M. A. was also interested in plans -stirring in 1944 and 1945 to reclaim the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden, as a national center for ballet and opera. I have pointed out -how this great theatre in London, with a history dating back to the -eighteenth century, was leased in 1944 by the interna<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_224">{224}</a></span>tional music firm -of Boosey and Hawkes, who, in turn, rented it to the newly formed Covent -Garden Opera Trust. The Trust, an autonomous body whose original -chairman was Lord Keynes, is a non-profit body which devotes any profits -it may make to Trust projects. Late in 1949, H. M. Ministry of Works -succeeded Boosey and Hawkes as lessees, with a forty-two-year lease.</p> - -<p>The Arts Council, in taking over from C. E. M. A., inherited C. E. M. -A.’s interest in using Covent Garden for national ballet and opera. The -Council granted Covent Garden £25,000 ($70,000) for the year ended 31 -March, 1946, and £55,000 ($154,000) for the following year. At the same -time, it was granting Sadler’s Wells Foundation £10,000 ($28,000) and -£15,000 ($42,000) in those years.</p> - -<p>The Covent Garden Opera Trust, in the meantime, had invited the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet to move to Covent Garden from their famous ballet center, -Sadler’s Wells. This it did, early in 1946, leaving behind another -company called the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. Ninette de Valois -continued to direct both groups.</p> - -<p>It was a year later the Covent Garden Opera Company gave its first -presentation under the Covent Garden Opera Trust, and the two chief -Covent Carden companies, opera and ballet, were solidly settled in their -new home.</p> - -<p>The Trust continues to receive a grant from the Arts Council (£145,000 -[$406,000] in 1949-1950), and it pays the rent for the Opera House and -the salaries and expenses of the companies. So far as the ballet company -is concerned, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet pretty well pays its own way, -except for that all-besetting expense in ballet, the cost of new -productions. The opera company requires relatively more support from the -Trust grant, as it has re-staged and produced every opera afresh, not -using any old productions. Moreover, the attendance for ballet is -greater than that for opera.</p> - -<p>The aim of Covent Garden and its Administrator, David Webster, is to -create a steady audience, and to appeal to groups that have not hitherto -attended ballet and opera, or have attended only when the most brilliant -stars were appearing. Seats sell for as little as 2s 6d (35¢), rising to -26s 3d ($3.67) and the ballet-and-opera-going habit has grown noticeably -in recent years. It is interesting to note the audience for opera -averaged eighty-three per cent capacity, and for the ballet ninety-two -per cent.</p> - -<p>The two British companies alternately presenting ballet and opera -provide most of the entertainment at Covent Garden, but<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_225">{225}</a></span> foreign -companies such as the Vienna State Opera with the Vienna Philharmonic -Orchestra, La Scala Opera, the Paris Opéra Comique, the Ballet Theatre -from New York, the New York City Ballet Company, the Grand Ballet of the -Marquis de Cuevas, and Colonel de Basil’s Original Ballets Russes have -had short seasons there.</p> - -<p>The Arts Council is in association with the two permanent companies -coincidentally operating at Sadler’s Wells—the Sadler’s Wells Theatre -Ballet and the Sadler’s Wells Opera Company. Other opera and ballet -companies associated with the Arts Council are the English Opera Group, -Ltd., and the Ballet Rambert, while the Arts Council manages the St. -James Ballet Company.</p> - -<p>All these companies tour in Britain, and some of them make extended -tours abroad. The Ballet Rambert, for instance, has made a tour of -Australia and New Zealand, which lasted a year and a half, a record for -that area.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells Ballet has made long and highly successful tours of -the European continent. Its first visit to America occurred in the -autumn of 1949, when the Covent Garden Opera Trust, in association with -the Arts Council and the British Council, presented the group at the -Metropolitan Opera House in New York City, and in various other centres -in the United States and Canada, under my management. A second and much -longer visit took place in 1950-1951, with which visits this chapter is -primarily concerned.</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells has a ballet school of something more than two hundred -students, including the general education of boys and girls from ten to -sixteen. Scholarships are increasing in number; some of these are -offered by various County Councils and other local authorities, and a -number by the Royal Academy of Dancing.</p> - -<p>In addition to the Arts Council, I have mentioned the British Council, -and no account of Britain’s cultural activities could make any -pretensions to being intelligible without something more than a mention -of it. It should be pointed out that the major part of the British -Council’s work is done abroad.</p> - -<p>Established in 1934, the British Council is Britain’s chief agent for -strengthening cultural relations with the rest of the British -Commonwealth, Europe, the Middle East, the Far East, the United States, -and Latin America. It is responsible for helping to make British -cultural achievements known and understood abroad, and for bringing to -the British, in turn, a closer knowledge of foreign countries.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_226">{226}</a></span></p> - -<p>Like many other British cultural bodies, the British Council derives its -main financial support from the Government (through grants from the -Foreign Office, plus certain sums on the Colonial and Commonwealth -votes), and is a body corporate, not a Government organization. Its -staff are not civil servants and its work is entirely divorced from -politics, though the Council has a certain amount of State control -because nine of the Executive Committee (fifteen to thirty in number) -are nominated by Government departments.</p> - -<p>The British Council’s chief activities concern educational exchanges -with foreign countries of students, teachers, and technicians, including -arranging facilities for these visitors in Britain; they include -supporting libraries and information services abroad where British books -and other reading materials are readily available, and further include -the financing of tours of British lecturers and exhibitions, and of -theatrical, musical, and ballet troupes abroad. Sadler’s Wells Ballet -has toured to Brussels, Prague, Warsaw, Poznau, Malmö, Oslo, Lisbon, -Berlin, and the United States and Canada under British Council auspices -with great success. The Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet has toured the -United States and Canada, under my management, with equal success, and -is soon to visit Africa, including Kenya Colony. The Old Vic Company, -the Boyd Neel String Orchestra, and the Ballet Rambert toured Australia -and New Zealand, and the Old Vic has toured Canada. John Gielgud’s -theatre company has visited Canada. In addition, the British Council has -sponsored visits abroad of such distinguished musicians as Sir Adrian -Boult, Sir John Barbirolli, Sir Malcolm Sargent, and Maggie Teyte.</p> - -<p>One of the British Council’s important trusts is the responsibility for -the special gramophone recordings of distinguished musical works and of -the spoken word. This promotion is adding notably to record libraries, -and is helping to make the best music available to listeners all over -the world. It is also the Government’s principal agent for carrying out -the cultural conventions agreed upon with other members of the United -Nations. These provide, in general, for encouraging mutual knowledge and -appreciation of each other’s culture through interchanging teachers, -offering student scholarships, and exchanging books, films, lectures, -concerts, plays, exhibitions, and musical scores.</p> - -<p>The relationship between the British Council and the Arts Council is -necessarily one of careful collaboration. In the time of C. E. M. A. -many tasks were accomplished in common, such as look<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_227">{227}</a></span>ing after foreign -residents in Great Britain. Now the division of labor of the two -Councils is well defined, with clear-cut agreement on their respective -responsibilities for the various entertainment groups that come to or go -from Britain. The British Council helps British artists and works of art -to go ahead; the Arts Council assists artistic activities in Britain, -including any that may come from abroad. Both bodies have a number of -committee members in common, and the feeling between the groups is close -and friendly.</p> - -<p>It is, I feel, characteristic of the British that, without a definite, -planned, long-term programme for expanding its patronage of the arts, -the British Government has nevertheless come to give financial aid to -almost every branch of the art world. This has developed over a period -of years, with accumulated speed in the last twelve because of the war, -because the days of wide patronage from large private incomes are -disappearing if not altogether disappeared, and also perhaps because of -an increasing general realization of the people’s greater need for -leisure-time occupation.</p> - -<p>In all of this I must point out quite emphatically that it is the -British Government’s policy to encourage and support existing and -valuable institutions. Thus the great symphony orchestras, Sadler’s -Wells Ballet, Covent Garden Opera, and various theatre companies are not -run by the Government, but given grants by the Arts Council, a -corporation supported by Government money.</p> - -<p>What is more, there is no one central body in Britain in charge of the -fine arts, but a number of organizations, with the Arts Council covering -the widest territory. Government patronage of the arts in Britain, as -has frequently been true of other British institutions, has grown with -the needs of the times, and the organization of the operating bodies has -been flexible and adaptable.</p> - -<p>The bodies that receive Government money, such as the Arts Council, the -British Broadcasting Corporation, and the British Council are relatively -independent of the Government, their employees not being civil servants -and their day-to-day business being conducted autonomously.</p> - -<p>There is no attempt on the part of the Government to interfere with the -presentations of the companies receiving State aid, though often the -Government encourages experimentation. A very happy combination of arts -sponsorship is now permissible under a comparatively recent Act of -Parliament that allows local government authorities to assist theatrical -and musical groups fully. Now, for instance,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_228">{228}</a></span> an orchestra based -anywhere in Britain may have the financial backing of the town -authorities, as well as of the Arts Council and private patrons.</p> - -<p>While accurate predictions about the future course of relations between -Government and the arts in Britain are not, of course, possible, it -seems likely, however, that all of mankind will be found with more, -rather than less, leisure in the years to come. In the days of the -industrial revolution in Britain a hundred-odd years ago, the people, by -which I mean the working classes, had little opportunity for cultivating -a taste for the arts.</p> - -<p>Now, with the average number of hours worked by British men, thanks to -trade unionism and a more genuinely progressive and humanitarian point -of view, standing at something under forty-seven weekly, there is -obviously less time devoted to earning a living, leaving more for -learning the art of living. It may well be that the next hundred years -will see even more intensive efforts made to help people to use their -leisure hours pleasantly and profitably. As long ago as the early -1930’s, at a time when he was so instrumental in encouraging ballet -through the founding of the Camargo Society, Lord (then J. Maynard) -Keynes wrote that he hoped and believed the day would come when the -problem of earning one’s daily bread might not be the most important one -of our lives, and that “the arena of the heart and head will be -occupied, or reoccupied, by our real problems—the problems of life and -of human relations, of creation and behavior and religion.” Then, “for -the first time since his creation,” Lord Keynes continued, “man will be -faced with his real, his permanent problem—how to use his freedom from -pressing economic cares, how to occupy the leisure science and compound -interest will have won for him to live wisely and agreeably and well.”</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>Stripped to the simplest explanation possible, Sadler’s Wells leased its -company to Covent Garden for a period of years. The move must have -entailed a prodigious amount of work for all concerned and for Ninette -de Valois in particular. Quite apart from all the physical detail -involved: new scenery, new musical material, new costumes, more dancers, -there was, most importantly, a change of point of view, even of -direction. With a large theatre and orchestra, and large -responsibilities, experimental works for the moment had to be postponed. -New thinking had to be employed, because the company’s direction was now -in the terms of the Maryinsky Theatre, the Bolshoi, the Paris Opéra.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_229">{229}</a></span></p> - -<p>The keystone of the arch that is Sadler’s Wells’s policy is the -full-length productions of classical ballets. The prime example is <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, my own reactions to which, when I first saw it, I have -already recounted. In the production of this work, the company was -preeminent, with Margot Fonteyn as a bright, particular star; but the -“star” system, if one cares to call it that, was utilized to the full, -since each night there was a change of cast; and it must be remembered -that in London it is possible to present a full-length work every night -for a month or more without changing the bill, whereas in this country, -almost daily changes are required. This, it should be pointed out, -required a good deal of audience training.</p> - -<p>The magnificent production of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> cost more than -£10,000, at British costs. What the costs for such a production as that -would have been on this side of the Atlantic I dislike to contemplate. -The point is that it was a complete financial success. Another point I -should like to make is that while <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> was presented -nightly, week after week, there was no slighting of the other classical -works such as the full-length <i>Swan Lake</i>, <i>Coppélia</i>, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, -and <i>Giselle</i>; nor was there any diminution of new works or revivals of -works from their own repertoire.</p> - -<p>It was in 1948 I returned to London further to pursue the matter of -their invasion of America. It was my very dear friend, the late Ralph -Hawkes of the music publishing firm of Boosey and Hawkes, the -leaseholders of Covent Garden, who helped materially in arranging -matters and in persuading the Sadler’s Wells direction and the British -Arts Council that they were ready for America and that, since Hawkes was -closely identified with America’s musical life, that this country was -ready for them.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Ninette de Valois grew increasingly dubious about -full-length, full-evening ballets, such as <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> and -<i>Swan Lake</i>, in the States, and was convinced in her own mind that the -United States and Canadian audiences not only would not accept them, -much less sit still before a single work lasting three and one-half -hours. Much, of course, was at stake for all concerned and it was, -indeed, a serious problem about which to make a final, inevitable -decision.</p> - -<p>The conferences were long and many. Conferences are a natural -concomitant of ballet. But there was a vast difference between these -conferences and the hundreds I had had with the Russians, the -Caucasians, the Bulgarians, and the Axminsters. Here were neither -intrigues nor whims, neither suspicion nor stupidity. On the contrary,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_230">{230}</a></span> -here was reasonableness, logic, frankness, fundamental British honesty. -George Borodin, a Russian-born Englishman and a great ballet-lover, once -pointed out that ballet is a medium that transcends words, adding “the -tongue is a virtuoso that can make an almost inexhaustible series of -noises of all kinds.” In my countless earlier conferences with other -ballet directorates, really few of those noises, alas, really meant -anything.</p> - -<p>At last, the affirmative decision was made and we arrived at an -agreement on the repertoire for the American season, to include the -full-length works, along with a representative cross-section, -historically speaking, of the Sadler’s Wells repertoire of their shorter -works. The matter settled, I left for home.</p> - -<p>On my return to New York, still other problems awaited me. The -Metropolitan Opera House, the only possible New York stage on which -Sadler’s Wells could appear, was faced with difficulties and -perplexities, with other commitments for the period when the British -visitors would be here.</p> - -<p>However, thanks to the invaluable cooperation and assistance of Edward -Johnson, Alfred P. Sloan, and Mrs. August Belmont, it was decided that a -part of the season should be given to Sadler’s Wells. Had it not been -for their friendly, intelligent, and influential offices, New York might -not have had the pleasure and privilege of the Sadler’s Wells visit.</p> - -<p>The road at last having been cleared, our promotional campaign was -started and was limited to four weeks. The response is a matter of -theatrical history.</p> - -<p>Here, for the first time in the United States, was a company carrying on -the great tradition in classical ballet, with timely and contemporary -additions. Here was a company with a broad repertoire based on and -imbedded in the full-length classics, but also bolstered with modern -works that strike deep into human experience. Here were choreographers -who strove to broaden the scope of their art and to bring into their -works some of the richness of modern psychology and drama, always -balletic in idiom, with freedom of style, who permitted their dramatic -imaginations to guide them in creating movement and in the use of music.</p> - -<p>By boat came the splendid productions, the costumes, the properties, -loads and loads of them. By special chartered planes came the company, -and the technical staff, the entire contingent headed by the famous -directorial trio, Ninette de Valois, Frederick Ashton, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_231">{231}</a></span> Constant -Lambert, with the executive side in the capable hands of David Webster, -General Administrator. The technical department was magnificently -presided over by Herbert Hughes, General Manager of the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet, and the late Louis Yudkin, General Stage Director.</p> - -<p>It was an American <i>ballerina</i>, Nora Kaye, who hustled Margot Fonteyn -from the airport to let her have her first peek at the Metropolitan -Opera House. The curtain was up when they arrived, revealing the old -gold and red auditorium. Margot’s perceptive eyes took it all in at a -glance. She took a deep breath, clasped her hands in front of her. -“Thank goodness,” she said, “it’s old and comfortable and warm and rich, -as an opera house should be.” She paused for a reflective moment and -added, “I was so afraid it would be slick and modern like everything -else here, all steel and chromium, and spit and polish. I’m glad it’s -old!”.</p> - -<p>On an afternoon before the opening, my very good friend, Hans Juda, -publisher of Britain’s international textile journal, <i>Ambassador</i>, -together with his charming wife, gave a large and delightful cocktail -party at Sherry’s in the Metropolitan Opera House for a large list of -invited guests from the worlds of art, business, and diplomacy. Hans -Juda is a very helpful and influential figure in the world of British -textiles and wearing apparel. It was he, together with the amiable James -Cleveland Belle of the famous Bond Street house of Horrocks, who -arranged with British designers, dressmakers, textile manufacturers, and -tailors to see that each member of the Sadler’s Wells company was -outfitted with complete wardrobes for both day and evening wear; the -distaff side with hats, suits, frocks, shoes, and accessories; the male -side with lounge suits, dinner jackets, shoes, gloves, etc. The men were -also furnished with, shall I say, necessaries for the well-dressed man, -which were soon packed away, viz., bowler hats (“derbies” to the -American native) and “brollies” (umbrellas to Broadway).</p> - -<p>The next night was, in more senses than one, the <i>BIG</i> night: a -completely fabulous <i>première</i>. The Metropolitan was sold out weeks in -advance, with standees up to, and who knows, perhaps beyond, the normal -capacity. Hundreds of ballet lovers had stood in queue for hours to -obtain a place in the coveted sardine space, reaching in double line -completely round the square block the historic old house occupies on -Broadway, Seventh Avenue, Thirty-ninth and Fortieth Streets. The -orchestra stalls and boxes were filled with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_232">{232}</a></span> great in all walks of -life. The central boxes of the “Golden Horseshoe,” draped in the Stars -and Stripes and the Union Jack, housed the leading figures of the -diplomatic and municipal worlds.</p> - -<p>Although the date was 9 October, it was the hottest night of the summer, -as luck would have it. The Metropolitan Opera House is denied the -benefit of modern air-conditioning; the temperature within its hallowed -walls, thanks to the mass of humanity and the lights, was many degrees -above that of the humid blanket outside.</p> - -<p>Despite all this, so long as I shall live, I shall never forget the -stirring round of applause that greeted that distinguished figure, -Constant Lambert, as he entered the orchestra pit to lead the orchestra -in the two anthems, the Star Spangled Banner and God Save the King. The -audience resumed their seats; there was a bated pause, and then from the -pit came the first notes of the overture to <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, under -the sympathetic baton of that finest of ballet conductors. So long as I -shall live I shall never forget the deafening applause as the curtains -opened on the first of Oliver Messel’s sets and costumes. That applause, -which was repeated and repeated—for Fonteyn’s entrance, increasing in -its roar until, at the end, Dame Ninette had to make a little speech, -against her will—still rings in my ears.</p> - -<p>I have had the privilege of handling the world’s greatest artists and -most distinguished attractions; my career has been punctuated with -stirring opening performances of my own, and I have been at others quite -as memorable. However, so far as the quality of the demonstrations and -the manifestations of enthusiasm are concerned, the <i>première</i> of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet at the Metropolitan Opera House, on 9 October, -1949, was the most outstanding of my entire experience.</p> - -<p>Dame Ninette de Valois, outwardly as calm as ever, but, I suspect, -inwardly a mass of conflicting emotions, was seated in the box with -Mayor O’Dwyer. As the curtains closed on the first act of <i>The Sleeping -Beauty</i>, and the tremendous roar of cheers and applause rose from the -packed house, the Mayor laid his hand on “Madame’s” arm and said, “Lady, -you’re <i>in</i>!”</p> - -<p>Crisply and a shade perplexed, “Madame” replied:</p> - -<p>“In?... Really?”</p> - -<p>Genuinely puzzled now, she tried unsuccessfully to translate to herself -what this could mean. “Strange language,” she thought, “I’m <i>in</i>?... In -what?... What on earth does that mean?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_233">{233}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>We met in the interval. I grasped her hand in sincere congratulation. -She patted me absently as she smiled. Then she turned and spoke.</p> - -<p>“Look here,” she said, “could you translate for me, please, something -His Lordship just said to me as the curtain fell? Put it into English, I -mean?”</p> - -<p>It was my turn to be puzzled. “Madame” was, I thought, seated with Mayor -O’Dwyer. Had she wandered about, moved to another box?</p> - -<p>“His Lordship?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, of course. Your Lord Mayor, with whom I am sitting.”</p> - -<p>I hadn’t thought of O’Dwyer in terms of a peer.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes,” she continued, “as the applause, that very surprising -applause rang out at the end, the Lord Mayor turned to me and said, -‘Lady, you’re <i>in</i>!’ Just like that. Now will you please translate for -me what it is? Tell me, is that good or bad?”</p> - -<p>Laughingly I replied, “What do you think?”</p> - -<p>“I really don’t know” was her serious and sincere response.</p> - -<p>The simple fact was that Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E., D. Litt., to -whose untiring efforts Sadler’s Wells owes its success, its existence, -its very being, honestly thought the company was failing in New York.</p> - -<p>This most gala of gala nights was crowned by a large and extremely gay -supper party given by Mayor O’Dwyer, at Gracie Mansion, the official -residence of the Mayor of the City of New York. It was a warm and balmy -night, with an Indian Summer moon—one of those halcyon nights all too -rare. Because of this, it was possible to stage the supper in that most -idyllic of settings, on the spacious lawn overlooking the moon-drenched -East River, with the silhouettes of the great bridges etched in silver -lights against the glow from the hundreds of colored lights strung over -the lawn. Beneath all this gleamed the white linen of the many tables, -the sparkle of crystal, the gloss of the silver.</p> - -<p>Two orchestras provided continuous dance music, the food and the -champagne were ineffable. It was a party given by the Mayor: to honor -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet and to cement those cultural ties between the -two great world centers, London and New York. What better means are -there for mutual understanding and admiration?</p> - -<p>There was, however, a delay on the part of the company in leaving the -Metropolitan Opera House, a quite extended delay. Three<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_234">{234}</a></span> large buses -waited at the stage door, manned by Police Department Inspectors in -dress uniforms, with gold badges. But this was the first time the -company had worn the new evening creations I have mentioned. It took -longer to array themselves in these than it did for them to prepare for -the performance. As a matter of fact, Margot Fonteyn and Moira Shearer -were the last to be ready, each of them ravishing and stunning, the -dark, flashing brunette beauty of Fonteyn in striking contrast to the -soft, pinkish loveliness of Shearer.</p> - -<p>Then it was necessary for our staff and the police to form a flying -wedge to clear a path from the stage door to the waiting buses through -the tightly-packed crowd that waited in Fortieth Street for a glimpse of -the triumphant stars.</p> - -<p>Safe aboard at last, off the cavalcade started, headed by a Police -Department squad car, with siren tied down, red lights flashing, -together with two motorcycle police officers fifteen feet in advance and -the same complement, squad car and outriders, bringing up the rear of -the procession, through the red traffic lights, thus providing the -company with yet another American thrill.</p> - -<p>There was a tense instant as the procession left the Metropolitan and -the police sirens commenced their wail. The last time the company had -heard a siren was in the days of the blitz in London, when, no matter -how inured one became, the siren’s first tintinnabulation brought on -that sudden shock that no familiarity can entirely eradicate. It was -Constant Lambert’s dry wit that eased the situation. “It’s all right, -girls,” he called out, “that’s the ‘all clear.’<span class="lftspc">”</span>.</p> - -<p>Heading the receiving line at Gracie Mansion, as the company descended -the wide stairs into the festive garden, were the Mayor and Grover -Whalen, Sir Oliver and Lady Franks, Sir Alexander Cadogan, the Honorable -Trygve Lie, President Romulo. There was a twinkle in Mayor O’Dwyer’s -eye, as some of the <i>corps de ballet</i> girls curtsied with a -“Good-evening, your Lordship.”</p> - -<p>Toasts were drunk to the President of the United States, the King of -England, Dame Ninette de Valois, to the Mayor, to Margot Fonteyn, Moira -Shearer, and the other principals. The party waxed even gayer. Dancers -seem never to tire of dancing. It was three in the morning when the -Mayor made a short speech to say “good-night,” explaining that he was -under doctor’s orders to go to bed, but that the party was to continue -unabated, and all were to enjoy themselves.</p> - -<p>It was past four o’clock when it finally broke up, and the buses,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_235">{235}</a></span> with -their police escorts, started the journey back through a sleeping -Manhattan to deposit the company at their various hotels. Constant -Lambert, the lone wolf, lived apart from the rest at an East Side hotel. -All the rest of the company had been dropped, when three buses, six -inspectors, two squad cars, four motorcycle officers, halted before the -sedate hostelry after five in the morning, and Constant Lambert, the -sole passenger in the imposing cavalcade, slowly and with a grave, -seventeenth-century dignity, solemnly shook hands with drivers, motor -police, and all the inspectors, thanked them for the extremely -interesting, and, as he put it, “highly informative” journey, saluted -them with his sturdy blackthorn stick, and disappeared within the chaste -portals of the hotel, while the police stood at salute, and two -bewildered milk-men looked on in wonder.</p> - -<p>The New York season was limited only by the availability of the -Metropolitan Opera House. We could have played for months. Also, the -company was due back at Covent Garden to fulfil its obligations to the -British taxpayer. Following the Metropolitan engagement, there was a -brief tour, involving a special train of six baggage cars, diner, and -seven Pullmans, visiting, with equal success and greeted by capacity and -turn-away houses, Washington, Richmond, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, -Chicago, and Michigan State College at East Lansing; thence across the -border into Canada, for engagements at Toronto, Ottawa, and Montreal, to -honor the Commonwealth.</p> - -<p>Before David Webster returned to London, we discussed the matter of an -early return for a longer stay. I pointed out that, with such an evident -success, Sadler’s Wells could not afford to delay its return for still -further and greater triumphs. Now, I emphasized, was the time to take -advantage of the momentum of success; now, if ever, was the time, since -the promotion, the publicity, the press notices, all were cumulative in -effect.</p> - -<p>Webster, I knew, was impressed. I waited for his answer. But he shook -his head slowly.</p> - -<p>“Sol,” he said, “it’s doubtful. Frankly, I do not think it is possible.”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, I discussed the entire matter of the return with leading -members of the company. All were of a single opinion, all of one mind. -They were anxious and eager to return.</p> - -<p>Such are the workings of the Sadler’s Wells organization, however, that -it was necessary to delay a decision as to a return visit until at least -the 3rd or 4th of January, 1950, in order that the mat<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_236">{236}</a></span>ter could be -properly put before the British Arts Council and the British Council for -their final approval.</p> - -<p>It should not be difficult for the reader to understand the anxiety and -eagerness with which I anticipated that date.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>It seems to me that during this period of suspense it might be well for -me to sum up my impression of the repertoire that made up the initial -season.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells Ballet repertoire for the first American season -consisted of the following works: <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>; <i>Le Lac des -Cygnes</i> (<i>Swan Lake</i>) in full; <i>Cinderella</i>, in three acts; <i>Job</i>; -<i>Façade</i>; <i>Apparitions</i>; <i>The Rake’s Progress</i>; <i>Miracle in the -Gorbals</i>; <i>Hamlet</i>; <i>Symphonic Variations</i>; <i>A Wedding Bouquet</i>; and -<i>Checkmate</i>. The order is neither alphabetical nor necessarily in the -order of importance. Actually, irrespective of varying degrees of -success on this side of the Atlantic, they are all important, for they -represent, in a sense, a cross-section of the repertoire history of the -company.</p> - -<p><i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, in its Sadler’s Wells form, is a ballet in a -Prologue and three acts. The story is a collaboration by Marius Petipa -and I. A. Vsevolojsky, (the Director of the Russian Imperial Theatres at -the time of its creation), after the Charles Perrault fairy tale. The -music, of course, is Tchaikowsky’s immortal score. The scenery and -costumes are by Oliver Messel. The original Petipa choreography was -reproduced by Nicholas Serguëeff.</p> - -<p>It was the work which so brilliantly inaugurated the company’s -occupation of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, on 20th February, -1946. Sadler’s Wells had previously revived the work in 1939, on a -smaller scale, under the title <i>The Sleeping Princess</i>.</p> - -<p>My unforgettable memories of the present production are topped by the -inspired interpretation of the title role by Margot Fonteyn, who -alternated moods of subtlety and childlike simplicity with brilliant -fireworks, always within the ballet’s frame. There is the shining memory -of Beryl Grey’s magnificent Lilac Fairy, the memory of the alternating -casts, one headed by Moira Shearer, entirely different in its way. There -is, as a matter of fact, little difference between the casts. Always -there were such ensemble performances as the States had never before -seen. Over all shone the magnificence of Oliver Messel’s scenery and -costumes.</p> - -<p>The full-length <i>Swan Lake</i> (<i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i>), actually in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_237">{237}</a></span> four -acts, was a revelation to audiences for years accustomed to the -truncated second act version. Its libretto, or book, is a Russian -compilation by Begitschev and Geltser. It was first presented by -Sadler’s Wells in the present settings and costumes by Leslie Hurry, -with the original choreography by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, -reproduced by Nicholas Serguëeff, on 7th September, 1943.</p> - -<p>This production replaced an earlier one, first done at the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, on 20th November, 1934, with Alicia Markova as the Swan -Queen, and the scenery and costumes by Hugh Stevenson.</p> - -<p>On the 13th April, 1947, it came to Covent Garden, with an increased -<i>corps de ballet</i>, utilizing the entire Covent Garden stage, as it does -at the Metropolitan Opera House.</p> - -<p>As always, Margot Fonteyn is brilliant in the dual role of Odette-Odile. -In all my wide experience of Swan Queens, Fonteyn today is unequaled. -With the Sadler’s Wells company, there is no dearth of first-rate Swan -Queens: Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer, Beryl Grey, Violetta Elvin. -Altogether, in case the reader has not already suspected it, <i>Swan Lake</i> -is, I think, my favorite ballet. It is not only a classical ballet; it -is a classic. The haunting Tchaikowsky score, its sheer romanticism, its -dramatic impact, all these things individually and together, give it its -pride of place with the public of America as well as with myself. Here -my vote is with the majority.</p> - -<p>The third full-length work, so splendid in its settings and so bulky -that its performances had to be limited by its physical proportions only -to the largest stages, was <i>Cinderella</i>, which took up every inch on the -great stage of the Metropolitan Opera House. <i>Cinderella</i> was the first -full evening ballet in the modern repertoire of Sadler’s Wells. A -three-act work, with choreography by Frederick Ashton, to the score by -Serge Prokofieff, its scenery and costumes are by the French painter, -Jean-Denis Malclès.</p> - -<p>Here was an instance where the chief choreographer of Sadler’s Wells, -Frederick Ashton, had the courage to tackle a full-length fairy story, -the veritable stuff from which true ballets are made in the grand -tradition of classical ballet: a formidable task. The measure of his -success is that he managed to do it by telling a beautiful and -thrice-familiar fairy tale in a direct and straightforward manner, never -dragging in spectacle for the sake of spectacle. Moreover, he was -eminently successful in avoiding, on the one hand, those sterilities of -classicism that lead only to boredom, and the grotesqueries of -modernism, on the other.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_238">{238}</a></span></p> - -<p>For music, Ashton took the score Prokofieff composed for the Soviet -ballet of the same name, but created an entirely new work to the music. -The settings and costumes by Malclès could not have been more right, -filled as they are with the glamor of the fairy tale spirit and utterly -free from any trace of vulgarity.</p> - -<p>I shall always remember the Ugly Sisters of Ashton and Robert Helpmann, -in the best tradition of English pantomime. Moreover, the production was -blessed with three alternating Cinderellas, each individual in approach -and interpretation: Fonteyn, Shearer, and Elvin.</p> - -<p><i>Job</i>, the reader will remember, is not called a ballet but “A Masque -for Dancing.” The adaptation of the Biblical legend in the spirit of the -William Blake drawings is the work of a distinguished British surgeon -and Blake authority, Geoffrey Keynes. It was the first important -choreographic work of Ninette de Valois. Its scenery and costumes were -the product of John Piper; its music is one of the really great scores -of that dean of living British composers, Ralph Vaughan Williams.</p> - -<p>In the music, completely modern in idiom, Vaughan Williams has followed -the overall pattern of the sixteenth and seventeenth century “Masques,” -using period rhythms (but not melodies) such as the <i>Pavane</i>, the -<i>Minuet</i>, the <i>Saraband</i>, and the <i>Gaillard</i>.</p> - -<p>The production itself is on two levels, in which all the earthly, -material characters remain on the stage level, while the spiritual -characters are on a higher level, the two levels being joined by a large -flight of steps.</p> - -<p>One character stands out in domination of the work. That is Satan, -created by Anton Dolin, and danced here by Robert Helpmann. The climax -of <i>Job</i> occurs when Satan is hurled down from heaven. The whole thing -is a work of deep and moving beauty—a serious, thoughtful work that -ranks as one of Ninette de Valois’ masterpieces.</p> - -<p><i>Façade</i> represented the opposite extreme in the Sadler’s Wells -repertoire. There was considerable doubt on the part of the company’s -directorate that it would be acceptable on this side of the Atlantic, -because of its essential British humor; it was also feared that it might -be dated. As matters turned out, it was one of the most substantial -successes among the shorter works.</p> - -<p><i>Façade</i> was originally staged by Ashton for the Camargo Society in -1931, came to the Sadler’s Wells Ballet in 1935, was lost in the German -invasion of Holland, and was restored in the present settings<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_239">{239}</a></span> and -costumes of John Armstrong in 1940. It is, of course, freely adapted -from the Edith Sitwell poems, with the popular score by Sir William -Walton.</p> - -<p>Fresh, witty, and humorous throughout, there is no suggestion of either -provincialism or of being dated. Its highlights for me were the Tango, -superbly danced by Frederick Ashton and Moira Shearer, who alternated -with Pamela May, and the Yodelling Song with its bucolic milkmaid.</p> - -<p><i>Apparitions</i> perhaps bore too close a resemblance in plot to Massine’s -treatment of the Berlioz <i>Symphonie Fantastique</i>, although the former is -a much earlier work, having been staged by Ashton in 1933. Its story is -by Constant Lambert; its music, a Lambert selection of the later music -of Franz Liszt, re-orchestrated by Gordon Jacob. Cecil Beaton designed -the extremely effective scenery and costumes. It was taken into the -Sadler’s Wells repertoire in 1936.</p> - -<p>It provided immensely effective roles for Margot Fonteyn and Robert -Helpmann.</p> - -<p>Strikingly successful was Ninette de Valois’ <i>The Rake’s Progress</i>. This -is a six-scene work, based on William Hogarth’s famous series of -paintings of the same name. Its story, like its music, is by Gavin -Gordon. Its setting, a permanent closed box, subject to minor changes -during the action, scene to scene, with an act-drop of a London street, -is by the late Rex Whistler, as are the costumes, Hogarthian in style.</p> - -<p>It is a highly dramatic work, in reality a sort of morality play, -perhaps, more than it is a ballet in the accepted sense of the term, but -a tremendously important work in the evolution of the repertoire that is -so peculiarly Sadler’s Wells.</p> - -<p><i>Miracle in the Gorbals</i> is another of the theatre pieces in the -repertoire. The choreographic work of Robert Helpmann, it is based on a -story by Michael Benthall, to a specially commissioned score by Sir -Arthur Bliss. Its setting and costumes are by the British artist, Edward -Burra. It was a wartime addition to the repertoire in the fall of 1944.</p> - -<p>Like <i>The Rake’s Progress</i>, <i>Miracle in the Gorbals</i> is also a sort of -morality play, with strong overtones of a sociological tract. Bearing -plot and theme resemblances to Jerome K. Jerome’s <i>The Passing of the -Third Floor Back</i>, it puts the question: “What sort of treatment would -God receive if he returned to earth and visited the slums of a twentieth -century city?”</p> - -<p>A realistic work, it deals with low-life in a strictly <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_240">{240}</a></span>down-to-earth -manner. As a spectacle of crowded tenement life, it mingles such -theatrical elements as the raising of the dead, murder, suicide, -prostitution. The Bliss music splendidly underlines the action.</p> - -<p>With all of its drama and melodrama, it was not, nevertheless, one of my -favorite works.</p> - -<p>The other Helpmann creation was <i>Hamlet</i>, staged by him two years before -<i>Miracle in the Gorbals</i>, in 1942. Utilizing the Tchaikowsky -fantasy-overture, its tremendously effective scenery and costumes are by -Leslie Hurry.</p> - -<p><i>Hamlet</i> was not an attempt to tell the Shakespeare story in ballet -form. Rather is it a work that attempts to portray the dying thoughts of -Hamlet as his life passes before him in review. Drama rather than dance, -it is a spectacle, linked from picture to picture by dances, a work in -which mime plays an important part.</p> - -<p><i>Symphonic Variations</i>, set to César Franck’s work for piano and -orchestra of the same title, was Ashton’s first purely dance work in -abstract form.</p> - -<p>A work without plot, it employed only six dancers, three couples, on an -immense stage in an immensely effective setting of great simplicity by -Sophie Fedorovich. The six dancers were: Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer, -and Pamela May; Michael Somes, Henry Danton, and Brian Shaw. There is no -virtuoso role. It is a lyric work, calm, ordered, in which the classical -spirit is exalted in a mood of all for one, one for all.</p> - -<p><i>A Wedding Bouquet</i> is certainly the most genuinely witty work in all -modern ballet repertoire. The work of that genuine wit and gentleman of -impeccable taste in music, literature, and painting, the late Lord -Berners, it was staged by Ashton in 1937. Utilizing a text by Gertrude -Stein, spoken by a narrator seated at a table at the side of the stage, -its music, its scenery, its costumes, all are by Lord Berners. At the -Metropolitan Opera House, the narrator was the inimitable Constant -Lambert. In later performances, the role was taken over by Robert -Irving, the chief conductor.</p> - -<p>The work, a collaboration between Ashton, Berners, and Gertrude Stein, -is the most completely sophisticated ballet I know. The amazing thing -about it to me is that with its utterly integrated Stein text, it goes -as well in large theatres as it does in the smaller ones. The text is as -important as the dancing or the music.</p> - -<p>For me, aside from the hilarity of the work itself, was the pleasure I -derived from the performance of Moira Shearer as the thwarted<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_241">{241}</a></span> spinster -who loved her dog, and June Brae, who danced the role of Josephine, who -was certainly not fitted to go to a wedding, as Gertrude Stein averred. -As the Bridegroom, Robert Helpmann provided a comic masterpiece.</p> - -<p><i>Checkmate</i> was the first British ballet to have its <i>première</i> outside -the country, having been first presented as a part of the Dance Festival -at the International Exposition in Paris, in the summer of 1937. Both -music and book are by Sir Arthur Bliss, with scenery and costumes by the -Anglo-American artist, E. McKnight Kauffer.</p> - -<p>The concerns of the ballet are with a game of chess, with the dancers -pawns in the game. It appeals to me strongly, and I feel it is one of -Ninette de Valois’ finest choreographic achievements. It is highly -dramatic, leading to a grim tragedy. Its music is tremendously fine and -McKnight Kauffer’s settings and costumes are striking, effective, and -revolutionary. This is a work of first importance in all ballet -repertoire.</p> - -<p>I embarked upon a continuing bombardment of Ninette de Valois and David -Webster by cables and long-distance telephone calls. I never for a -instant let the matter out of my mind.</p> - -<p>As I counted off the days until a decision was due, the old year ran -out. It was on New Year’s Eve, while working in my office, that I was -taken ill. I had not been feeling entirely myself for several days, but -illness is something so foreign to me that I laughed it off as something -presumably due to some irregularity of living.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, late in the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, I found myself -doubled up with pain. I was rushed to hospital. A hasty blood-count -revealed the necessity for an immediate appendectomy. Before the old -year was greeted by the new, I had submitted to surgery. The doctors -said it was just in time—a case of “touch and go.” A good many things -in my life have been that.</p> - -<p>A minimum of a week’s hospitalization was imperative, the doctors said, -and after that another fortnight of quiet recuperation. I remained in -hospital the required week.</p> - -<p>Very soon after, against the united wishes of Mrs. Hurok and my office, -I was on a plane bound for London.</p> - -<p>At the London airport I was met by David Webster, who took me as quickly -and as smoothly as possible to my old stamping-ground, the Savoy Hotel, -where, on Webster’s firm insistence, I spent the next twelve hours in -bed. There followed extended consultations with Ninette de Valois and -Webster; but neither was able to give<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_242">{242}</a></span> a definite answer on the -all-important matter of the second American tour.</p> - -<p>I pointed out to them that, in order to protect all concerned, bookings -were already being made across the United States and Canada: bookings -involving in many instances, definite guarantees. As I waited for a -decision, my office was daily badgering me. I was at a loss what to -reply to them. There were daily inconclusive trans-Atlantic telephone -conversations with my office and daily inconclusive conversations with -the Sadler’s Wells directorate.</p> - -<p>At last there came a glimmer. Webster announced that he believed a final -decision could be reached at or about 16th February. He required, he -said, that much further time in order to be able to figure out the -precise costs of the venture and to determine what, if anything, might -be left after the payment of all the terrific costs. In other words, he -had to determine and calculate the precise nature of the risk.... -Figures, figures, and still more figures.... Cables backwards and -forwards across the Atlantic, with my New York office checking and -rechecking on the capacities of the auditoriums, theatres, opera houses, -and halls in which the bookings had been made.</p> - -<p>The 16th February passed and still no decision was forthcoming. On 19th -February, all that could be elicited from Webster was: “I simply can’t -say at this juncture.” He added that he appreciated my position and -regretted the daily disappointments to which I was being subjected.</p> - -<p>There came the 22nd of February, in the United States the anniversary of -the birth of George Washington. This year in London, the 22nd of -February was the eve of the General Election. Most of the afternoon I -spent with Webster at his flat, going over papers. We dined together -and, as we parted, Webster’s only remark was: “See you at the -performance.”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the pressure on me from New York increased.</p> - -<p>“What <i>is</i> going to happen?” became the reiterated burden of the daily -messages from my office.</p> - -<p>Other matters in New York were requiring my attention, and it had become -necessary to inform Webster that it would be impossible for me to remain -any longer in London and that I was sailing in the <i>Queen Mary</i> on -Friday.</p> - -<p>Election Eve I went to the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, to watch -another Sadler’s Wells performance. In the main foyer I ran into -Webster.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_243">{243}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Can you guarantee us our expenses <i>and</i> a profit?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“I can.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a deal.”</p> - -<p>It was eight-thirty in the evening of the 22nd February that the verbal -deal was made. Five hours difference in time made it three-thirty in the -afternoon in New York. I hurried back to the Savoy and called Mae -Frohman.</p> - -<p>“What’s going to happen?”</p> - -<p>“It’s all set,” I replied.</p> - -<p>Back to Covent Garden I went. In the Crush Bar, Webster and I toasted -our deal with a bottle of champagne.</p> - -<p>During Election Day, Webster, “Madame,” and I worked on repertoire and -final details; but, for the most part, we gave our attention to the -early returns from the General Election. After the performance that -night at the Garden, David Webster and his friend James Cleveland Belle, -joined me at the Savoy and remained until four in the morning, with one -eye and one ear on the returns.</p> - -<p>The next day I sailed in the good <i>Queen Mary</i> and had a lovely -crossing, with my good friend, Greer Garson, on board to make the trip -even more pleasant.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hurok, my daughter Ruth, Mae Frohman, and my office staff met me at -the Cunard pier; and I told the whole story, in all its intricate -detail, to them.</p> - -<p>But there were still loose ends to be caught up, and April found me -again back in London. The night following my arrival, I gave a big party -at the Savoy, with Ninette de Valois, Margot Fonteyn, Moira Shearer and -David Webster as the guests of honor. We toasted the success of the -first American season; drank another to the success of the forthcoming -and much more extended tour.</p> - -<p>While in London, we clarified and agreed upon many details, including -the final repertoire for the second American venture—which was to -reach, not only from coast to coast, but to dip into the far south as -well as far to the north.</p> - -<p>Back in New York for a brief stay and then, in June, Mrs. Hurok and I -left for our annual sojourn in Europe. This time we went direct to -London, where we revelled in the performances at Covent Garden.</p> - -<p>I have always loved London and always have been a great admirer of -London, the place, and of those things for which it stands as a symbol. -I love suddenly coming upon the fascinating little squares, with their -stately old houses, as often as not adorned with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_244">{244}</a></span> a fifteenth-century -church. Although modernism sometimes almost encroaches, they still -retain an old-fashioned dreaminess.</p> - -<p>About all is the atmosphere of history, tradition, and the aura of a -genuinely free people. The Royal Opera House itself has a particular -fascination for me. So far as I am concerned, there is not the slightest -incongruity in the fact that its façade looks out on a police station -and police court and that it is almost otherwise surrounded by a garden -market. A patina of associations seems to cover the fabric, both inside -and out—whether it is the bare boards and iron rails of the high -old-fashioned gallery, or the gilt and red plush and cream-painted -woodwork, the thin pillars of the boxes, the rather awkward staircases, -the “Crush” bar and the other bars, the red curtain bearing the coat of -arms of the reigning Monarch. Then, lights down, the great curtain -sweeps up, and once again, for the hundredth time, the tense magic holds -everyone in thrall.</p> - -<p>I love the true ballet lovers who are not to be found in the boxes alone -or in the stalls exclusively. Many of them sit in the lower-priced seats -in the upper circle, the amphitheatre, and in the gallery. The night -before an opening or an important revival or cast change, a long queue, -equipped with camp-chairs and sandwiches, waits patiently to be admitted -to the gallery seats the following evening.</p> - -<p>There is one figure I miss now at Covent Carden, one that seemed to me -to be a part of its very fabric. For years, going back stage to see Anna -Pavlova, Chaliapine, others of my artists, and in the days of the de -Basil Ballet, it was he who always had a cheery greeting. In 1948, Tom -Jackson closed his eyes in the sleep everlasting, to open them, one -hopes, at some Great Stage Door. He was the legendary stage door-keeper, -was Tom Jackson, and certainly one of the most important persons in -Covent Garden. He was a gentleman in the best sense of the word. Many -were the celebrated artists he saw come and go during his long regime. -Everybody spoke to him in their own tongue, although Jackson invariably -replied in English. He was, I remember, in charge of the artists’ mail, -and knew everyone, and remembered every name and every face. Jackson was -not only interested in his stage door, but took deep interest in the -artistic aspect of Covent Garden. Immediately after a performance of -either ballet or opera, he made up his mind whether it had been good or -bad.</p> - -<p>Sometimes it fell to Jackson’s lot to regulate matters outside<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_245">{245}</a></span> the -Garden. The gallery queues, as is the London custom, attract all sorts -of itinerant musicians and entertainers to the Floral Street side where -they display and reveal their art to the patiently waiting galleryites. -If the hurdy-gurdies and public acclamations grew so loud that they -might disturb any in the offices above, Jackson, with infallible tact, -stopped the disturbance without offending the queuers or the -entertainers by his interference.</p> - -<p>Jackson guarded the Garden inexorably and was relentless on questions of -admission. With unerring instinct, he distinguished between friend and -foe, and was renowned for his treatment of the yellow press and its -columnists, with its nose for gossip and scandal. He is said once to -have unceremoniously deposited an over-enthusiastic columnist in the -street, after having refused a considerable sum of money for permission -to photograph a fainting <i>ballerina</i>. He was once seen chasing a large -woman who was brandishing a heavy umbrella around the outside of the -building. The large woman, in turn, was chasing Leonide Massine running -at full tilt. The woman, obviously a crackpot, had accused Massine of -stealing her idea for a ballet. Jackson caught the woman and disarmed -her.</p> - -<p>The London stage doorkeeper is really a breed unto himself.</p> - -<p>I love opening nights at Covent Garden, when it becomes, quite apart -from the stage, a unique social function in the display of dresses and -jewels, despite the austerity. It is always a curious mixture of private -elegance and public excitement. The excitement extends to all streets of -the district, right down to the Strand, making a strange contrast with -the cabbage stalls, stray potatoes, and the odor of vegetables lingering -on from the early market. The impeccable and always polite London police -are in control of all approaches, directing the endless stream of cars -without delay as they draw up in the famous covered way under the -portico. Ceremoniously they take care of all arriving pedestrians, and -surprisingly hold up even the most pretentious and important traffic to -let the pedestrian seat-holder through. The richly uniformed porters -keep chattering socialites from impeding traffic with a stern ritual all -their own, and announcing waiting cars in stentorian tones.... Ever in -my mind Covent Garden is associated with that sacred hour back stage -before a ballet performance, the company in training-kits, practising -relentlessly. Only those who know this hour can form any idea of the -overwhelming cost of the dancers’ brief glamorous hour before the -public.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_246">{246}</a></span></p> - -<p>Particularizing from the general, from the very beginning, in all -contacts with the British and with Sadler’s Wells, the relations between -all concerned have been like those prevailing in a kind and -understanding family, and they remain so today.</p> - -<p>And now at the Savoy is the best smoked salmon in the world—Scottish -salmon. When I am there, a special large tray of it is always ready for -me. It is a passion I share with Ninette de Valois, who insists it is -her favorite dish. The question I am about to ask is purely rhetorical: -Is there anything finer than smoked Scottish salmon, with either a cold, -dry champagne or Scotch whiskey?</p> - -<p>The repertoire for the second American-Canadian tour of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet included, in addition to <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, the -four-act <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i> (<i>Swan Lake</i>), <i>Façade</i>, <i>A Wedding -Bouquet</i>, <i>The Rake’s Progress</i> and <i>Checkmate</i>, the following works new -to America: their own production of <i>Giselle</i>, <i>Les Patineurs</i>, <i>Don -Quixote</i>, and <i>Dante Sonata</i>.</p> - -<p><i>Giselle</i>, in the Sadler’s Wells version, with its Adam score, has -scenery and costumes by James Bailey, and was produced by Nicholas -Serguëeff, after the choreography of Coralli and Perrot.</p> - -<p>The original Wells production was at the Old Vic, in 1934, with Alicia -Markova in the title role. The production for Covent Garden dates from -1946, with Margot Fonteyn as Giselle.</p> - -<p>It requires no comment from me save to point out that Fonteyn is one of -the most interesting and effective interpreters of the role in my -experience, and I have seen a considerable number of Giselles.</p> - -<p><i>Les Patineurs</i> had been seen in America in a version danced by Ballet -Theatre. The Sadler’s Wells version is so much better that there is no -real basis for comparison. This version, by Frederick Ashton, dates back -to 1937. It has an interesting history. It is my understanding that the -original idea was that Ninette de Valois would stage it. The story has -it that, one night at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre, Ashton, whose -dressing-room adjoined that of Constant Lambert, heard the latter -working out dance rhythms from two Meyerbeer operas, <i>Star of the North</i> -and <i>The Prophet</i>. The story goes on that Ashton was moved by the -melodies and that because “Madame” was so occupied with executive and -administrative duties, the choreographic job was given to him. Ashton -states that he composed this ballet, which is exclusively concerned with -skating, without ever having seen an ice-rink.</p> - -<p>I find it one of the most charming ballets in the repertoire,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_247">{247}</a></span> with -something in it for everyone. In these days of so-called “ice-ballets,” -which have little or no relation to ballet, however much they may have -to do with ice, I find here an academic ballet, which is very close to -skating.</p> - -<p><i>Don Quixote</i> was seen in but a few cities. It was the most recent work, -at that time, to be shown. Choreographed by Ninette de Valois, it was a -ballet in five scenes with both its scenario and its music by Robert -Gerhard, with scenery and costumes by Edward Burra.</p> - -<p>The story, of course, was the Cervantes tale. It was not a “dancing” -ballet, in the sense that it had no virtuoso passages. But it told its -story, nevertheless, through the medium of dance rather than by mime and -acting. My outstanding impressions of it are the splendid score, Margot -Fonteyn’s outstanding characterization of a dual role, and the shrewdly -observed Sancho Panza of the young Alexander Grant.</p> - -<p><i>Dante Sonata</i> was, in a sense, a collaborative work by Frederick Ashton -and Constant Lambert. Its date is 1940. Its scenery and costumes are by -Sophie Fedorovich. The music is the long piano sonata by Franz Liszt, -<i>D’après une lecture de Dante</i>, utilizing the poem by Victor Hugo. The -orchestration of the piano work by Lambert, with its use of Chinese -tam-tam and gong, is singularly effective.</p> - -<p>At the time of its production, there was a story in general circulation -to the effect that Ashton found his inspiration for the work in the -sufferings of the Polish people at the hands of the Nazi invaders. This -appears not to have been the case. The truth of the matter seems to have -been that at about the time he was planning the work, Ashton was deeply -moved by the death of a close and dear relative. The chief influence -would, therefore, seem to be this, and thus to account for the -choreographer’s savagery against the inevitability and immutability of -death.</p> - -<p>It is not, in any sense, a classical work, for Ashton, in order to -portray the contorted and writhing spirits, went to the “free” or -“modern” dance for appropriate movements. While, in the wide open spaces -of America, it did not fulfil the provincial audiences’ ideas of what -they expected from ballet, nevertheless it had some twenty-nine -performances in the United States and Canada.</p> - -<p>The second American season opened at the Metropolitan Opera House, on -Sunday evening, 10th September, 1950. Again it was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_248">{248}</a></span> hot. The full-length -<i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i> (<i>Swan Lake</i>) was the opening programme. The evening -was a repetition of the previous year: capacity, cheering houses, with -special cheers for Fonteyn.</p> - -<p>The demand for seats on the part of the New York public was even greater -than the year before, with a larger number consequently disappointed and -unable to get into the Metropolitan at all.</p> - -<p>From the company’s point of view, aside from hard work—daily classes, -rehearsals, and eight performances a week—there was a round of -entertainment for them, the most outstanding, perhaps, being the day -they spent as the guests of J. Alden Talbot at Smoke Rise, his New -Jersey estate.</p> - -<p>The last night’s programme at the Metropolitan season was <i>The Sleeping -Beauty</i>. The final night’s reception matched that of the first. Ninette -de Valois’ charming curtain speech, in which she announced another visit -on the part of the company to New York—“but not for some -time”—couldn’t keep the curtain down, and the calls continued until it -was necessary to turn up the house lights.</p> - -<p>Following the New York engagement, Sadler’s Wells embarked on the -longest tour of its history, and the most successful tour in the history -of ballet.</p> - -<p>The New York season extended from 10th September to 1st October. The -company appeared in the following cities: Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, -Atlanta, Birmingham, New Orleans, Houston, Los Angeles, San Francisco, -Sacramento, Denver, Lincoln, Des Moines, Omaha, Tulsa, Dallas, Oklahoma -City, Memphis, St. Louis, Bloomington, Lafayette, Detroit, Cleveland, -Cincinnati, Chicago, Winnipeg, Boston, White Plains, Toronto, Ottawa, -Montreal, and Quebec.</p> - -<p>Starting on the 10th September, in New York, the tour closed in Quebec -City on 28th January, 1951.</p> - -<p>In thirty-two cities, during a period of five months, the people of this -continent had paid more than two million and one-half dollars to see the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet. On Election Eve in London, David Webster had -asked me if I could guarantee them their expenses and a profit.</p> - -<p>On the first tour the company covered some ten thousand miles. On the -second tour, this was extended to some twenty-one thousand.</p> - -<p>The box-office records that were broken by the company could only add to -the burden of statistics. Suffice it to say, they were<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_249">{249}</a></span> many. History -was made: the sort of history that can be made again only by the next -Sadler’s Wells tour.</p> - -<p>Some idea of the magnitude of the transportation and railroading -problems involved in an extended tour of this sort may be gathered from -the fact that the “Sadler’s Wells Special” consisted of six Pullman -sleeping cars, six baggage cars, and two dining cars, together with a -club-bar-lounge car on long journeys.</p> - -<p>I made it a point to be with the company at all the larger cities. I -left them at Philadelphia, and awaited their arrival in Los Angeles. -Neither I nor Los Angeles has ever seen anything like the opening night -of their engagement at the enormous Shrine Auditorium, or like the -entire engagement, as a matter of fact.</p> - -<p>Because of a company rule that, on opening nights and in the case of -parties of official or semi-official greeting nature, the entire -personnel of the company and staff should attend in a body, an -unfortunate situation arose in Los Angeles. A Beverly Hills group had -announced a large party to which some of the company had been invited, -without having cleared the matter in advance. The resultant situation -was such that the advertised and publicized party was cancelled.</p> - -<p>The sudden cancellation left the company without a party with which to -relieve the strain of the long trek to the Pacific Coast, and the tense -excitement of the first performance in the world’s film capital. As a -consequence, I arranged to give a large party to the entire company and -staff, in conjunction with Edwin Lester, the Director of the Los Angeles -Civic Light Opera Association, and the local sponsor of the engagement. -The party took place at the Ambassador Hotel, where the entire company -was housed during the engagement, with its city within a city, its -palm-shaded swimming-pool.</p> - -<p>As master of ceremonies and guest of honor, we invited Charles Chaplin, -distinguished artist and famous Briton. Among the distinguished guests -from the film world were, among many others, Ezio Pinza, Edward G. -Robinson, Greer Garson, Barry Fitzgerald, Gene Tierney, Cyd Charisse, -Joseph Cotton, Louis Hayward.</p> - -<p>Chaplin was a unique master of ceremonies, urbane, gentle, witty. As -judge of a ballroom dancing contest, Chaplin awarded the prize to -Herbert Hughes, non-dancer and the company’s general manager.</p> - -<p>At the end of this phenomenal engagement, the company bade<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_250">{250}</a></span> <i>au revoir</i> -to Los Angeles and the many friends they had made in the film colony, -and entrained for San Francisco for an engagement at that finest of all -American opera houses, the War Memorial. I have an especial fondness for -San Francisco, its atmosphere, its spirit, its people, its food. Yet a -curious fact remains: of all the larger American cities, it is coolest -in its outward reception of all forms of art. Even with Sadler’s Wells, -San Francisco followed its formal pattern. It was the more startling in -contrast with its sister city in the south. The demonstrations there -were such that they had to be cut off in order to permit the -performances to continue and thus end before the small hours; the Los -Angeles audiences seemed determined not to let the company go. By -contrast, the San Francisco audiences were perfunctorily polite in their -applause. I have never been able quite to understand it.</p> - -<p>In the case of the Sadler’s Wells <i>première</i> at the War Memorial Opera -House, San Francisco, the company was enchanted with the building: a -real opera house, a good stage, a place in which to work in comfort. The -opening night audience had been attracted not only by interest in the -company, but as charity contributors to a home for unmarried mothers. -The bulk of the stalls and boxes were socially minded. They arrived -late, from dinners and parties. <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> must start at the -advertised time because of its length. It cannot wait for late-comers. -There was an unconscionable confusion in the darkened opera house as the -audience rattled down the aisles, chattering, greeting friends, and -shattering the spell of the Prologue, disturbing those who had taken the -trouble to arrive on time as much as they did the artists on the stage. -My concern on this point is as much for the audience as for the dancers. -A ballet, being a work of art, is conceived as an entity, from beginning -to end, from the first notes of the overture, till the last one of the -coda. The whole is the sum of its parts. The noisy and inconsiderate -late-comers, by destroying parts, greatly damage the whole.</p> - -<p>The War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco, although a municipal -property, has a divided executive in that its physical control is in the -hands of the local chapter of the American Legion, which make the rules -and regulations for its operation. I do not know of any theatre with -more locked doors, more red tape and more annoying, hampering -regulations.</p> - -<p>There is, to be sure, a certain positive virtue in the rule that forbids -any unauthorized person to be permitted to pass from the auditorium to -the stage by ways of the pass-door between the two.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_251">{251}</a></span> But, like any rule, -it must be administered with discretion. The keeper of the pass-door at -the War Memorial Opera House is a gentleman known as the “Colonel,” to -whom, I feel, “orders is orders,” without the leavening of either -discretion or plain “horse sense.”</p> - -<p>On the opening night of Sadler’s Wells, a list of names of the persons -authorized to pass had been given to this functionary by checking the -names on the theatre programme. When Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E., D. -Litt., Director of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, attempted to go back stage -after the first act of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, she was stopped at the -pass-door by the guardian “Colonel.”</p> - -<p>Very simply she told him, “I am Ninette de Valois.”</p> - -<p>That meant nothing to the “Colonel.”</p> - -<p>“Madame’s” name, he pointed out, was not checked off. It was not even -printed on the “official” staff. In another part of the programme, there -it was in small type. But the “Colonel” was adamant. Horatio at the -bridge could not have been more formidable. He was a composite of St. -Peter at the gate and St. Michael with his flaming sword.</p> - -<p>While all this was going on, I was in the imposing, marble-sheathed -front lobby of the Opera House, in conversation with critics and San -Francisco friends, sharing their enthusiasm, when I suddenly felt my -coat tails being sharply pulled. The first tug I was sure was some -mistake, and I pretended not to notice it. Then my coat tails were -tugged at again, unmistakably yanked.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” I thought. “<i>Who</i> is it?”</p> - -<p>I turned quickly, and found a tense, white-faced “Madame” looking at me, -as she might transfix either a dancer who had fallen on his face, or a -Cabinet Minister with whom she had taken issue.</p> - -<p>“What’s wrong?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“The man,” she said, pointing in the direction of the pass-door, -“wouldn’t let me through.” Crisply she added, “He didn’t know who I was. -This is disgraceful, absolutely disgraceful. Unforgivable, I <i>must</i> -say.”</p> - -<p>She turned quickly on her heel and disappeared.</p> - -<p>I was greatly upset, and immediately took steps to have the oversight -corrected. I was miserable.</p> - -<p>I sent for “Bertie” Hughes, the able general manager of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet company, told him what had happened, explained how -distressed I was over the stupid incident.</p> - -<p>Hughes smiled his quiet smile.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_252">{252}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Come on, have a drink and forget it,” he said. “<span class="lftspc">‘</span>Madame’ will have -forgotten all about it within five minutes of watching the performance.”</p> - -<p>As we sipped our drink, I was filled with mortification that “Madame,” -of all people, should have run afoul of a too literal interpreter of the -regulations.</p> - -<p>“Look here,” said Hughes, “cheer up, don’t be disturbed.”</p> - -<p>But the evening had been spoiled for me.</p> - -<p>A really splendid party followed, given by H. M. Consul General in honor -of the company, at San Francisco’s Bohemian Club. The Bohemian Club is -one of San Francisco’s genuine landmarks, a famous organization of -artists, writers, professional and business men, whose “High Jinks” and -“Low Jinks” in midsummer are among the cultural highlights of the area.</p> - -<p>Dispirited, I went only from a sense of duty. It turned out to be one of -the fine parties of the entire tour; but I was fatigued, distraught, and -the de Valois contretemps still oppressed me. I helped myself to some -food, and hid away in a corner. I was, to put it bluntly, in a vile -mood.</p> - -<p>Again I felt my coat tails being tugged. “Who is it this time?” I -thought. It was not my favorite manner of being greeted, I decided, -there and then.</p> - -<p>Cautiously I turned. Again it was “Madame.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the trouble?” she asked, now all solicitude. “Why are you hiding -in a corner? You don’t look well. Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t need a doctor.”</p> - -<p>“Surely, something is wrong with you. You look pale, and it’s not the -very least bit like you to be off sulking in a corner. What’s the -trouble?”</p> - -<p>“The insult to you,” I said.</p> - -<p>I remembered what Hughes had said, when “Madame” replied: “Insult? -Insult?... What insult? Did you insult me?... What on earth <i>are</i> you -talking about?”</p> - -<p>There was no point, I felt, in reminding her of the incident.</p> - -<p>“When you want to speak to me,” I said, “must you pull my coat off my -back?”</p> - -<p>“The next time I shall do it harder,” she said with her very individual -little laugh. “Don’t you think we have been here long enough?... Come -along now, take us home.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_253">{253}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>This is Ninette de Valois.</p> - -<p class="castt">* * *</p> - -<p>Following the San Francisco engagement, the company turned east to the -Rocky Mountain area, the South and Middle West, to arrive in Chicago for -Christmas.</p> - -<p>The Chicago engagement was but a repetition of every city where the -company appeared: sold-out houses, almost incredible enthusiasm. <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i> was the opening programme. Because of the magnitude of -the production, it was impossible to present it except in New York, Los -Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, and Boston. Both public and press were -loud in their praises of the company, the production, the music.</p> - -<p>Another delightful piece of hospitality was the party given at the -Racquet Club in Chicago, following the first performance by Ruth Page, -the well-known American dancer and choreographer, and her husband, -Thomas Hart Fisher. Not only was there a wonderful champagne supper in -the Club’s Refectory, at which the members of the company were the first -to be served; but this was followed by a cabaret, the climax of which -came when Margot, in a striking Dior gown of green, stepped down to -essay the intricate steps of a new and unknown (to her) South American -ball-room rhythm. She had never before seen or heard of the dance, but -it was a joy to watch the musicality she brought to it.</p> - -<p>It is not my custom to visit artists in the theatre before a -performance, unless there has been some complaint, some annoyance, some -trouble of some sort, something to straighten out. However, on this -opening night in Chicago, I happened to be back stage in the Opera House -on some errand. Since I was so close, I felt I wanted to wish the -artists good-luck for their first Chicago performance, and, passing, -knocked at Margot’s dressing-room door.</p> - -<p>No reply.</p> - -<p>I waited.</p> - -<p>I knocked again.</p> - -<p>No answer.</p> - -<p>Puzzled, I walked away to return ten minutes later.</p> - -<p>I knocked again.</p> - -<p>Again no answer.</p> - -<p>Worried, I opened the door.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you hear me, Margot?” I asked.</p> - -<p>Without glancing up, there came two words, no more. Two words, bitten -off, crisp and sharp:<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_254">{254}</a></span></p> - -<p>“G-e-t   O—u—t!”</p> - -<p>It was utterly unlike her. What had happened? I could not imagine. We -had dined together the night before, together with “Freddy” Ashton, -“Bobby” Helpmann and Moira Shearer. It had been a gay dinner, jolly. -Margot had been her witty, amusing self. She had, I knew, been eagerly -awaiting a letter from Paris, a letter from a particular friend. Perhaps -it had not come. Perhaps it had. Whatever it was, I reasoned, at least -it was not my fault. I was not to blame.</p> - -<p>We met after the performance at the party. I was puzzled.</p> - -<p>“Are you angry at me?” I asked her.</p> - -<p>“I?” She smiled an uncomprehending smile. “Why on earth should I be -angry at you?”</p> - -<p>“You didn’t answer when I knocked at your door several times, and then, -when I spoke, you told me, in no uncertain fashion, to get out.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you know that, before a performance, I won’t talk to anyone?” she -said sternly.</p> - -<p>Then she kissed me.</p> - -<p>“Don’t take me too seriously,” she smiled, patting me on the shoulder, -“but, remember, I don’t want to see <i>anyone</i> before I go on.”</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>MARGOT FONTEYN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>In Margot Fonteyn we have, in my opinion, the greatest <i>ballerina</i> of -the western world, the greatest <i>ballerina</i> of the world of ballet as we -know it. Born Margaret Hookham, in Surrey, in 1919, the daughter of an -English businessman father and a dark-skinned, dark-haired mother of -Irish and Brazilian ancestry, who is sometimes known as the Black Queen -in the company, a reference to one of the leading characters in -<i>Checkmate</i>. Margot was taken to China as a small child, where the -family home was in Shanghai. There was also an interim period when she -was a pupil in a school in such a characteristically American city as -Louisville, Kentucky.</p> - -<p>Margot tells a story to the effect that she was taken as a child to see -a performance by Pavlova, and that she was not particularly impressed. -It would be much better “copy,” infinitely better for publicity -purposes, to have her say that visit changed the whole course of her -life and that, from that moment, she determined not only to be a dancer, -but to become Pavlova’s successor. But Margot Fonteyn is an honest -person.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_255">{255}</a></span></p> - -<p>Her first dancing lessons came in Shanghai, at the hands of the Russian -dancer and teacher, Goncharov. Back in London, she studied with -Seraphina Astafieva, in the same Chelsea studio that had produced -Markova and Dolin. At the age of fourteen, her mother took her, -apparently not with too much willingness on Margot’s part, up to the -Wells in Islington, to the Sadler’s Wells School. Ninette de Valois is -said to have announced after her first class, in the decisive manner of -“Madame,” a manner which brooks no dissent: “That child has talent.”</p> - -<p>Fonteyn, in the early days, harbored no ideas of becoming a <i>ballerina</i>. -Her idealization of that remote peak of accomplishment was Karsavina, -the one-time bright, shining star of the Diaghileff Ballet. All of which -is not to say that Margot did not work hard, did not enjoy dancing. In -class, in rehearsal, in performance, Fonteyn developed her own -individuality, her own personality, without copying or imitating, -consciously or unconsciously, any other artist.</p> - -<p>It was after Markova left Sadler’s Wells to form her own company in -association with Dolin that Fonteyn began to come into her own. Ninette -de Valois had a plan, to which, like all her plans, she adhered. She had -been grooming Fonteyn to take Markova’s place. The fact that she has -done so is a matter of history, record, and fact. This is not the place -for a catalogue of Fonteyn’s roles, or a list of her individual -triumphs. Margot Fonteyn is very much with us, before us, among us, at -the height of her powers. She speaks for herself. I merely want to give -the reader enough background so that he may know the basic elements -which have gone into the making of Margot Fonteyn, <i>prima ballerina -assoluta</i>.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, I find her appeal to me is two-fold: first as a pure -classical dancer; second as an actress-dancer, by which I mean a dancer -with a fine ability to characterize. This is important, for it implies -few, if any, limitations. Pavlova, as I have pointed out, was free from -limitations in the same way and, I think, to a similar degree. Anna -Pavlova had a wide variety: she was a superb dramatic dancer in -<i>Giselle</i>; she was equally at home in the brittle, glamorous <i>Fairy -Doll</i>; as the light-hearted protagonist of the <i>Rondino</i>; as the -bright-colored flirt of the Tchaikowsky <i>Christmas</i>. Tamara Karsavina -ranged the gamut from <i>Carnaval</i>, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, and <i>Pavillon -d’Armide</i>, on the one hand, to <i>Schéhérazade</i>, <i>Thamar</i>, and the -Miller’s Wife in <i>The Three-Cornered Hat</i>, on the other, doing all with -equal skill and artistry. In the same way, Fonteyn ranges, with equal<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_256">{256}</a></span> -perfection from the Princess Aurora of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, the title -role of <i>Cinderella</i>, and <i>Mam’zelle Angot</i>, the Millers wife in <i>The -Three-Cornered Hat</i>, the tragic Giselle, Swanilda in <i>Coppélia</i>, the -peasant Dulcinia in <i>Don Quixote</i>, on the one hand, to the pure, -abstract dancing appeal of her lyrical roles in ballets such as -<i>Symphonic Variations</i>, <i>Scènes de Ballet</i>, <i>Ballet Imperial</i>, and -<i>Dante Sonata</i>, on the other.</p> - -<p>As a dancer, Fonteyn is freer of mannerisms than any other <i>ballerina</i> I -have known, devoid of tricks and those stunts sometimes called -“showmanship” that are so often mere vulgar lapses from taste. About -everything she does there is a strange combination of purity of style -with a striking individuality that I can only identify and explain by -that overworked term, “personality.” She has a superb carriage, the taut -back of the perfect dancer, the faultless line and the ankles of the -true <i>ballerina</i>. Over all is a great suppleness: the sort of suppleness -that can make even an unexpected fall a thing of beauty. For -<i>ballerinas</i> sometimes fall, even as ordinary mortals. One such fall -occurred on Fonteyn’s first entrance in the nation’s capital, before a -gala audience at the Washington <i>première</i> of Sadler’s Wells, with an -audience that included President Truman, Sir Oliver Franks, and the -entire diplomatic corps.</p> - -<p>The cramped, ill-suited platform of Constitution Hall, was an -inadequate, makeshift excuse for a stage. As Fonteyn entered to the -resounding applause of thousands, she slipped on a loose board and fell, -but gracefully and with such beauty that those in the audience who did -not know might easily have thought it was a part of the choreographer’s -design.</p> - -<p>On the company’s return to London, at the close of the tour, the entire -personnel were the guests at a formal dinner tendered to them by H. M. -Government. The late Sir Stafford Cripps, then Chancellor of the -Exchequer, gave the first toast to Fonteyn. Turning to her, Sir -Stafford, in proposing the toast, said: “My dear lady, it has been -brought to my attention that, in making your first entry into the -American capital, you fell flat on your face.”</p> - -<p>The Chancellor paused for an instant as he eyed her in mock severity, -then added: “I beg you not to take it too much to heart. It is not the -first time, nor, I feel sure, will it be the last, when your countrymen -will be obliged to assume that same prostrate position on entering that -city.”</p> - -<p>To sum up my impressions of Fonteyn, the dancer, I should be</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_027" style="width: 484px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_01a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_01a.jpg" width="484" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Angus McBean</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Frederick Ashton, Ninette de Valois, Leonide -Massine</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_028" style="width: 449px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_01b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_01b.jpg" width="449" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Beryl Grey as the Princess -Aurora</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_029" style="width: 360px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_02a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_02a.jpg" width="360" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Nadia Nerina in <i>Façade</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_030" style="width: 341px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_02b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_02b.jpg" width="341" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Roland Petit</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Germaine Kanova</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_031" style="width: 416px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_03.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_03.jpg" width="416" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Roger Wood</i></p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Margot Fonteyn and Alexander Grant in -<i>Tiresias</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_032" style="width: 407px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_04.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_04.jpg" width="407" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Magnum</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: John Field and Violetta Elvin</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_033" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_05a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_05a.jpg" width="550" height="368" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i>—John Field and Beryl Grey</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_034" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_05b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_05b.jpg" width="550" height="376" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Last Act of <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i></p> -<p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_035" style="width: 416px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_06.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_06.jpg" width="416" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Magnum</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Giselle</i>—Robert Helpmann and Margot Fonteyn</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_036" style="width: 362px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_07a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_07a.jpg" width="362" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baron</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: Elaine Fifield as Swanilda in <i>Coppélia</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_037" style="width: 436px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_07b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_07b.jpg" width="436" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet: David Blair and Svetlana -Beriosova in <i>Coppélia</i></p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Roger Wood</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_038" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_08a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_08a.jpg" width="550" height="382" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baron</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>A Wedding Bouquet</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_039" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_08b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_08b.jpg" width="550" height="368" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Act I. <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>—The -Princess falls beneath the spell of Carabosse</p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baron</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_040" style="width: 414px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_09.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_09.jpg" width="414" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Agnes de Mille</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_041" style="width: 497px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_10a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_10a.jpg" width="497" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>John Lanchbery, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet</p> -<p class="cpt"><i>Denis de Marney</i></p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_042" style="width: 428px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_10b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_10b.jpg" width="428" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>John Hollingsworth, Conductor, Sadler’s Wells Ballet</p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Maurice Seymour</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_043" style="width: 485px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_10c.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_10c.jpg" width="485" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Robert Irving, Musical Director, Sadler’s Wells Ballet</p> -<p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_044" style="width: 382px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_11a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_11a.jpg" width="382" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>The Sadler’s Wells production of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>: -Puss-in-Boots</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_045" style="width: 418px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_11b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_11b.jpg" width="418" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Robert Helpmann as the Rake in <i>The Rake’s Progress</i></p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baron</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_046" style="width: 370px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_12a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_12a.jpg" width="370" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Rowena Jackson as Odile in <i>Le Lac -des Cygnes</i></p> -<p class="cpt"><i>Derek Allen</i> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_047" style="width: 532px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_12b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_12b.jpg" width="532" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Colette Marchand</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Lido</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_048" style="width: 342px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_13a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_13a.jpg" width="342" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Baron</i></p> - -<p>Moira Shearer</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_049" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_13b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_13b.jpg" width="550" height="423" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Moira Shearer and Daughter</p> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Central Press Photo</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_050" style="width: 492px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_14a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_14a.jpg" width="492" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="cpt"> -<i>Baron</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: <i>Symphonic Variations</i>—Moira Shearer, Margot -Fonteyn, Michael Somes, Pamela May</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_051" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_14b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_14b.jpg" width="550" height="343" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_052" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_15a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_15a.jpg" width="550" height="375" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: America is closer: loading at Port -of London</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_053" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_15b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_15b.jpg" width="550" height="367" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Sadler’s Wells Ballet: Scenery and costumes start the -trek for America</p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Acme-PA</i></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_054" style="width: 393px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_16a.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_16a.jpg" width="393" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p class="cpt"><i>Gyenes</i></p> - -<p>Antonio Spanish Ballet: Antonio</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_055" style="width: 550px;"> -<a href="images/i_256fp_16b.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_256fp_16b.jpg" width="550" height="424" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Antonio Spanish Ballet: <i>Serenada</i></p> - -<p class="cpt"><i>Gyenes</i></p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_257">{257}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">doing her something less than justice if I failed to call attention to a -supreme quality in her work, viz., that quality of implied ease in all -she does, bringing unstrained pleasure to the onlooker; coupled as it is -with a spiritual quality with which her performances seem to shimmer. -All these things, so far as I am concerned, add up to a <i>ballerina</i> -absolutely unique in my experience.</p> - -<p>Margot Fonteyn is, to me, the true artist, because a great dancer must -be a human being before she is an artist; her art must, in the last -resort, be the expression of her personal attitude to life. She is -many-sided; and the wonder is that she is able to have this breadth of -cultural outlook when so much of her time has had to be spent in -acquiring technique, dealing with its problems and the means of -expression.</p> - -<p>No amount of technique, no amount of technical brilliance or recondite -knowledge will hide the paucity of emotion or intellect in an artist’s -make-up. Technique, after all, is no more than the alphabet and the -words of an art, and it is only the difficulty of acquiring a -superlative technique that has led so many astray. But along what a -fatal path they have been led! How often are we told that the true -artist must devote her whole energies to her art, without the -realization that art is the highest expression of mankind and has value -only in so far as it is enriched with the blood of life.</p> - -<p>As for Fonteyn, the person, whom I love and admire, I have no gossip to -offer, few anecdotes, no whisperings. About her there is not the -slightest trace of pose, pretentiousness, or pettiness. While she is -conscious she is a great <i>ballerina</i>, one of the top-ranking artists in -any art in the world today, she is equally conscious she is a human -being. Basically, she is shy and quite humble. Splendidly poised, -immaculately and impeccably groomed, chic in an international rather -than in a Parisian sense, she is definitely an elegant person. The -elegance of her private appearance she carries over into her appearance -as a <i>ballerina</i>. Anna Pavlova, of all other dancers I have known, had -this same quality.</p> - -<p>Usually Margot dresses in colors that are on the dark side, like her own -personal coloring. Small-featured, small-boned, her clothes, exquisite -in cut, are strikingly simple. She is not given to jewelry, save for -earrings without which I cannot remember ever having seen her. She is -remarkably beautiful, but not in the G.I. pin-up type sense. Again there -is the similarity to Anna Pavlova, who would look elegant and <i>chic</i> -today in any <i>salon</i> or drawing-room, because<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_258">{258}</a></span> her elegance was -timeless. By all this, I do not mean to suggest that Fonteyn’s Christian -Dior evening frocks and day dresses are not modish, but nothing she -wears suggests the “latest word.”</p> - -<p>One more word about her actions. I have mentioned her complete lack of -pretentiousness. I should like to emphasize her equal lack of apparent -awareness of her exalted position in her chosen calling. With the -company, she makes no demands, puts on no airs. There is no false -grandeur and none of the so-called “temperament” that many lesser -<i>ballerinas</i> feel called upon to display upon the slightest provocation, -and often upon no provocation at all. She is one who submits to the -discipline of a great and continuous and uninterrupted and secure -company. Fonteyn works as hard, with daily classes and rehearsals, -mayhap harder, as any other of the large personnel. Her relations with -the company are on the same plane. When the company travels in buses, -Margot piles into the buses with them, joins in with the company at all -times, is a member of it and an inspiration to it. The company, -individually and collectively, love her and have the highest respect for -her.</p> - -<p>Margot’s warning to me not to try to disturb her before a performance -had nothing to do with pose or “temperament.” It is simply that in order -to live up to her reputation she has a duty, exactly as she has a duty -to the role she is to enact, and because of these things, she has the -artist’s natural nervousness increased before the rise of the curtain. -She must be alone and silent with her thoughts in order to have herself -under complete control and be at her best.</p> - -<p>In all ballet I have never known a finer colleague, or one possessed of -a greater amount of genuine good-heartedness. The examples of this sort -of thing are endless, but one incident pointing it up stands out in my -mind.</p> - -<p>A certain American <i>ballerina</i> was on a visit to London. Margot invited -this American girl to go to Paris with her. “Freddy” Ashton was also -coming along, she said, and it would be fun.</p> - -<p>“I can’t go,” replied the American <i>ballerina</i>. “I’ve nothing to wear -that’s fit to be seen in Paris.”</p> - -<p>“Come, come, don’t be silly,” replied Margot. “Here, take this suit of -mine. I’ve never worn it.”</p> - -<p>And she handed over a new Christian Dior creation.</p> - -<p>Now Margot at that time was by no means too blessed with the world’s -goods, and could not afford a new Dior outfit too often.</p> - -<p>On their arrival in Paris, the group telephoned me at the Meur<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_259">{259}</a></span>ice and -came to see me. Turning to the American <i>ballerina</i>, a long-time friend -of mine, I could not help admiring her appearance.</p> - -<p>“Where <i>did</i> you get that beautiful suit?” I enquired.</p> - -<p>“Margot gave it to me, isn’t she sweet?” she replied, quite simply.</p> - -<p>This is Margot Fonteyn: always ready to share with others; always -thinking of others, least of all, of herself.</p> - -<p>The following incident sums up the Margot Fonteyn I know and love. On -the final night of the second American tour, after the last performance, -I gave a farewell supper for the entire company at the Chateau -Frontenac, in Quebec City. There were speeches, of which more later. -When they were over, a <i>corps de ballet</i> member spontaneously rose to -propose a toast to Margot Fonteyn, on her great personal triumph in -North America. The rounds of applause that followed the toast reminded -me of the opening night at the Metropolitan in New York. That applause -had come from an audience of paying customers, who had just witnessed a -new dancer scoring a triumph in an exciting performance. The applause -that went on for minutes and minutes, came from her own colleagues, many -of whom had grown up with her from the School. My eyes were moist. After -a long time, Fonteyn rose to thank them. In doing so, she reminded them -that a <i>ballerina</i> was only as good as her surroundings and that it was -impossible for a <i>ballerina</i> to exist without the perfect setting, which -they provided.</p> - -<p>Here was a great artist, the greatest living <i>ballerina</i> we of the -western world know, with all her triumphs, all her successes about her, -at the apex of her career; very much of the present, here was the true -artist, the loyal comrade, the humble, grateful human being.</p> - -<p>From Chicago, a long journey to Winnipeg for a four-day engagement to be -filled at the request of the British Council and David Webster, -following a suggestion from H. M. the King. Winnipeg had suffered -shocking damage from floods, and His Majesty had promised Winnipeg a -visit from the Ballet while it was in America as a gala to lift the -spirits of the people.</p> - -<p>Here the company had its first taste of real cold, for the thermometer -dropped to thirty-two degrees below zero. The result was that when it -came time to entrain for the journey half-way across the continent to -Boston, the next point on the itinerary, the baggage car doors were so -frozen that they had to be opened with blowtorches and charges of -explosives.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_260">{260}</a></span></p> - -<p>It was a four-day and three-night journey from Winnipeg to Boston, in -sub-zero, stormy weather. The intense cold slowed the locomotives and -froze the storage batteries, with the result that save for the -lounge-bar car, the cars were in complete darkness and were dimly -lighted at bed-time by a few spluttering candles. The severe cold had -also caused the steam lines in the train to freeze, so that the -temperature inside the cars was such that all made the journey wrapped -in overcoats and blankets, wearing the heterogeneous collection of -ear-lapped caps which they had purchased, even to North-west Canadian -wool and fur shakos that blossomed in Winnipeg. Somewhere east of -Chicago the “Sadler’s Wells Special” got itself behind the wreck of a -freight train which had blocked the tracks, necessitating a long detour -over the tracks of another railway, causing still further delays. Nine -hours late, the ice-covered train bearing a company that had gone -through the most gruelling train adventure of the tour, limped into -Boston’s South Station.</p> - -<p>There followed a tense period, for the minimum time required to set and -light <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> is twelve hours. It was another case of -“touch and go.” Two hours were required to get the train broken up and -all the scenery cars placed for unloading; then the procession of great -trucks from the cars to the Opera House commenced; there followed the -unloading, the taking-in, the hanging, the setting, the installation of -all the heavy and complicated lighting equipment, for the theatres of -America, for the most part, are either poorly equipped or not at all, -and the Boston Opera House is in the latter category. Hundreds of -costumes had to be unpacked, pressed, and distributed. But such is the -efficiency of the Sadler’s Wells organization, its general stage -director, the late Louis Yudkin, and our own American staff, together -with the valued assistance of the Boston local manager, Aaron Richmond, -that the curtain rose at the appointed minute.</p> - -<p>I had gone to Boston for the duration of the engagement there. Bearing -in mind the extensive travelling the company had had, climaxed by the -harrowing journey from Winnipeg, I was concerned about their fatigue and -also how it might affect the quality of the performance. My memory of -the Boston <i>première</i> of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> is that it was one of the -very best I had seen anywhere. Sir Oliver Franks, the British -Ambassador, and Lady Franks, together with Lord Wakehurst, head of the -English-Speaking Union, one of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_261">{261}</a></span> the Governors of the Covent Garden Opera -Trust, and now Governor-General of Northern Ireland, came to Boston for -the opening, and greeted the company at a delightful supper and -reception following the performance. Lord Wakehurst has been a veritable -tower of strength in the development of international cultural relations -during the Sadler’s Wells tours; together with Lady Wakehurst, he is a -charming host whose hospitality I have enjoyed in their London home.</p> - -<p>The interest of Sir Oliver Franks, Lord Wakehurst, and the British -Council as evidenced throughout the entire tour, together with the -splendid cooperation of the English-Speaking Union, all helped in one of -the main reasons for the tour, quite apart from any dollars the company -might be able to garner. That was the extension of cultural relations -between the two great English-speaking nations.</p> - -<p>Cultural relations are basically a matter of links between individuals -rather than links between governments, and such a tour as Sadler’s Wells -made, bringing the richness of British ballet to hundreds of thousands -of individuals, helps develop those private relationships; and the sum -of them presents a comprehensive picture of Britain to the world. In our -struggle for peace in the world, nothing is more essential than cultural -understanding. It should be pointed out that the British Council does -not send overseas companies primarily for financial gain, and its policy -in these matters is not dictated by financial considerations.</p> - -<p>The charter of UNESCO states that since wars begin in the minds of men, -it is in the minds of men that the defenses of peace must be -constructed. Personally, I am inclined to doubt if wars ever begin in -the minds of men, but I should be the last to dispute that it is in the -minds of men that the defenses of peace must be constructed.</p> - -<p>It was on the 28th January, 1951, that the greatest ballet tour in North -American history came to an end in Quebec City. It was a night of mixed -feelings. The company was, of course, eager to get home to London, and -also had a longing to continue here. There were the tugs of parting on -the part of our American staff. Our American Sadler’s Wells Orchestra, -forty-odd strong, the largest orchestra to tour with a ballet company in -America, adored the company and the curtain had to be held on the last -ballet on the programme, for the entire orchestra lined up to collect -autographed photographs of their favorites, and refused to heed the -orchestra personnel manager’s frantic pleas to enter the pit before each -musi<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_262">{262}</a></span>cian had his treasured picture. It was quite unusual, I assure you, -for musicians are not noted for their interest in a <i>ballerina</i>. A -sentimental, romantic interest between a musician and a dancer is -something quite different, and is not at all unusual.</p> - -<p>Although it was Sunday night, when the “blue laws” of Quebec frown upon -music, gaiety, and alcohol, we managed, nevertheless, to have a genuine -farewell celebration, which took the form of an after-performance dinner -at the Chateau Frontenac. The company got into their evening-clothes for -the last time on this side of the Atlantic, piled into buses at the -theatre and returned to the hotel, while the “Sadler’s Wells Special” -that was to take them back to Montreal, waited at the station. It waited -a long time, for the night’s celebration at the Chateau lasted until -four-thirty in the morning. It was a festive affair, with as fine a -dinner as could be prepared, and the wines and champagne were both -excellent and ample. We had set up a pre-dinner cocktail room in one of -the Chateau’s private rooms, and had taken the main restaurant, the -great hall of the Chateau, for the dinner. Before the dancing -commenced—yes, despite the long tour, despite the two days the company -had spent skiing and tobogganing in Quebec, with three performances in -an inadequate theatre, they danced—the dessert was served. I should -like to list the entire menu, but the dessert will give an indication of -its nature. The lights in the great dining room were extinguished, the -orchestra struck a chord, and a long line of waiters entered each -bearing flaming platters of <i>Omelette Norvegienne Flambée des -Mignardires</i>.</p> - -<p>The guests included the Premier of Quebec and officials of the Quebec -Government. The only note that dimmed the gaiety of the occasion was the -absence of Dame Ninette de Valois and David Webster, both in London -preparing for the new season. It was not an occasion for long speeches; -our hearts and our stomachs were too full. However, I expressed my -sincere thanks to the entire organization and, in the absence of -“Madame” and Webster, Herbert Hughes, the general manager of the Ballet, -replied, and announced to the company the figures for the tour, amidst -cheers. Then followed the touching incident of the toast to Fonteyn I -have mentioned.</p> - -<p>Before the dancing began, a sudden mania for autographs started, with -everybody collecting every other person’s autograph on the large, -specially printed menus, which I had previously autographed. Apparently -all wanted a menu as a souvenir of a venture that had gone down in the -annals of ballet and entertainment as the greatest success of all time.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_263">{263}</a></span></p> - -<p>From then on the dancing was general, the gaiety waxed higher. I was -doing a <i>schottische</i> with the two-hundred-fifty pound Cockney Chief -Carpenter, Horace Fox, when one of my staff who was responsible for -transportation slid up to the orchestra leader and whispered “The King!” -We all stood silently at attention for the last time. It was well past -four in the morning, and it was to be yet another case of “touch and go” -if the “Sadler’s Wells Special” could make Montreal in time for the -departure of the special BOAC planes which were to take the company back -to London.</p> - -<p>The company changed into traveling clothes as quickly as possible, and -buses slithered down the steep slopes of Quebec to the Station, where -harried railroad officials were holding the train. There was yet another -delay for one person who was left behind on urgent business, finally to -be seen coming, with two porters carrying his open bags and yet another -bellboy with unpacked clothes and toilet articles. As the last of the -retinue was pushed aboard, the train started. But it was long before -sleep came, and for another two hours the party continued up and down -the length of the train, in compartments, bedrooms, washrooms, as staff, -orchestra, stage-hands broke all unwritten laws of fraternization.</p> - -<p>All were asleep, however, when the train swayed violently and with -groaning and bumping came to a sudden stop. It was the last journey and -it, of course, simply had to happen. The flanges on the wheels of two of -the baggage cars that had made the 21,000-mile journey gave way just as -the train started the long crossing of the Three Rivers Bridge between -Quebec and Montreal. Fortunately, we were moving slowly at the approach -to the bridge, slowing down for the crossing, or else—I shudder to -think what might have occurred if we had been trying to make up -time—the greatest tour of history would have ended in a ghastly -tragedy.</p> - -<p>As a result of the derailment taking place on the bridge, we were hours -late arriving in Montreal. But the tour was over!</p> - -<p>Here was a tour where every record of every sort had been broken. It had -reached the point where, if there was a pair of unoccupied seats in any -auditorium from coast to coast and back again, we were all likely to -feel as if the end of the world was at hand. I have mentioned the -mundane matter of the financial returns. From a critical point of view, -I cannot attempt to summarize the spate of eulogy that greeted the -company in every city. Cynics may have something to say about this, to -the effect that the critics had been<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_264">{264}</a></span> overpowered by size and glamor. -But a careful consideration of it all, a sober analysis, disproves any -suggestion that this was the result of any uncritical rush of blood to -the head. On the contrary, it reveals that the critical faculty was -carefully exercised and that the collective testimony to the excellence -of Sadler’s Wells was based on sound appreciation.</p> - -<p>It is impossible for me to bring to a close this phase of the concise -history of the association in ballet of which I am the proudest in my -life without sketching an outline of the quartet that makes Sadler’s -Wells the great institution it is, together with a few of the -outstanding personalities that give it color and are such an important -part of it.</p> - -<p>The list is long, and lack of space limits my consideration to a few. -First of all, let me pay tribute to that directorial triumvirate to -whom, collectively and individually, Sadler’s Wells owes its existence -and its superior place in the world of ballet in our time: Ninette de -Valois, Frederick Ashton, and Constant Lambert. Lamentably, the -triumvirate is now a duo, owing to the recent untimely passing of the -third member.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>NINETTE DE VALOIS</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>I have more than once indicated my own deep admiration for Ninette de -Valois and have sketched, as best I can, her tremendous contribution. In -all my experience of artists, I have never known a harder worker, a more -single-purposed practical idealist, a more concentrated and devoted -human being. In addition to being the chief executive of Sadler’s Wells, -burdened with the responsibility for two ballet companies and a school, -she is a striking creator.</p> - -<p>Living with her husband-physician down in Surrey, she does her marketing -before she leaves home in the morning for the Garden; travels up on the -suburban train; spends long hours at her work; goes back to Surrey, -often late at night, sometimes to prepare dinner, since the servant -problem in Britain is acute; and has been known to tidy up her husband’s -surgery for the next morning, before herself calling it a day. All this, -day in and day out, is done with zest and vigor.</p> - -<p>An idealist she is and yet, at the same time, completely realistic. -Without wishing to cast the remotest reflection on the feminine sex, I -would say that Ninette de Valois has a masculine mind in her approach to -problems artistic or business, and to life itself. She feels<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_265">{265}</a></span> things -passionately, and these qualities are apparent in everything she does. -When her mind is made up, there is no budging her. In a less intelligent -person this might be labelled stubbornness.</p> - -<p>Like the majority of English dancers, prior to her establishment of a -British national ballet, she was brought up in the traditions of Russian -ballet. But it should be remembered that she was the first one to break -up the foundation of the Russian tradition, utilizing its richness to -create an English national school. At Sadler’s Wells, in collaboration -with Constant Lambert, she has devoted a great deal of attention to the -music of our time, although this has never taken the form of any denial -or repudiation of the tradition of the old Russian school—on the -contrary, her work at Sadler’s Wells has been a continuation and -development of that school, using the new to enrich the old.</p> - -<p>As a person with whom to work, I find her completely fascinating. I have -never known any one even faintly like her. Her magnificent sense of -organization is but one aspect of what I have called her “masculinity” -of mind. Figures as well as <i>fouettés</i> are a part of her life. She is -adept at handling both situations and individuals. Her dancers obey the -slightest lifting of her eyebrows, for she is a masterful person, -although quite impersonal in her mastery. She possesses the art of the -single withering sentence. Her superb organizing ability has enabled her -to surround herself with a highly able staff; but the sycophantic -“yes-man” is something for which she has no time. Hers is a -rapid-working mind, often being several leaps ahead of all others in a -conference. Sincere, honest criticism she welcomes; anything other, she -detests. I remember an occasion when a certain critic made a comment -based on nothing more than personal bias and a twisted, highly personal -approach. Her response was acid, biting, withering, and I was glad I was -not on the receiving end.</p> - -<p>I am sure that Ninette de Valois was convinced of her mission early in -her career. That mission—to found a truly national British ballet—she -has richly fulfilled. Much of the work involved in this fulfilment has -been the exercise of great organizing and executive ability: in the -formulation of policy and plans as well as carrying them out; in the -employment of a large number of talented and efficient people; in -determining the scale on which the venture should be conducted.</p> - -<p>I have spoken of “Madame’s” ability to handle people. This has earned -her, in some quarters, an undeserved reputation for being a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_266">{266}</a></span> forbidding -and austere person. The fact that she is, as she must be, a strict -disciplinarian with her company, does not mean that she cannot be a -genuinely gay and amusing person. In certain respects, despite her Irish -birth as Edris Stannus, she is a veritable English lady, in the best -sense of the term, with an English lady’s virtues (and they are -numerous). These virtues include, among others, a very definite, -forceful, but quiet efficiency; more than average common sense; a -passion for being fair; the inbred necessity for being economical. -Against all this is set that quality of idealism that turned a dancing -school into a great national ballet. Idealism dreamed it, practicality -brought it to fruition.</p> - -<p>In those far-off days before the second world war, when I used to visit -the ballet in Russia, it was one of my delights to go to the classes of -the late Agrippina Vaganova, one of the greatest of ballet teachers of -all time, and to watch this wise and highly talented ballet-mistress at -work.</p> - -<p>I noted that it was Vaganova’s invariable custom to open her classes -with a two or three minute talk, in which she would compliment the -company, and individuals in particular, on their work in the ballet -performance the night before, closing with:</p> - -<p>“I am proud of you. Thank you very much.”</p> - -<p>Then they would go to work in the class, subjected to the strictest -discipline, and, sometimes, to the sharpest and most caustic sort of -criticism imaginable. Then, at the end of the class, again came -individual approbation and encouragement.</p> - -<p>This is the sort of little thing I have never observed at Sadler’s -Wells. It may, of course, be there; and again, it may not.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells personnel love “Madame”; regard it as a high -privilege to be a part of the Wells organization; do not look on their -association merely as a “job.”</p> - -<p>It might be that “Madame” could advantageously employ Vaganova’s method -in this regard, use her example in her own relations with her company. -Certainly, it could do no harm, as I see it. It may well be that she -does. The point is that I have never seen it in practice.</p> - -<p>In the better part of a lifetime spent in the midst of the dance, I can -remember no one with a greater devotion to ballet, or one willing to -make more sacrifices for it, and for the spreading of its gospel.</p> - -<p>Let me cite just one example of this devotion. It was during<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_267">{267}</a></span> the second -North American tour of the Sadler’s Wells company that, despite all the -demands made upon her time and energy, she was impelled to undertake a -long lecture tour of Canada and the Northwest to spread the gospel of -ballet and the British Council.</p> - -<p>Herbert Hughes, the general manager, came to me to point out that since -“Madame” had to do this, he felt we should send some one to accompany -her, because she was unfamiliar with the country, and with the train and -air schedules.</p> - -<p>I fully concurred, in view of all he had said, and the possibility of -inclement weather at that time of the year.</p> - -<p>Together we approached “Madame” with the idea. It did not meet with her -approval. It was quite unnecessary. She was quite able to take care of -herself. She did not want any one “making a fuss” over her.</p> - -<p>Of course, she would require funds for her expenses. Hughes prevailed -upon her to accept $300 as petty cash. “Madame” stuffed the money into -her capacious reticule.</p> - -<p>When “Madame” rejoined the company, she brought back $137 of the $300. -“This is the balance,” she said to Hughes, “I didn’t spend it.”</p> - -<p>This entire lecture tour, in which she covered thousands of miles, was -but another example of her tirelessness and Ninette de Valois’ -single-track mind.</p> - -<p>She was due to rejoin the company at the Ambassador Hotel, in Los -Angeles, on the morning of the Los Angeles <i>première</i> of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet, at which time we had arranged a large breakfast -press-conference, over which “Madame” was to preside.</p> - -<p>“Madame” was due by airplane from Vancouver early the previous evening. -Hughes suggested that he should go to the airport to greet her, or that -some one should be sent; but I vetoed the idea, remembering that -“Madame” did not want a “fuss” made over her. Although the plane was due -round about nine o’clock in the evening, midnight had produced no -“Madame.” A telephonic check with the Terminal assured us the plane had -arrived safely and on time. Hughes and I sat up until three-thirty in -the morning waiting, but in vain.</p> - -<p>I was greatly disturbed and exercised when, at nine the next morning, -she had not put in an appearance. The press-conference was set for ten -o’clock, and “Madame” was its most important feature. Moreover, I was -concerned for her safety.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_268">{268}</a></span></p> - -<p>A few minutes before the start of the breakfast conference, unperturbed, -unruffled, neat and calm as always, “Madame” entered the Ambassador -foyer with her customary spirit and swift, sure gait.</p> - -<p>We gathered round her. What had happened? Was she all right? Had -anything gone wrong?</p> - -<p>“Don’t be silly. What <i>could</i> go wrong?”</p> - -<p>But what had happened? We pressed for an explanation.</p> - -<p>“The strangest thing, my dears,” she said. “When I arrived last night, I -looked in my bag for the piece of paper on which I had noted the name of -this hotel. I couldn’t find it; nor could I, for the life of me, -remember it.”</p> - -<p>“What did you do?”</p> - -<p>“Do? I went to sleep at the airport.”</p> - -<p>“And—?”</p> - -<p>“And this morning I said to myself, ‘Come, pull yourself together.’ I -tried an old law of association of ideas. I managed to remember the name -of this hotel had something to do with diplomacy. -‘Diplomacy—Diplomacy,’ I said to myself.... ‘Embassy?... No, that’s not -it.’ I tried again.... ‘Ambassador?’ ... There, you have it. And here I -am.... Let us go, or we shall be late. Where is this press conference?”</p> - -<p>That is Ninette de Valois.</p> - -<p>Ninette de Valois’ work as a choreographer speaks for itself. Her -approach to any work is always professional, always intellectual, never -amateur, never sentimental. Some of her works may be more successful -than others, whether they are academic or highly original, but each -bears the imprint of one of the most distinctive, able, and agile minds -in the history of ballet.</p> - -<p>So far as I have been able to observe, Ninette de Valois <i>is</i> Sadler’s -Wells. Sadler’s Wells <i>is</i> the national ballet of Britain. In looking -objectively at the organization, with its two fine companies, its -splendid school, I pray that Ninette de Valois may long be spared, for, -with all its splendid organization, Sadler’s Wells and British national -ballet are synonyms, and unless the dear lady has someone up her sleeve, -I cannot, for the life of me, see a successor in the offing.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>FREDERICK ASHTON</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Frederick Ashton, the chief choreographer of the company, is the -complete antithesis of his colleague. Where de Valois is realistic,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_269">{269}</a></span> -“Freddy” is sentimental. Where “Madame” may sometimes be rigid, Ashton -is adaptable. Some of his work is “slick” and smooth. He is a romantic, -but by that I do not necessarily mean a “neo-romantic.”</p> - -<p>Ashton was born in Ecuador, in 1909, which does not make him Ecuadorian, -any more than the fact that he spent his childhood in Peru, makes him -Peruvian. His British parents happened to be living there at the time. -It is said that his interest in dance was first aroused upon seeing Anna -Pavlova dance in far-off Peru.</p> - -<p>Moving to London with his parents, “Freddy” had the privilege of being -exposed to performances of the Diaghileff Company, and he had his first -ballet lessons from Leonide Massine. Massine turned him over to Marie -Rambert when he left London. It was for Rambert that he staged his first -work, <i>The Tragedy of Fashion</i>, for the Nigel Playfair revue, -<i>Hammersmith Nights</i>, in 1926. An interim in Paris with Ida Rubenstein, -Nijinska, and Massine, was followed by a long time with Marie Rambert -and her Ballet Club. The Paris interlude with Nijinska and Massine -affected him profoundly. He was a moving figure in the life of the -Camargo Society, and in 1935 he joined the Vic-Wells (later to be known -as the Sadler’s Wells Ballet), as resident choreographer.</p> - -<p>During the years between, Ashton has become England’s great creator. He -is also a character dancer of wide variety, as witness his Carabosse in -<i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, his shy and wistful Ugly Sister in <i>Cinderella</i>. -His contribution to ballet in England is tremendous. Nigh on to a dozen -ballets for the Ballet Rambert; something between twenty-five and thirty -for the Sadler’s Wells organization; <i>Devil’s Holiday</i> for the Ballet -Russe de Monte Carlo, a work which, because of the outbreak of the war, -he was unable to complete, and which was never seen in this country with -its creator’s full intentions; two works in New York for the New York -City Ballet; and the original production of the Gertrude Stein-Virgil -Thomson <i>Four Saints in Three Acts</i>, in New York.</p> - -<p>It is interesting to note the wide variety of his creative work by -listing some of his many works, which, in addition to those mentioned -above, include, among others, the following: For the Ballet Club of -Marie Rambert: <i>Les Petits Riens</i>, <i>Leda and the Swan</i>, <i>Capriol Suite</i>, -<i>The Lady of Shalott</i>, <i>La Peri</i>, <i>Foyer de Danse</i>, <i>Les Masques</i>, -<i>Mephisto Valse</i>, and several others.</p> - -<p>For that founding society of contemporary British ballet, which I have -mentioned before, the Camargo Society: <i>Pomona</i>, <i>Façade</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_270">{270}</a></span> <i>The Lord of -Burleigh</i>, <i>Rio Grande</i> (originally known as <i>A Day In a Southern -Port</i>), and other works.</p> - -<p>I have already mentioned some of his outstanding works for the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet. Others include <i>Nocturne</i>, to Delius’s <i>Paris</i>; -<i>Apparitions</i>, to a Liszt-Lambert score; <i>Les Rendez-vous</i>, to a -Constant Lambert score based on melodies by Auber, seen in America in -the repertoire of the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet; the delicious <i>A -Wedding Bouquet</i>, to an original score by Lord Berners and a Gertrude -Stein text; <i>Les Patineurs</i>, to melodies by Meyerbeer; Constant -Lambert’s <i>Horoscope</i>; <i>Dante Sonata</i>, to Liszt works arranged by -Lambert; <i>The Wise Virgins</i>, to Bach arranged by Sir William Walton; -<i>The Wanderer</i>, to Schubert; Walton’s <i>The Quest</i>; <i>Les Sirènes</i>, by -Lord Berners; the César Franck <i>Symphonic Variations</i>; the Coronation -ballet of 1953—<i>Homage to the Queen</i>; and, in a sense, most -importantly, the full length <i>Cinderella</i>, utilizing the Prokofieff -score; and the full length production of Delibes’ <i>Sylvia</i>.</p> - -<p>Actually, I like to think of Ashton as a dance-composer, moving freely -with dramatic or symbolic characters.</p> - -<p>In all my experience of ballet and of choreographers, I do not believe -there is any one more conscientious, more hard-working, more painstaking -at rehearsals. While his eye misses nothing, he never raises his voice, -never loses his temper. Corrections are made firmly, but quietly, almost -in seeming confidence. Always he has a good word for something well -done. On occasion, I have noticed something to be adjusted and have -mentioned it to him.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, I know,” he would say.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you going to tell them?”</p> - -<p>“You tell them,” Ashton would smile. “I can’t tell them. Go on, you tell -them.”</p> - -<p>This was in connection with a musical matter. The conductor in question -was taking a portion of the work at a too rapid tempo. It involved -“Freddy” telling the conductor the passage was being played too fast.</p> - -<p>“No,” repeated “Freddy,” “it will work out. He will see it and feel it -for himself. I don’t want to upset him.”</p> - -<p>An extraordinarily conscientious worker, he is equally self-deprecating. -Some of this self-deprecation can be found in his work, for there is -almost always a high degree of subtlety about all of it. Among all the -choreographers I know, there is none his superior or his equal in -designing sheer poetry of movement. Ashton is able, in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_271">{271}</a></span> my opinion, to -bring to ballet some of that quality of enchantment that, in the old -days, we found only with the Russians.</p> - -<p>This self-deprecating quality of “Freddy’s” is at its strongest on -opening nights of his works. It is very real and sincere.</p> - -<p>“Everything I do is always a flop here in England, you know,” he will -say. “They don’t like me.... I’ve done the best I can.... There you -are.”</p> - -<p>Despite this self-deprecation, Ashton, once his imagination is stirred, -his inspiration stimulated, throws off a certain indolence that is one -of his characteristics, knows exactly what he wants, how to get it, and -goes about it. Like all creative artists, during the actual period of -creation, he can be alternately confident and despairing, determined and -resigned. Despite the reluctance to exercise his authority, he can, if -occasion demands, put his foot down firmly, and does.</p> - -<p>Yet, in doing so, I am certain that never in his life has he hurt any -one, for “Freddy” Ashton is essentially a kind person.</p> - -<p>Three British <i>ballerinas</i> owe Ashton an immense debt: Margot Fonteyn, -Moira Shearer, and Alicia Markova. It is due in large measure to -Ashton’s tuition, his help, his sound advice, and his plastic sense that -these fine artists have matured.</p> - -<p>Every choreographer worthy of the name stamps his works with his own -personality. Ashton’s signature is always apparent in his work. No -matter how characteristic of him his works may be choreographically, -they are equally dissimilar and varied in mood.</p> - -<p>One of my great pleasures is to watch him at rehearsal, giving, giving, -giving of himself to dancers. Before the curtain rises, that final -expectant moment before the screen between dancer and audience is -withdrawn, Ashton is always on the stage, moving from dancer to dancer: -“Cheer up”.... “Back straight, duckie”.... “Present yourself”.... “Chin -up, always chin up, darling.” ...</p> - -<p>Personally, “Freddy” is an unending delight. Shy, shy, always shy, shy -like the shy sister he plays in <i>Cinderella</i>, he is always the good -colleague, evincing the same painstaking interest in the ballets of -others as he does in his own, something which I assure the reader is -rare. I have yet to see “Freddy” ruffled, yet to see him outwardly -upset. In his personal appearance he is always neat, carefully dressed. -Even in the midst of hectic dress-rehearsals and their attendant -excitements and alarums, I have never seen him anything but cool, neat, -and well-groomed. There is never a fantastic “rehearsal costume” with -“Freddy.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_272">{272}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>The picture of “Freddy” that is uppermost in my mind is of him standing -in the “Crush Bar” at Covent Garden, relaxed, at ease, listening more -than talking, laughing in his self-deprecatory way, always alert, always -amusing.</p> - -<p>Ashton lives in London in a house in a little street quaintly called -Yeoman’s Row, on the edge of Knightsbridge and Kensington. Here he often -does his own cooking and here he works out his ideas. It is a tiny -house, the work-center being a second-floor study, crowded with -gramophone records, books, photographs and statuettes, all of which -nearly obscure the red wall-paper. The statuettes are three in number: -Anna Pavlova, Fanny Ellsler, and Marie Taglioni. The photographs range -from good Queen Alexandra, through bull-fighters, to dancers.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells hierarchy seems to travel in groups. One such group -that seemed inseparable included Ashton, “Bobby” Helpmann, Margot -Fonteyn, and Pamela May. Occasionally Constant Lambert would join in, to -eat, to drink, to have fun. For “Freddy” is by no means averse to the -good things of life.</p> - -<p>“Freddy” Ashton is another of those figures of the dance who should -never regard the calendar as a measure for determining his age. I -believe the youthful spirit of Ashton is such that he will live to be a -hundred-and-fifty; that, in 2075, he will be the last survivor of the -founding of Sadler’s Wells, and will then be the recipient of a grand -gala benefit at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, where, that night, -he will share the Royal Box with the then reigning monarch.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>CONSTANT LAMBERT</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>It is difficult for me to write without emotion of the third of the -trio, Constant Lambert, whose loss is deeply mourned by all who knew -him, and by many who did not.</p> - -<p>A picturesque figure, Lambert was a great conductor, a great musician, a -composer of superior talents, a critic of perception, a writer of -brilliance and incisiveness, a life-long student of the ballet. -Lambert’s contribution to the making of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet has, I -suspect, been given less credit than it deserves. I have said that, in -my three decades-and-more of ballet management, I have never known a -ballet company with such high musical standards. These standards were -imposed by Constant Lambert. Not only did<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_273">{273}</a></span> he compose ballets for the -company, but when music of other composers was used, it was Lambert who -provided the strikingly brilliant orchestral arrangements—witness, as a -few examples: <i>Les Patineurs</i>, <i>Dante Sonata</i>, <i>The Faery Queen</i>, -<i>Comus</i>, <i>Apparitions</i>, <i>Les Rendez-vous</i>, <i>Balabile</i>, in which he made -alive for ballet purposes the assorted music of Meyerbeer, Liszt, -Purcell, Auber, Chabrier, respectively.</p> - -<p>Born in London, in 1905, the son of a painter, brother of a well-known -sculptor, he spent a substantial part of his childhood in Russia, where -his grandfather supplied the Trans-Siberian Railway with its -locomotives. He was a living proof of the fact that it was possible for -an Englishman to be a musician without being suspected of not being a -gentleman. His was an incisive mind, capable of quick reactions, with a -widely ranging emotional experience.</p> - -<p>With the Camargo Society, Constant Lambert established himself not only -as a conductor, but as the musical mind behind British ballet. However, -it was not an Englishman who discovered him as a composer. That honor -goes to a Russian, Serge Diaghileff, who, when Lambert was bordering on -twenty-one, commissioned him to write a ballet for his company. No other -English composer shared that honor before Diaghileff died, although -Diaghileff did produce, but did not commission, Lord Berners’ <i>The -Triumph of Neptune</i>. And so Lambert stands isolated, with his <i>Romeo and -Juliet</i>, which was first produced at Monte Carlo, in 1926, with Lifar -and Karsavina as the protagonists; and his second ballet, <i>Pomona</i>, -which Bronislava Nijinska staged at the Colon Theatre, Buenos Aires, in -1927.</p> - -<p>Constant Lambert’s English education was at Christ’s Hospital. Early in -his school days he underwent a leg operation that compelled him always -to walk with a stick. All his life he was never entirely free from pain. -At the Royal College of Music he was a pupil of Ralph Vaughan Williams. -Ballet came into his life at an early date, and remained there until his -untimely passing. To it he gave the best years of his life in acting as -a sort of hair-spring to Ninette de Valois’ mainspring in the -development of Sadler’s Wells. On his sound musical foundation Sadler’s -Wells rests.</p> - -<p>It is not within my province to discuss Lambert as a composer; but his -accomplishments and achievements in this field were considerable. It is, -of course, as a musician he will be remembered. But I could not regard -Lambert as a musician pure and simple. He had a wide variety of -interests, not the least of which was painting. Both<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_274">{274}</a></span> painting and -sculpture were in his family, and, from conversations with him I -frequently got the notion that, had his technical accomplishments been -other than they were, he would have preferred to have been a painter to -a musician. Much of his music had a pictorial quality, witness his -ballets, <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, <i>Pomona</i>, <i>Horoscope</i>, and <i>Tiresias</i>; -observe his <i>Piano Concerto</i>, <i>Rio Grande</i> (“By the Rio Grande, they -dance no Sarabande”), <i>Music for the Orchestra</i>, <i>Elegiac Blues</i> (a -tribute to the American Florence Mills), the <i>Merchant Navy Suite</i>, -<i>Summer’s Last Will and Testament</i>, Hogarthian in color and treatment; -and the work I shall always remember him conducting as a musical -interlude in the first season in New York, the <i>Aubade Heroique</i>, the -reproduction in sound of a Dutch landscape, a remembrance of that dawn -in Holland when Lambert, a visiting conductor with Sadler’s Wells, -witnessed the invasion of The Hague by Nazi paratroopers.</p> - -<p>It was as a conductor of Tchaikowsky that I feel he excelled. He was a -masterly Tchaikowsky interpreter. I should have loved to hear him play -the symphonies. I content myself, however, with his <i>Swan Lake</i> and <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, and the realization of how much these two Sadler’s -Wells productions owe to him. Never was the music for an instant dull, -for Lambert always conducted it with a fine ear for contrasts of brisk -with languid, happiness with <i>toska</i>.</p> - -<p>Composer that he was, he devoted a large part of his life to conducting. -His recordings are to be treasured. Conducting to him was not merely a -source of livelihood, but a very definite form of self-expression, an -important part of him. In my experience, I have found that composers -are, as a rule, bad conductors, and conductors bad composers. Two -exceptions I can name. Both British. Lambert was well nigh unique in his -superlative capacity in both directions, as is Benjamin Britten today. -Lambert, I feel, was not only one of the most gifted composers of his -time, but also one of its finest interpretative artists. He had the -unique quality of being able to enter wholeheartedly into the innermost -essence of forms of art diametrically opposed to his own, even -positively unsympathetic to him personally, and giving superlative -performances of them.</p> - -<p>Lambert was no calm liver, no philosophic hermit; a good deal of a -hedonist, he met life considerably more than half way, and went out to -explore life’s possibilities to the fullest. Moreover, he richly -succeeded in doing so. He was a brilliant wit, both in writing and in -conversation. His book, <i>Music, Ho!</i>, remains one of the most<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_275">{275}</a></span> -stimulating books of musical commentary and criticism of our time. He -was the collector and creator of an innumerable number of magnificent -but unprintable limericks, in the creation of which he was a distinct -poet. He had composed a series of fifty on one subject—double bishops, -i.e., bishops having more than one diocese, like Bath and Wells. A -friend of mine who has heard Lambert recite them with that gusto of -which only he was capable, tells me that they are, without doubt, one of -the most brilliant achievements in this popular form.</p> - -<p>Wit is one thing; stout-hearted, robust humor is another. Lambert had -both. There was also a shyness of an odd kind, when a roaring laugh -would give way to a fit of wanting to be by himself, wrapped in -melancholy. His was a delicately poised combination of the introvert and -the extravert, the latter expressing itself in the love of male company -over pots of ale and even headier beverages. He had a keen appreciation -of the good things of life.</p> - -<p>This duality of personality was apparent in his physical make-up. There -was something about his appearance that, in a sense, fitted in with the -conventional portrait of John Bull. A figure of a good deal of masculine -strength, he was big, inclined to be burly; his complexion was pink. He -exhibited in himself a disconcerting blend of the most opposite extremes -imaginable. On the one hand, a certain morbidity; on the other, a bluff -and hearty roast-beef-and-Yorkshire Britishness. I have said that he -resembled, physically, the typical drawing of John Bull. As a matter of -fact, he bore an uncanny physical resemblance to Winston Churchill, and -had elements in common with G. K. Chesterton. And a Hollywood casting -director might have engaged him to play the role of the Emperor Nero, on -strict type casting. He had an alert face on which humor often played -good tunes, but on which, now and then, there used to settle a kind of -stern gloom, not to be dispersed by any insensitive back-slapping.</p> - -<p>He was as much at home in France as he was in England. His late -adolescence and early manhood were spent in the hectic, feverish, -restless ’twenties, with the Diaghileff Ballet and the French school of -musical composition as the preponderant influences. As he grew older, -his Englishness, if I may call it that, grew as well. The amazing thing -to me was his ability to maintain such an even balance between the two.</p> - -<p>Lambert had a passion for enigmas. He adored cats, and had a strange -attraction to aquariums, zoos, and their fascinatingly enig<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_276">{276}</a></span>matic -inhabitants. He was President of the Kensington Kittens’ and Neuter -Cats’ Club, Incorporated. An important club, a club with a President who -knew quite a lot about cats. There is a story to the effect that there -was once a most handsome cat at London’s Albert Hall who was a close -friend of Lambert’s, a cat called Tiddleywinks, a discriminating cat, -and a cat with a certain amount of musical taste. Lambert, the -President, would never proceed with the job he had to do at the Albert -Hall without a preliminary chat with Tiddleywinks. And all would be -well.</p> - -<p>Constant Lambert was working on, among other things, an autobiography, -concerning which he one day inquired about completely inaccessible -places left in our shrinking world, particularly since the last war and -James Norman Hall have pretty well exposed the South Pacific islands. -What he actually wanted to know was an inaccessible place to which to -hie after its publication, “because,” he said, “I’m telling the truth -about everyone I know, including myself, and I shall have to flee the -wrath of my ‘friends,’ and find a safe place where the laws of libel -cannot reach me. You know, in my country at least, ‘the greater the -truth, the greater the libel.’<span class="lftspc">”</span></p> - -<p>There was an infinite variety in his “drive.” He conducted ballet at -Covent Garden; radio concerts at the British Broadcasting Corporation; -symphony concerts, with special emphasis on Liszt and Sibelius, with the -London Philharmonic Orchestra; made magnificent, definitive recordings; -recited the Sitwell poems in <i>Façade</i> at every opportunity; composed -fresh, vital works; made striking musical arrangements. He was at once -composer, conductor, critic, journalist, an authority on railroad -systems, trains, and locomotives, a student of the atom bomb, and a -talker. There are those who insist he was not easy to get to know. It -could be. He was, as I have said, shy. He was a highly concentrated -individual, living a lot on his nerves. Despite this, to those who knew -him, he was the friendliest of good companions, a perpetual stimulus to -those who delighted in knowing him.</p> - -<p>One had to be prepared, to be sure, to discover, in the middle of one of -one’s own sentences (and, frequently, one of his own) that he was—gone. -He would tilt his chin in the air, stare suddenly into far distant -spaces, turn on his heel with the help of his stick, as swiftly as a -ballet-dancer in a <i>pirouette</i>, and silently vanish. He was a good -listener—if one had anything to say. He did not suffer fools gladly, -and to bores—that increasing affliction of our times—he presented an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_277">{277}</a></span> -inflexible deafness akin to the switching-off of a hearing-aid, and a -truly magnificent cast-iron rigidity of inattention. The bore fled. So -did Lambert.</p> - -<p>I have given some indication of the width of his interests. It was -amazing. His gusto for life was unquenchable, and with it was a wise, -shrewd appraisement of the human comedy—and tragedy. He was able to get -through an enormous amount of work without ever seeming to do anything. -Best of all, perhaps, he was able to enjoy a joke against himself. In -this world of the arts and artists, where morbid egotisms and too -exposed nerves victimize and vitiate the artist, it was a boon to him -and an extraordinarily attractive characteristic.</p> - -<p>Above all, he had an undying belief in British Ballet.</p> - -<p>The last performance I saw Lambert conduct was the first performance of -his last ballet, <i>Tiresias</i>, which was the occasion of a Gala in aid of -the Ballet Benevolent Fund in the presence of H.M. the Queen and -Princess Elizabeth, on the 9th July, 1951. <i>Tiresias</i> was a work on -which Lambert had gone back to his collaboration with Frederick Ashton. -The story he had made himself; it was a sort of composite of the myths -about Tiresias; reduced to as much of a capsule as I can, it deals with -the duality of Tiresias—as man and woman—and how he was struck blind -by Hera, when Tiresias proves her wrong when she argues with Zeus that -man’s lot is happier than woman’s. It was, this ballet, a sort of family -affair in a sense; for Lambert’s wife, Isabel, designed scenery and -costumes, setting the three-scened work on the Island of Crete.</p> - -<p>After the first performance, we met at a large party to which I had gone -with David Webster. Lambert and his wife, along with Ninette de Valois -and Lady Keynes (Lydia Lopokova), joined us at supper. The ballet had -been a long one, running quite a bit more than an hour, and there was -general agreement among us that the work would benefit from judicious -cutting. Lambert thoughtfully considered all the suggestions that were -proffered; agreed that, conceivably, a cut or two might improve it, but -the question was where and how, without damaging what he felt was the -basic structure of the whole.</p> - -<p>Not long after this, Lambert and I met at the door of Covent Garden, -having arrived simultaneously. We had a brief chat, and he was his usual -vastly courteous and amusing self.</p> - -<p>A few days later, at the Savoy, my telephone rang quite early in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_278">{278}</a></span> the -morning. “Madame’s” secretary, Jane Edgeworth, at the other end, -informed me Constant Lambert had just died. I was stunned.</p> - -<p>It appeared that Lambert had been taken ill while at a party and had -been rushed to London Clinic, one of London’s most exclusive and finest -nursing-homes, on Sunday evening, the 19th August. It was on Tuesday -morning, the 21st August, that I received the news of his death. The -funeral was quite private, since the entire Sadler’s Wells company was -away from London performing at the Edinburgh Festival. Lambert was -buried from the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, at Smithfield, in -the City of London. So private was the service that almost no one was -there, and there were no Pallbearers.</p> - -<p>I was present at the Memorial Service, held at the famous Church of St. -Martin’s-in-the-Fields, at Charing Cross, overlooking the National -Gallery. There were gathered his sorrowing company, now returned from -Edinburgh, headed by Ninette de Valois, Frederick Ashton, and David -Webster. The address was given by the Reverend C. B. Mortlock. Robert -Helpmann, an old colleague, read the Lesson. The chorus of the Royal -Opera House, Covent Garden, sang Bach’s <i>Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring</i>. -At the close, John Churchill, one of Britain’s greatest organists and an -old friend of Lambert’s, played on the organ that elegiac work Lambert -had composed at the rape of Holland, and which he had conducted so -magnificently at the Metropolitan Opera House—his <i>Aubade Heroique</i>.</p> - -<p>Here at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields his colleagues paid him honor. I was -deeply moved. At the little funeral, I had been equally stirred. Here -before me was all that remained of the great man who never took his -greatness seriously; the man who would go to any trouble on behalf of -those who tried, but who, for those who were lazy, or cynical, or -thought themselves superior, and without justification, he had no use -whatever. Here was a man about whom there was nothing of the academic -recluse, but a man who loved life as he loved music, ballet, fully, -strongly, with ever-growing zest and with ever-deepening understanding; -the man who had done so much for ballet, its music, its standards; who -had been of such vital importance in the fashioning of Sadler’s Wells. -My thoughts went back to his creations, his arrangements. I was actually -conscious of his imprint on all ballet. Memories of his wit, his -brilliance, crowded into my mind.</p> - -<p>I expected, I think, that with the sudden passing of a man of such fame, -there would be an outpouring of thousands for his fu<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_279">{279}</a></span>neral, to pay their -last, grateful respects. I was surprised. This was not the case, as I -have explained. A few close distinguished friends and colleagues -gathered beside the coffin in the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, -in the City: Sir William Walton, Osbert and Sacheverell Sitwell, Sir -Arthur Bliss, Edmund Rubbra, Alan Rawsthorne, Ninette de Valois, -Frederick Ashton, and Robert Helpmann who had hurried down from -Edinburgh.</p> - -<p>The service was brief and hushed. I was indeed very sad, and my thoughts -traveled out to the little chapel in Golder’s Green, not so far as an -angel flies, where lay all that was mortal of another genius of the -dance and another friend, in the urn marked: “East Wall—No. 3711—Anna -Pavlova.”</p> - -<p>As Lambert’s body was borne from St. Bartholomew the Great’s gothic -pile, I bowed my head low as a great man passed, a very lovable man.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>DAVID WEBSTER</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>I have dwelt at some length on my impressions of the artistic -directorate of Sadler’s Wells. Beyond and apart from the artistic -direction of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, but very much responsible for -its financial well-being, is David Lumsden Webster, the General -Administrator of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden.</p> - -<p>David Webster is not a head-line hunter. He is certainly not the -press-agent’s delight. He does not court publicity. He permits his work -to speak for itself.</p> - -<p>On more than one occasion I have been appropriately chilled by a reading -of the impersonal factual coldness of the entries in that otherwise -useful volume, <i>Who’s Who</i>. The following quotation from it is no -exception:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Webster, David Lumsden, B.A.—General Administrator Royal Opera -House 1946—Born 3rd July, 1903—Educated Holt School, Liverpool -University, Oxford University—President Liverpool Guild of -Undergraduates, 1924-25—General Manager Bon Marché, Liverpool, -Ltd., 1932-40—General Manager Lewis’s Ltd., Liverpool, -1940-41—Ministry of Supply Ordnance Factories, engaged on special -methods of developing production, 1942-44—Chairman Liverpool -Philharmonic Society, June 1940-October 1945.</i></p></div> - -<p>To be sure, the facts are there. Not only is it possible to elaborate on -these facts, but to add some which may be implicit in the above<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_280">{280}</a></span> -summary, but not apparent. For example, I can add that David Webster is -a cultured gentleman of taste, courage, and splendid business -perspicacity. His early background of business administration, as may be -gathered, was acquired in the fields of textiles and wearing apparel, -and was continued, during the war, in the highly important field of -expediting ordnance production.</p> - -<p>Things that are not implicit or even suggested in <i>Who’s Who</i> are the -depth and breadth of his culture, his knowledge of literature and drama -and poetry and music—his love for the last making him a genuine musical -amateur in the best sense of the term. It was the last that was of -immense value to him as Chairman of the Liverpool Philharmonic Society -in building it into one of Britain’s outstanding symphonic bodies. It is -understandable that there was a certain amount of pardonable pride in -the accomplishment, since Webster is himself a Liverpudlian.</p> - -<p>At the end of the war, in a shell-shocked, bomb-blasted London, Webster -was invited to take over the post of General Administrator at Covent -Garden when the Covent Garden Opera Trust was formed at the time of the -Boosey and Hawkes leasehold. Since 1946, David Webster has been -responsible for the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden: for the Opera -entirely, and for the Ballet, in conjunction with Ninette de Valois.</p> - -<p>During this time, he has restored the historic house to its rightful -place among the leading lyric theatres of the world; where private -enterprise and the private Maecenas failed, Webster has succeeded. By -his policies, the famous house has been saved from the ignominy of a -public dance-hall in off-seasons, for now there are no longer any -“off-seasons.”</p> - -<p>David Webster is uniquely responsible for a number of things at Covent -Garden. Let me try to enumerate them. He has succeeded in establishing -and maintaining the Royal Opera House, Covent Carden, as a truly -national opera house, restoring this great theatre and reclaiming it as -a national center for ballet and opera, on a year-round basis. He has -succeeded in shaking off many of the hidebound traditions and -conventions of opera production. While the great standard works of opera -are an essential part of the operatic repertoire, he initiated a broad -policy of experimentation both in the production of standard works and -in new, untried operas. He has succeeded, through his invitation to the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, in making ballet an integral and important part -of the Opera House and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_281">{281}</a></span> has helped it to become a truly national ballet. -In addition to striking national operas by Bliss and Vaughan Williams, -it was Webster’s courage that has provided a home for three unique -operas, <i>Peter Grimes</i>, <i>Billy Budd</i> and <i>Gloriana</i>, great works by that -brilliant young British composer, Benjamin Britten. While it is true the -original commission for the former work came from the Natalie -Koussevitsky Foundation in America, it was Webster who had the vision -and courage to mount both great modern operas grandly. It was Webster -who had the courage to mount the latter, based on Herman Melville’s -immortal story, with Britten as conductor; and a magnificent one he -turned out to be.</p> - -<p>Britten is indisputably at the very top among the figures of -contemporary music. He is a young man of exceptional gifts, and it is -Webster and the permanent Covent Garden organization that have provided -the composer with exceptional opportunities for the expression of them. -This is only possible through the existence of a national opera house -with a permanent roof over its head.</p> - -<p>As is the case with all innovators, it has not been all clear sailing -for Webster; there were sections of the press that railed against his -policy. But Webster won, because at the root of the policy was a very -genuine desire to break away from stale conventions, to combat some of -the stock objections and prejudices that keep many people away from -opera. For Webster’s aim is to create a steady audience and to appeal to -groups that have not hitherto attended opera and ballet, or have -attended only when the most brilliant stars were appearing.</p> - -<p>In London, as in every center, every country, there are critics and -critics. Some are captious; others are not. One of the latter variety in -London once tackled me, pointing out his dislike for most of the things -that were going on at Covent Garden, his disagreement with others. I -listened for a time, until he asked me if I agreed with him.</p> - -<p>My answer was simple and short.</p> - -<p>“Look here,” I said. “A few years ago this beautiful house had what? -Shilling dances. Who peopled it? Drunken sailors, among others. Bow -Street and the streets adjoining were places you either avoided like the -plague; or else you worried and hurried through them, if you must.</p> - -<p>“Today, you have a great opera house restored to its proper uses. Now -you have something to criticize. Before you didn’t.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_282">{282}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>It has been thanks to David Webster’s sympathetic guidance that ballet -has grown in popularity until its audiences are larger than are those -for opera.</p> - -<p>A man of firm purpose, few words, eclectic taste, and great personal -charm, David Webster is a master of diplomatic skill. I can honestly say -that some of the happiest days of my life have been spent working -closely with him. Had it not been for his warm cooperation, his -unquenchable enthusiasm, America might easily have been denied the -pleasure and profit of Sadler’s Wells, and our lives would have been the -poorer.</p> - -<p>The last time I was in Webster’s office, I remarked, “We must prepare -the papers for the next tour.”</p> - -<p>Webster looked up quickly.</p> - -<p>“No papers are necessary,” he said.</p> - -<p>For the reader who has come this far, it should not be necessary for me -to underline the difference between negotiations with the British and -the years of wrangling through the intrigues and dissimulations of the -Russo-Caucasian-Eastern European-New England mazes of indecision.</p> - -<p>My respect for and my confidence in David Webster are unlimited. He is a -credit to his country; and to him, also, must go much of the credit for -the creation of a genuine national opera and for the solid position of -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ROBERT HELPMANN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>It was towards the end of the San Francisco engagement of the Sadler’s -Wells Ballet that there occurred a performance, gala so far as the -audience was concerned, but which was not without its sadness to the -company, to me, and to all those who had watched the growth and -development, the rise to a position of pre-eminence on the part of -British ballet. The public was, of course, completely unaware of the -event. It is not the sort of thing one publicizes.</p> - -<p>Robert Helpmann, long the principal male dancer, a co-builder, and an -important choreographer of the company, resigned. His last performance -as a regular member of the organization took place in the War Memorial -Opera House. The vehicle for his last appearance was the grand -<i>pas-de-deux</i> from the third act of <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, with Margot -Fonteyn. It was eminently fitting that Helpmann’s final appearance as a -regular member of the company was with Margot.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_283">{283}</a></span> Their association, as -first artists with the company, encompassed the major portion of its -history, some fifteen years.</p> - -<p>During this period, Helpmann had served in two capacities -simultaneously: as principal dancer and as choreographer. An Australian -by birth in 1909, his first ballet training came from the Anna Pavlova -company when Pavlova was on one of her Australian tours. For four years -he danced “down under,” and came to Britain in 1933, studying with the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet School, while dancing in the <i>corps de ballet</i>. -His first important role was in succession to Anton Dolin as Satan, in -the de Valois-Vaughan Williams <i>Job</i>. From 1934, he was the first male -dancer of the Sadler’s Wells organization. Helpmann often took leaves of -absence to appear in various plays and films, for he is an actor of -ability and distinction. As a choreographer, his <i>Hamlet</i> and <i>Miracle -in the Gorbals</i> are distinctive additions to any repertoire.</p> - -<p>“Bobby” Helpmann has not given up ballet entirely. When he can spare the -time from his theatrical and film commitments, he is bound to turn up as -a guest artist, and I hope to see him again partnering great -<i>ballerinas</i>. Always a good colleague, he has been blessed by the gods -with a delicious sense of humor. This serves him admirably in such roles -as one of the Ugly Sisters in <i>Cinderella</i>—I never can distinguish -which one by name, and only know “Bobby” was the sister which “Freddy” -Ashton was not. Both <i>Hamlet</i> and <i>Miracle in the Gorbals</i> revealed his -serious acting qualities.</p> - -<p>Man of the theatre, he is resourceful. On the first night of <i>The -Sleeping Beauty</i>, at the Metropolitan Opera House, there were a few -ticklish moments at the beginning of the Transformation Scene, due to -technical difficulties. The orchestra under Lambert went straight on. -But the stage wait was covered by Helpmann’s entrance, his sure hand, -his manner, his style, his “line,” his graciousness.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned some of Helpmann’s warm personal qualities. He is one -of those associated with Sadler’s Wells who has helped to number my -Sadler’s Wells’ associations among my happiest experiences. Helpmann is -one of those who, like the others when I am with them, compel me to -forget my business interests and concerns and all their associated -problems: just another proof that, with people of this sort, there is -something else in life besides business.</p> - -<p>There has been, perhaps, undue emphasis placed upon Helpmann, the actor, -with a corresponding tendency to overlook his dancing abilities. From -the point of view of sheer technical virtu<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_284">{284}</a></span>osity, there are others who -surpass him. But technical virtuosity is not by any means all of a -dancer’s story. I happen to know of dancers who, in my opinion, have -excelled Nijinsky and Pavlova in these departments, but they were much -lesser artists. It is the overall quality in a dancer that matters. -Helpmann, I feel, is a dancer of really exceptional fluency, superb -lightness, genuine musicality, and admirable control. He is one of the -rare examples among male dancers to be seen about us today of what is -known in ballet terminology as the <i>danseur noble</i>. It is the <i>danseur -noble</i> who is the hero, the prince, of classical ballet. As a mime and -an actor in ballet he may be compared with Leonide Massine, but the -quality I have mentioned Helpmann as having is something that has been -denied Massine, who is best in modern character ballets.</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur Bliss, one of Britain’s most distinguished composers, and the -creator of the scores to, among others, <i>Checkmate</i> and <i>Miracle in the -Gorbals</i>, has said: “Robert Helpmann breathes the dust of the theatre -like hydrogen. His quickness to seize on the dramatic possibilities of -music is mercurial. I was not at all surprised to hear him sing in <i>Les -Sirènes</i>. It would seem quite natural to see him walk on to the Albert -Hall platform one day to play a violin concerto.”</p> - -<p>It is always a pleasure to me to observe him in his varied roles and to -watch him prepare for them. He leaves absolutely nothing to chance. His -approach is always the product of his fine intelligence. He experiments -with expression, with gesture, with make-up, coupling his reading, his -study of paintings, with his own keen sense of observation.</p> - -<p>“Bobby” Helpmann and I have one great bond in common: our mutual -adoration of Pavlova. Pavlova has, I know, strongly influenced him, and -this influence is apparent in the genuine aristocracy of his bearing and -his movement, in the purity of his style.</p> - -<p>There is a pretty well authenticated story about the first meeting -between Helpmann and Ninette de Valois, after the former had arrived in -London from Australia, and was looking for work at Sadler’s Wells. It -was an audition. The choreographer at such times is personally concerned -with the body of the aspirant, the extremities, the quality of movement, -the technical equipment of the applicant, some revelation of his -training and his style, if any. It is characteristic of Ninette de -Valois’ tendency to do the unexpected that, in Helpmann’s case, she -found herself regarding the “wrong end” of her subject. Her comment on -this occasion has become historic.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_285">{285}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I can do something with that face,” she said.</p> - -<p>She did.</p> - -<p>It has been a source of regret to me that on the 1953 American visit of -the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, “Bobby” Helpmann is not a regular member of -the company. It is not the same without him.</p> - -<p>I have said that perhaps undue emphasis has been put on Helpmann, the -actor. If this is true, it is only because of “Bobby’s” amazing -versatility: as dancer, as choreographer, as actor, as stage-director. -He can turn at will from one medium to the other. As actor, it should -not be forgotten that he has appeared with equal success in revues (as a -mimic); in Shakespeare (both on stage and screen); in plays ranging from -Webster and Bernard Shaw to the Russian Andreyev.</p> - -<p>Most recently, he has acted with the American Katherine Hepburn, and has -scored perhaps his most outstanding directorial success to date in his -superlatively fine mounting of T. S. Eliot’s <i>Murder in the Cathedral</i>, -at the Old Vic.</p> - -<p>I am looking forward to bringing “Bobby” to America in the not too far -distant future in a great production of a Shakespeare work which I am -confident will make theatrical history.</p> - -<p>“Bobby” Helpmann, as I have pointed out, is more than a dancer: he is a -splendid actor, a fine creator, a distinguished choreographer, an -intelligent human being.</p> - -<p>His is a friendship I value; he is alive and eager, keen and shrewd, -with a ready smile and a glint in his eye. For “Bobby” has a happy way -with him, and whether you are having a meal with him or discussing a -point, you cannot help reacting to his boyish enthusiasm, his zeal for -his job, his flair for doing it. My memories of dinners and suppers with -the “inseparables,” to which I have often been invited, are treasured. -The “inseparables” were that closely-linked little group: Fonteyn, -Ashton, Helpmann, with de Valois along, when she was in town and free. -The bond between the members of the group is very close.</p> - -<p>It was in Chicago. It was mid-tour, with rehearsals and conferences and -meetings for future planning. We were at breakfast. “Madame” suddenly -turned to Helpmann.</p> - -<p>“Bobby,” she said, with that crisp tone that immediately commands -attention. “Bobby, I want you to be sure to be at the Drake Hotel to -give a talk to the ladies at one o’clock <i>sharp</i>. Now, be sure to come, -and be sure to be there on time.”</p> - -<p>“How, in heaven’s name,” replied Helpmann, “can I possibly be<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_286">{286}</a></span> in two -places at one time? You told me I shall have to be at the Public Library -at one sharp.”</p> - -<p>De Valois regarded him for a long moment.</p> - -<p>“You astound me, Bobby,” she finally said. “Did I tell you that? Very -well, then, let it be the Public Library. I shall take the Drake Hotel. -But watch out, make sure you are there on time.”</p> - -<p>Ninette de Valois not only did something with “that face.” She also made -good use of that intelligence.</p> - -<p>I last saw “Bobby” Helpmann dance at the Royal Opera House, Covent -Garden, on Coronation Night, when he returned as a guest artist with the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, to appear with Margot Fonteyn in <i>Le Lac des -Cygnes</i>, Act Two.</p> - -<p>What a pleasure it was to see him dancing once more, the true cavalier, -with his perfect style and the same submerging of technique in the ebb -and flow of the dance. I am looking forward to seeing him again, and, I -hope, again and again.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ARNOLD L. HASKELL</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Among my cherished associations with this fine organization, I cannot -fail to acknowledge the contribution to ballet and the popularity of it, -made through the media of books, articles, lectures, by the one-time -ballet critic and now Director and Principal of the Sadler’s Wells -School, Arnold L. Haskell.</p> - -<p>Haskell, the complete <i>balletomane</i> himself, has done as much, if not -more, to develop the cult of the <i>balletomane</i> in the western -Anglo-Saxon world as any one else I know. Devoted to the cause of the -dance, for years he gave unsparingly of his time and means to spread the -gospel of ballet.</p> - -<p>In the early days of the renaissance of ballet, Haskell came to the -United States on the first visit of the de Basil company and was of -immense assistance in helping to create an interest in and a desire to -find out about ballet on the part of the American people. He helped to -organize an audience. Later, he toured Australia with the de Basil -company, preaching “down under” the gospel of the true art with the zeal -of a passionate, proselyting, non-conformist missionary.</p> - -<p>From his untiring pen has come a long procession of books and articles -on ballet appreciation in general, and on certain phases of ballet in -particular—books of illumination to the lay public, of sound advice to -dancers.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_287">{287}</a></span></p> - -<p>Arnold Haskell’s balletic activities can be divided into five -departments: organizer, author, lecturer, critic, and educator. In the -first category, he, with Philip J. S. Richardson, long-time editor and -publisher of the <i>Dancing Times</i> (London), was instrumental in forming -and founding the Camargo Society, after the death of Diaghileff. As -lecturer, he delivered more than fifteen hundred lectures on ballet for -the British Ministry of Information, the Arts Council, the Council for -the Education of His Majesty’s Forces. As critic, he has written -innumerable critical articles for magazines and periodicals, and, from -1934 to 1938, was the ballet critic of the <i>Daily Telegraph</i> (London).</p> - -<p>As critic, Haskell has rendered a valuable service to ballet. His -approach is invariably intelligent. He has a sound knowledge of the -dancer as dancer and, so far as dancers and dancing are concerned, he -has exhibited a fine intuition and a good deal of prophetic insight.</p> - -<p>The fifth department of Arnold Haskell’s activities, educator, is the -one on which he is today most successfully and conspicuously engaged. As -the active head of the Sadler’s Wells School, established in its own -building in Colet Gardens, Kensington, Arnold Haskell is in his element, -continuing his sound advice directly; he is acting as wise and -discerning mentor to a rising generation of dancers, who live together -in the same atmosphere for at least eight years.</p> - -<p>I have a feeling of warm friendship for Arnold Haskell, an infinite -respect for him as a person, and for his knowledge.</p> - -<p>The School of which he is the head, like all other Sadler’s Wells -activities, is carried on in association with the British Arts Council, -thus carrying forward the Council’s avowed axiom that the art of a -people is one of its signs of good health. So it has always been in the -world’s history from Ancient Greece to France at the time of the -Crusades, to Renaissance Italy and Elizabethan England. Each one of -those earlier manifestations, whatever its excellence, was confined to a -limited number of people, to the privileged and the elect. The new -renaissance will inevitably be the emergence of the common man into the -audience of art. He has always been a part of that audience when he has -had the opportunity. Now the opportunity must come in such a way that -none is overlooked and the result will be fresh vigour and -self-confidence in the people as a whole.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells School is, of course, under the direct supervision of -Dame Ninette de Valois, D.B.E. Its Board of Governors, which is active -and not merely a list of names, numbers<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_288">{288}</a></span> distinguished figures from the -world of art, music and letters.</p> - -<p>The School was founded by the Governors of the Sadler’s Wells -Foundation, in association with the Arts Council, in 1947, to train -dancers who will be fitted to carry on the high tradition of Sadler’s -Wells and generally to maintain and enhance the prestige of British -Ballet. Over eighty-five per cent of the members of the ballet companies -at both the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, and at the Sadler’s Wells -Theatre are graduates of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School. The School -combines a full secondary education and a highly specialized vocational -training. Boys and girls are taken from the age of nine. Pupils are -prepared for what is the equivalent on this side of the Atlantic of a -complete High School education; in Britain, the General Certificate of -Education, and the curriculum includes the usual school subjects of -English language and literature, French, Latin (for boys only), history, -geography, Scripture, mathematics, science, handicraft, music, and art -work. The dance training consists of classical ballet, character dances, -mime. Importance is attached to character formation and to the -self-discipline essential for success on the stage.</p> - -<p>There is also an Upper School, which is open to boys and girls above -school-leaving age. After taking the General Certificate of Education, -the American equivalent of graduation from high school, students from -the Lower School pass into the Upper School if they have reached a -standard which qualifies them for further training in the senior ballet -classes. The Upper School is also open to students from other schools. -Entry is by interview, and applicants are judged on general -intelligence, physical aptitude, and standard attained. Entrants are -accepted on one term’s trial. Here the curriculum includes, in -post-education: classes in English and French language and literature, -history, art, music, lecture courses, and Dalcroze Eurhythmics. In -ballet—the classical ballet, character dances, mime, tuition in the -roles of the classical ballets and modern works in the repertoire of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet Companies. It is important to note that all ballet -classes for boys are taken by male teachers.</p> - -<p>The School is inspected by Her Majesty’s Inspectors of Schools, and is -licensed as a first-class educational institution. The pupils number -about one hundred ten in the Lower School, with about thirty in the -Upper School.</p> - -<p>So splendidly has the School developed that now a substantial<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_289">{289}</a></span> physical -addition is being made to the premises in Colet Gardens, in the form of -a new building, to provide dormitories and living quarters so that it -may become a full-time boarding school, as well as a day-school; and -thus obviate the necessity for many students to live outside the school, -either at home or, as so often the case if the students come from -distant places, in the proverbial London “digs.”</p> - -<p>One of the most interesting and significant things about the School to -me is the number of boys enrolled and their backgrounds. Such is the -feeling about male dancing in our Anglo-Saxon civilization that many of -the boys have had to be offered scholarship inducements to enroll. The -bulk of the boys come out of working-class families in the North of -England and the Midlands. They are tough and manly. It is from boys such -as these that the prejudice against male dancing will gradually die out, -and the effeminate dancer will become, as he should, a thing of the -past.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>MOIRA SHEARER</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Although, to my regret, due to personal, family, and artistic reasons, -Moira Shearer is not present with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet on its -1953-1954 North American tour, I know her devotion to the Sadler’s Wells -institution remains unchanged.</p> - -<p>The simple fact is that Moira Shearer is preparing to enter a new and -different aspect of the theatre, a development with which I hope I shall -have something to do in the near future.</p> - -<p>Among the personalities of the company during the first two Sadler’s -Wells tours, American interest and curiosity were at their highest, for -obvious reasons, in Moira Shearer. The film, <i>Red Shoes</i>, had stimulated -an interest in ballet on the part of yet another new public, and its -<i>ballerina</i> star had acquired the questionable halo of a movie star. -This was something that was anything but pleasing to the gentle, -intelligent Moira Shearer; and was, moreover, something she deplored.</p> - -<p>Born in Dunfermline, Fifeshire, Scotland, in 1926, Moira Shearer came to -ballet at an early age, having had dance lessons in Rhodesia as a child -at the hands of a former Diaghileff dancer. It was on her return to -England, when she was about eleven, that her serious studies began with -Madame Nadine Nicolaeva-Legat. In 1940 she joined the Sadler’s Wells -Ballet School, remaining briefly, however,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_290">{290}</a></span> because of the blitz. But, -early in 1941, she turned up with the International Ballet, another -British ballet organization, dancing leading roles at the age of -fourteen, another example of the “baby” <i>ballerina</i>. In 1942, she left -that company to rejoin Sadler’s Wells School.</p> - -<p>In 1943, Shearer became a member of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, achieving -an almost instant success and a marked popularity with audiences. What -impresses me most about Moira Shearer, the dancer, is a fluidity of -movement that has about it a definite Russian quality; she has a fine -polish in her style, coupled with great spontaneity and a gentle, easy -grace.</p> - -<p>Distinctive not only for her Titian-coloring and her famed auburn-haired -beauty and her slender grace, Shearer is equally noteworthy for her -poise and an almost incredible lightness; for her assurance and -classical dignity; for her ability to dominate the stage. The “Russian” -quality about her dancing I have mentioned, I suspect stems from her -early indoctrination and her training at the hands of Madame Legat; -there is something Russian about her entrances, when she immediately -commands the stage and becomes the focus of all eyes. All of these -qualities are particularly apparent in <i>Cinderella</i>.</p> - -<p>Moira Shearer’s reputation had preceded her across the United States and -Canada, as I have pointed out, because of the exhibition of spontaneity, -beauty and charm that had been revealed to thousands in the motion -picture, <i>Red Shoes</i>. There is no denying this film was highly -successful. I suppose it can be argued successfully that <i>Red Shoes</i> -brought ballet to a new audience, and thus, in that sense, was good for -ballet. Whatever it may have been, it was not a true, or good, or honest -picture of ballet. I happen to know how Moira Shearer feels about it, -and I share her feelings. Although she dislikes to talk or hear very -much about <i>Red Shoes</i>, and was not very happy with it or about it, she -was, I fancy, less disturbed by her role in <i>The Tales of Hoffman</i>, with -“Freddy” Ashton, “Bobby” Helpmann, and Leonide Massine. Best of all her -film excursions, Moira feels, was her sequence in <i>My Three Loves</i>, -which Ashton directed for her in Hollywood.</p> - -<p>Once, on introducing her to one of those characteristic, monumental -California salads, her comment was: “My, but it’s delicious; yet it -looks like that Technicolor mess I should like to forget.” Shearer feels -<i>Red Shoes</i> was rather a sad mess, a complete travesty<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_291">{291}</a></span> of the ballet -life which it posed as portraying; that it was false and phoney -throughout, and that, perhaps, the phoniest thing about it was its -alleged glamor. On the other hand, she does not regard the time she -spent making it wasted, for, as she says, she was able to sit at the -feet of Leonide Massine and watch and learn and observe the -concentration with which he worked, the intelligence he brought to every -gesture, and the vast ingenuity and originality he applied to everything -he did.</p> - -<p>I happen to know Shearer has no illusions about the film publicity -campaign that made her a movie star overnight. She was amused by it, but -never taken in, and was hurt only when the crowds mobbed for autographs -and Americans hailed her as “<i>the</i> star” of Sadler’s Wells.</p> - -<p>Cultured and highly intelligent, Moira Shearer is intensely musical, -both in life and in the dance. This musicality is particularly apparent -in her portrayal of the Princess Aurora in <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>, and in -the dual role of Odette-Odile in <i>Swan Lake</i>. Again it is markedly -noticeable in a quite non-classical work, for of all the dancers I have -seen dance the Tango in <i>Façade</i>, she is by far the most satiric and -brilliant. She is well-nigh indispensable to <i>Wedding Bouquet</i>.</p> - -<p>Aside from the qualities I have mentioned, there is also a fine -romanticism about her work. Intelligence in a dancer is something that -is rare. There are those who argue that it is not necessarily a virtue -in a dancer. They could not be more wrong. It is, I think, Moira -Shearer’s superior intelligence that gives her, among other things, that -power of pitiless self-criticism that is the hallmark of the first-class -artist.</p> - -<p>Moira Shearer has been as fortunate in her private life as in her -professional activities. She lives happily in a lovely London home with -her attractive and talented writer-husband, Ludovic Kennedy. During the -second Sadler’s Wells American tour, her husband drove across the -continent from New York to Los Angeles to join Moira for the California -engagement, discovering, by means of a tiny Austin, that there were -still a great many of the wide-open spaces left in the land Columbus -discovered.</p> - -<p>In her charming London flat, with her husband, her books, her pictures, -and her music, she carries out one of her most serious ambitions: to be -a good mother; for the center of the household is her young daughter, -born in midsummer, 1952.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_292">{292}</a></span></p> - -<p>The depth of Moira Shearer’s sincerity I happen to know not only from -others, but from personal experience. It is a genuine and real sincerity -that applies to every aspect of her life, and not only in art and the -theatre.</p> - -<p>A loyal colleague, she has a highly developed sense of honor. As Ninette -de Valois once remarked to me: “Anything that Moira has ever said or -promised is a bond with her, and nothing of a confirming nature in -writing is required.”</p> - -<p>A splendid artist, <i>ballerina</i>, and film star, it is my profound hope -that Moira may meet with the same degree of success in her new venture -into the legitimate theatre.</p> - -<p>There seems little doubt of this, since I am persuaded that she will -make good in anything she undertakes.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>BERYL GREY</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Another full-fledged <i>ballerina</i> of the company, is Beryl Grey, who -alternates all <i>ballerina</i> roles today with Fonteyn, Violetta Elvin, -Nadia Nerina and Rowena Jackson. Beryl Grey’s American success was -assured on the opening night of the first season at the Metropolitan -Opera House, with her gracious and commandingly sympathetic performance -of the Lilac Fairy in <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>.</p> - -<p>In a sense, Grey’s and Shearer’s careers have followed a similar -pattern, in that they were both “baby ballerinas.” Born Beryl Groom, at -Muswell Hill, in London’s Highgate section, in 1927, the daughter of a -government technical expert and his wife, Beryl Grey’s dancing studies -began very early in life in Manchester, and at the age of nine, she won -a scholarship at the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School. In 1941, she joined -the company, and so rapid was her growth as an artist that she danced -leading roles in some half-dozen of the one-act ballets in the -repertoire, in place of Margot Fonteyn who had been taken ill. Even more -remarkable is the fact that she danced the full-length <i>Swan Lake</i> in -London on her fifteenth birthday.</p> - -<p>The term, “baby ballerina,” has become a part of ballet’s language, due -to its association with the careers of Baronova and Toumanova in the -early ’thirties. In Grey’s case, however, she was privileged to have a -much wider experience in classical ballets than her <i>émigré</i> Russian -predecessors. She was only seventeen when she danced the greatest of all -classical roles in the repertoire of the true <i>ballerina</i>, Giselle.</p> - -<p>My feeling about Beryl Grey, the dancer, is that she possesses<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_293">{293}</a></span> -strikingly individual qualities, both of style and technique. She has -been greatly helped along the path to stardom by Frederick Ashton who, -as I have pointed out, likes nothing better than to discover and exploit -a dancer’s talents. It was he who gave Grey her first big dramatic -parts.</p> - -<p>Beryl Grey is married to a distinguished Swedish osteopath, Dr. Sven -Svenson, and they live in a charming Mayfair flat in London. Here again -one finds that characteristic of fine intelligence coupled with an -intense musicality. Also rare among dancers, Grey is an omnivorous -reader of history, biography, and the arts. She feels, I know, that, -apart from “Madame” and Ashton, who have been so keenly instrumental in -shaping her career, a sense of deep gratitude to Constant Lambert for -his kindness and help to her from her very early days; for his readiness -to discuss with her any aspect of music; and she gratefully remembers -how nothing was too inconsequential for his interest, his advice and -help; how no conductor understood what the dancer required from music -more than he did. She is also mindful of the inspiration she had from -Leonide Massine, of his limitless energy, his indefatigable enthusiasm, -his creative fire; she learned that no detail was too small to be -corrected and worked over and over. As she says: “He was so swift and -light, able to draw with immediate ease a complete and clear picture.” -Also, she points out, “He was quiet and of few words, but had a fine -sense of humor which was often reflected in his penetrating brown eyes. -His rare praise meant a great deal.”</p> - -<p>Beryl Grey is the star in the first three-dimensional ballet film ever -to be made, based on the famous Black Swan <i>pas de deux</i> from <i>Le Lac -des Cygnes</i>.</p> - -<p>From the point of view of a dancer, Beryl Grey had one misfortune over -which she had to triumph: she is above average height. This she has been -able to turn into a thing of beauty, with a beautifully flowing length -of “line.” Personally, she is a gentle person, with a genuine humility -and a simple unaffected kindliness, and a fresh, completely unspoiled -charm. Her success in all the great roles has been such as to make her -one of the most popular figures with the public.</p> - -<p>I find great pleasure in her precision and strength as a dancer, in her -poised, statuesque grace, in her clean technique; and in her special -sort of technical accomplishment, wherein nothing ever seems to present -her any problems.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_294">{294}</a></span></p> - -<p>During the American tours of Sadler’s Wells, she is almost invariably -greeted with flowers at the station. She seems to have friends in every -city. How she manages to do this, I am not sure; but I feel it must be a -tribute to her genuine warmth and friendliness.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>VIOLETTA ELVIN</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Violetta Elvin, another of the talented <i>ballerinas</i> of the “fabulous” -Sadler’s Wells company, is in the direct line of Russian ballet, for she -is a product of the contemporary ballet of Russia.</p> - -<p>The daughter of a pioneer of Russian aviation, Vassili Prokhoroff, and -his wife, Irina Grimousinkaya, a Polish artist and an early experimenter -with action photography, Violetta Prokhorova became a pupil at the -Bolshoi Theatre, Moscow, at the age of nine. It is interesting to note -that she was one of a class of fifty accepted out of five hundred -applicants; it is still more interesting, and an example of the rigorous -Russian training, that, when she finished the course nine years later, -out of the original fifty there were only nine left: three girls and six -boys. Of the three girls, Prokhorova was the only one who attained -ballet’s coveted rank of <i>etoile</i>.</p> - -<p>Violetta finished her training at the time Moscow was being evacuated -against the Nazi invasion, and was sent on a three-thousand mile journey -to be a <i>ballerina</i> at the ballet at Tashkent, Russian Turkestan. Here, -at the age of eighteen, she danced the leading roles in two works, <i>The -Fountain of Bakchissarai</i>, based on Pushkin’s famous poem, and <i>Don -Quixote</i>, the Minkus work of which contemporary American balletgoers -know only the famous <i>pas de deux</i>, but which I presented in America, -during the season 1925-1926, staged by Laurent Novikoff, with settings -and costumes by the great Russian painter, Korovin.</p> - -<p>Another point of interest about Elvin is that she was never a member of -the <i>corps de ballet</i>, for she was transferred from Tashkent to the -Bolshoi Ballet, which had been moved, for safety reasons, to Kuibyshev, -some five hundred miles from Moscow. In the early autumn of 1943, when -the Nazi horde had been driven back in defeat, the Ballet returned to -the Bolshoi, and Prokhorova danced important roles there.</p> - -<p>It was in Moscow, in 1945, that Violetta Prokhorova married Harold -Elvin, an architect associated with the British Embassy, and came with -him to London. On her arrival in London she be<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_295">{295}</a></span>came a member of the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, first as a soloist, and later as <i>ballerina</i>.</p> - -<p>My own impressions are of a vibrant personality and a great beauty. Her -feet are extraordinarily beautiful, and, if I am any judge of the female -figure, I would say her body approximates the perfect classical -proportions. In her dancing, her Russian training is at all times -evident, for there is a charm of manner, a broad lyricism, coupled with -a splendid poise that are not the common heritage of all western -dancers.</p> - -<p>It begins to sound like an overworked cliché, but again we have that -rare quality in a dancer: intelligence. Once again, intelligence coupled -with striking beauty. Elvin’s interests include all the classics in -literature, the history of art, philosophy, museums, and good Russian -food.</p> - -<p>Already Elvin has had a film career, two motion pictures to date: <i>Twice -Upon a Time</i>, by the makers of <i>Red Shoes</i>, and the latest, the story of -the great British soprano, Nellie Melba, the title role of which is -played by Patrice Munsel.</p> - -<p>While engaged on the second American tour of the Sadler’s Wells company, -Violetta met an American, whom she has recently married.</p> - -<p>Talented far beyond average measure, Elvin is a true <i>ballerina</i> in the -tradition of the Russian school and is ever alert to improve her art and -to give audiences something better than her best.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>NADIA NERINA</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>I cannot fail to pay my respects to the young Nadia Nerina, today -another of the alternating <i>ballerinas</i> of the company, with full -<i>ballerina</i> standing, whom I particularly remember as one of the most -delightful and ebullient soloists of the company on its two American -visits.</p> - -<p>An example of the wide British Commonwealth base of the personnel of the -Sadler’s Wells company, Nadia Nerina is from South Africa, where she was -born in 1927. It was in Cape Town that she commenced her ballet studies -and had her early career; for she was a winner of the <i>South African -Dancing Times</i> Gold Medal and, when she was fifteen, was awarded the -Avril Kentridge Shield in the Dance Festival at Durban. Moreover, she -toured the Union of South Africa and, when nineteen, went to London to -study<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_296">{296}</a></span> at the Sadler’s Wells School. Very soon after her arrival, she -was dancing leading roles and was one of the <i>ballerinas</i> of the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet.</p> - -<p>Such was her success in Rosebery Avenue, and such the wisdom of Ninette -de Valois, that, within the year, Nerina was transferred to Covent -Carden. Today, as I have pointed out, she has been promoted to full -<i>ballerina</i> status.</p> - -<p>It is a well-deserved promotion, for Nerina’s development has been as -sure as it has been steady. I have seen her in <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i> since -her ascendancy to full <i>ballerina</i> rank, and have rejoiced in her fine -technical performance, as I have in the quality of her miming—something -that is equally true in Delibes’ <i>Sylvia</i>.</p> - -<p>It is characteristic of Ninette de Valois that she gives all her -<i>ballerinas</i> great freedom within the organization. One is permitted to -go to Denmark, Norway, Sweden. Another to La Scala, Milan. Yet another -to films. An example of this desire on “Madame’s” part to encourage her -leading personnel to extend their experience and to prevent any spirit -of isolation, is the tour Nerina recently made through her native South -Africa, in company with her Sadler’s Wells partner, Alexis Rassine, -himself a South African.</p> - -<p>The outstanding quality in Nerina’s dancing for me is the sheer joy she -brings to it, a sort of love for dancing for its own sake. In everything -she does, there is the imprint of her own strong personality, her -vitality, and the genuine elegance she brings to the use of her sound -technique.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>ROWENA JACKSON</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>During the first two American tours of the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, a -young dancer who attracted an unusual amount of attention, particularly -in the Ashton-Lambert <i>Les Patineurs</i>, for her remarkable virtuosic -performance and her multiple turns, was Rowena Jackson.</p> - -<p>Today, Rowena Jackson is the newest addition to the Sadler’s Wells list -of <i>ballerinas</i>.</p> - -<p>Rowena Jackson is still another example of the width of the British -Commonwealth base of the Sadler’s Wells organization, having been born -in Invercargil, New Zealand, on the 24th March, 1926, where her father -was postmaster. Her first ballet training was at the Lawson-Powell -School, in New Zealand. It was in 1947 that the young dancer joined the -Sadler’s Wells Ballet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_297">{297}</a></span></p> - -<p>This rise of the British dancer more than fulfils the prophecy of The -Swan. It was thirty years ago that Pavlova said: “English women have -fine faces, graceful figures, and a real sense of poetry of dancing. -They only lack training to provide the best dancers of the world.” She -went on: “If only more real encouragement were given in England to -ballet dancers the day would not be far distant when the English dancer -would prove a formidable rival to the Russians.”</p> - -<p>Now that the British dancer has been given the encouragement, the truth -of Anna Pavlova’s prophecy is the more striking.</p> - -<p>As I have said, Rowena Jackson attracted attention throughout North -America in <i>Les Patineurs</i>, gaining a reputation for a surpassing -technical brilliance in turns. These turns, known as <i>fouetées</i>, I have -mentioned more than once. Legend has it that Jackson can do in excess of -one hundred-fifty of them, non-stop. It is quite incredible.</p> - -<p>Brilliance is one thing. Interpretation is another. When I saw Jackson -in <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i>, my admiration for her and for Ninette de Valois -soared. Jackson’s Swan Queen proved to me that at Sadler’s Wells another -<i>ballerina</i> had been born. (I nearly wrote “created”; but <i>ballerinas</i> -are born, not made). As the Swan Queen she was all pathos and softness -and tenderness and protectiveness; to the evil Black Swan, Odile, she -brought the hard brittleness the role demands.</p> - -<p>Rowena Jackson’s future among the illustrious of the world of ballet -seems assured, and I shall watch her with interest, as I am sure will -audiences.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>SADLER’S WELLS THEATRE BALLET</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>While I was in London after the close of the first American tour of the -Sadler’s Wells Covent Garden Ballet, I paid a visit to the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, the cradle of the organization.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells Theatre is in Rosebery Avenue, in the Borough of -Islington, now a middle-class residential section of London, but once a -county borough. For nearly three hundred years, the site of the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre has been used for entertainment purposes. Several theatres -have stood on the site, and while the dance has always been prominent in -its history, everything from tight-rope and wire-walking exhibitions to -performing dogs and dance troupes has been seen there.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_298">{298}</a></span></p> - -<p>It was in 1683 that a certain Thomas Sadler, who was, apparently, a -Highway Surveyor, lived there in what was then Clerkenwell, and found a -well, actually a spring, having medicinal properties, in his garden. It -soon was regarded as a holy well, with healing powers attributed to it. -Hither came the halt, the blind and the sick to be cured, and Mr. Sadler -determined to commercialize his property. On his lawn he built his Musik -House, a long room with a stage, orchestra and seats for those partakers -of the waters who desired refreshments as well during their -imbibing—and he also provided entertainment. The well is still there -today, preserved under the present theatre, but is no longer used, and -the theatre’s water supply is from the municipal mains.</p> - -<p>Rebuilt, largely by public subscription, the present theatre was opened -in 1931, alternating opera and Shakespeare with the Old Vic, but -eventually it became the exclusive home and base of the Sadler’s Wells -Opera Company and the Sadler’s Wells Ballet Company. In 1946, when -Ninette de Valois accepted the invitation of the Covent Garden Opera -Trust to move the Sadler’s Wells Ballet company to the Royal Opera -House, Covent Garden, another company (actually the revival of another -idea, the Sadler’s Wells Opera Ballet) was established at the Sadler’s -Wells Theatre, and called the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet.</p> - -<p>Here, in a fine, comfortable, modern theatre, I saw a fresh young -company, with seasoned artists, first-class productions, and some -first-rate dancing: a company I felt America should know.</p> - -<p>There was an extensive repertoire of modern works by Frederick Ashton, -Ninette de Valois, and the rising young John Cranko, and others. The -Ashton works include <i>Façade</i>, the Ravel <i>Valses Nobles et -Sentimentales</i>; <i>Les Rendez-Vous</i>, to Auber music arranged by Constant -Lambert; and the charming <i>Capriol Suite</i>, to the music by Philip -Heseltine (Peter Warlock), inspired by Arbeau’s <i>Orchesographie</i>. There -were three works by Andrée Howard: <i>Assembly Ball</i>, to the Bizet -Symphony in C; <i>Mardi Gras</i>; and <i>La Fête Etrange</i>. Celia Franka had an -interesting work, <i>Khadra</i>, to a Sibelius score, with charming Persian -miniature setting and costumes by Honor Frost. The young South African -John Cranko, who had been a member of the Covent Garden company in the -first New York season, had a number of extremely interesting works, -including <i>Sea Change</i>; and Ninette de Valois had revived her <i>The -Haunted Ballroom</i>, to a Geoffrey Toye score, and the Lambert-Boyce <i>The -Prospect Before<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_299">{299}</a></span> Us</i>. There were also sound classics, including <i>Swan -Lake</i>, in the second act version.</p> - -<p>The company, under the direction of Ninette de Valois, had a fine -dancer, Peggy van Praagh, as ballet mistress.</p> - -<p>It occurred to me that, by adding new elements and reviving full length -works, it would be an excellent thing to bring the company to the United -States and Canada for a tour following upon that of the Covent Garden -company.</p> - -<p>I discussed the matter with Ninette de Valois and David Webster, both of -whom were favorable to the idea; and, since it was impossible for the -Covent Garden company to come over for a third tour at that time, they -urged me to give further consideration to the possibility.</p> - -<p>On my next visit to London, I went over matters in detail with George -Chamberlain, Clerk to the Governors of Sadler’s Wells, and himself the -opposite number at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre to David Webster at Covent -Garden. I found Chamberlain equally cooperative and helpful, despite the -fact he has a wide variety of interests and responsibilities, including -the Sadler’s Wells Opera Company, the Old Vic, and the Sadler’s Wells -School. We have become close friends. Following our initial conferences, -we went into a series of them, in conjunction with Ursula Moreton, at -the time “Madame’s” assistant at Sadler’s Wells, and Peggy van Praagh, -the company’s ballet mistress.</p> - -<p>As a result of these discussions, it was agreed to increase the size of -the dancing personnel of the company from thirty-two to thirty-six, and -to bring to North America a repertoire of fourteen ballets, including -one full-length work, and to add to the roster one or two more principal -dancers.</p> - -<p>Handshakes all round sealed the bargain, and a contract was signed for a -twenty-two week season for 1951-52.</p> - -<p>It was on my return to London, in March, 1951, that I saw the <i>première</i> -of the first of their new productions, <i>Pineapple Poll</i>, a ballet freely -adapted from the Bab Ballad, “The Bumbeat Woman’s Story,” by W. S. -Gilbert, with music by Arthur Sullivan, arranged by a young Australian, -Charles Mackerras, a conductor at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre. The -scenery and costumes were by Osbert Lancaster, noted architectural -historian and cartoonist, and the choreography by John Cranko, who had -worked in collaboration with Lancaster and Mackerras.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_300">{300}</a></span></p> - -<p>The work had its first performance at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre on the -13th March, 1951. The entire programme I saw that night was made up of -Cranko works, and I found myself seated before a quartet of works, -highly varied in content and style, all of which interested me, some, to -be sure, more than others. The evening commenced with Cranko’s <i>Sea -Change</i>. A tragic work in a free style, a character ballet whose story -was moving, but a ballet in which I never felt music and movement quite -came together. The score was the orchestral piece, <i>En Saga</i>, by Jan -Sibelius.</p> - -<p>The new work, <i>Pineapple Poll</i>, was the second ballet of the evening. I -was enchanted with it. I had always been a Sullivan admirer, and here -were pieces from nigh on to a dozen of the Sullivan operas, woven -together with great skill and brilliant orchestration into a marvelous -integral whole by Charles Mackerras, a complete score in itself, as if -it might have been directly composed for the ballet. I watched the -dancers closely, and it was impossible for me to imagine a finer -interpretation. Elaine Fifield, in the title role, was something more -than piquant; she was a genuine <i>ballerina</i>, with a fascinating sense of -character, her whole performance highly intelligent. There was no -“mugging,” no “cuteness”; on the contrary, there were both humor and -wit, and I noted she was a beautifully “clean” dancer. David Blair was a -compelling officer, and his “hornpipe” almost on points literally -brought the house down. Three other dancers impressed me: Sheillah -O’Reilly, Stella Claire and David Poole. Osbert Lancaster’s sets were -masterful, both as sets and as architecture. This, I decided, was a -Cranko masterpiece, and it impressed me in much the same way as some of -Massine’s gay ballets.</p> - -<p><i>Pineapple Poll</i> was followed by a delicate fantasy by Cranko, <i>Beauty -and the Beast</i>, an extended <i>pas de deux</i>, set to some of Ravel’s -<i>Mother Goose Suite</i>, and beautifully danced by Patricia Miller and -David Poole, who were, I learned, a pair of South Africans from the -Sadler’s Wells School.</p> - -<p>The closing piece on the programme was another new ballet by Cranko, -<i>Pastorale</i>, which had been given its first performance earlier in the -season, just before Christmas. It was the complete antithesis of the -Sullivan ballet. This was a Mozart work, his <i>Divertimento No. 2</i>, and -choreography was Mozartian in feeling. It was a work of genuine charm, -delicacy and real humor that revealed to me the excellence of a -half-dozen of the principals of the company: Elaine Fifield and Patricia -Miller, whom I have already mentioned, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_301">{301}</a></span> young Svetlana Beriosova, -the daughter of Nicholas Beriosoff, a former member of the Ballet Russe -de Monte Carlo. Svetlana was born in Lithuania in 1932, and had been -brought to America by her parents in 1940, when, off and on, she toured -with them in the days of my management of the Massine company, and -frequently appeared as the little child, Clara, in <i>The Nutcracker</i>. Now -rapidly maturing, she had been seen by Ninette de Valois in a small -English ballet company, and had been taken into the Sadler’s Wells -organization. The three ballerinas had an equal number of impressive -partners in <i>Pastorale</i>: Pirmin Trecu, David Poole and David Blair.</p> - -<p>I decided that <i>Pineapple Poll</i>, <i>Pastorale</i> and <i>Beauty and the Beast</i> -must be included in the repertoire for America, and that the first of -these could be a tremendous American success, a sort of British <i>Gaîté -Parisienne</i>.</p> - -<p>In further conversations and conferences, I pressed the matter of a -full-length, full-evening ballet. The work I wanted was Delibes’ -<i>Sylvia</i>. This is the famous ballet first given in Paris in 1876. I -recognised there would be problems to be solved over the story, but the -Delibes score is enchanting, delicate, essentially French; and is it not -the score which Tchaikowsky himself both admired and appreciated? -Moreover, a lot of the music is very well-known and loved.</p> - -<p>We agreed upon <i>Sylvia</i> in principle, but “Freddy” Ashton, who was to -stage it, was too occupied with other work, and it was at last agreed to -substitute a new production of Delibes’ <i>Coppélia</i>, in a full-length, -uncut version, never seen in North America except in a truncated form. -It was, however, difficult indeed to achieve any progress, since every -one was occupied with work of one kind or another, and continuously -busy. Moreover, Dame Ninette was away from London in Turkey and -Jugoslavia, lecturing, teaching, and checking on the national ballet -schools she has organized in each of those countries, at the request of -their respective governments, with the cooperation of the British -Council.</p> - -<p>It was not until three o’clock one morning several weeks later that we -all managed to get together at one time and place to have a conference -on repertoire. The following day I saw another performance at the Wells, -and was a bit distressed. It was clear to me that it was going to be -necessary to increase the size of the company still further, and also to -be more selective in the choice and arrangement of the repertoire.</p> - -<p>There followed a period of intense preparation on the part of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_302">{302}</a></span> the -entire organization, with all of its attendant helter-skelter, and with -day and night rehearsals. Meanwhile, I discussed and arranged for the -production of a two-act production or version of <i>The Nutcracker</i>. The -opening scene of this Tchaikowsky classic has always bothered me, -chiefly because I felt it was dull and felt that, during its course, -nothing really happened. There is, if the reader remembers, a rather -banal Christmas party at which little Clara receives a nutcracker as a -present, goes to bed without it, comes downstairs to retrieve it, and is -forthwith transported to fairyland. I felt we would be better off to -start with fairyland, and to omit the trying prologue. Moreover, I felt -certain the inclusion of the work in this form would give added weight -to the repertoire for the North American tour, since <i>The Nutcracker</i> -and Tchaikowsky are always well-liked and popular, as the box-office -returns have proven.</p> - -<p>On this visit I spent three weeks in London, flying back to New York -only to return to London three weeks later, to watch the company and to -do what I could to speed up the preparations so that the company might -be ready for the Canadian opening of the tour, the date of which was -coming closer and closer with that inevitability such matters display.</p> - -<p>The Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet and its entire organization showed -really tremendous energy and application, and did everything possible to -prepare themselves to follow the great American success of their sister -company, something that was, admittedly, a very difficult thing to do.</p> - -<p>Just before the company’s departure for the North American continent, it -gave a four-week “American Festival Season” at Sadler’s Wells, -consisting of the entire repertoire to be seen on this side of the -Atlantic. This season included another Cranko work I have not before -mentioned. It is <i>Harlequin in April</i>, a ballet commissioned for the -Festival of Britain by the Arts Council. While I cannot say that it is -the sort of piece that appeals to audiences by reason of its clarity, -there is no gainsaying that it is a major creation and a greatly to be -commended experiment, and, withal, a successful one. The choreographic -work of John Cranko, in collaboration with the composer, Richard Arnell, -and the artist-designer, John Piper, it was that much desired thing in -ballet: a genuine collaboration between those individuals responsible -for each aspect of it.</p> - -<p>Although there was no attempt to use it as a plot idea, for it is in no -sense a “literary” work, the idea for <i>Harlequin in April</i> pre<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_303">{303}</a></span>sumably -stemmed from the following lines from T. S. Eliot’s <i>The Waste Land</i>:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">April is the cruellest month, breeding<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Memory and desire, stirring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dull roots with spring rain....<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>I could not attempt to explain the work which, to me, consists solely of -atmosphere. I liked Richard Arnell’s score; but the ballet, as a ballet, -is one I found myself unable to watch very many times. Perhaps the -simplest answer is that it is not my favorite type of ballet. -Nevertheless, the fact remains it is a work of genuine distinction and -was warmly praised by discriminating critics.</p> - -<p>The first nights of the two classical works came a week apart. -<i>Coppélia</i> was the first, on the night of the 4th September. It was, -indeed, a fine addition to the repertoire. There were, in the Sadler’s -Wells tradition, several casts; the first performance had Elaine -Fifield, as Swanilda; David Blair, as Frantz; and David Poole, as -Coppelius.</p> - -<p>I was not too happy with the three settings designed by Loudon -Sainthill, the Australian designer who had a great success at the -Shakespeare Festival Theatre, always feeling they were not sufficiently -strong either in color or design. However, as the first full-length, -uncut version of the Delibes classic, it was notable, as it also was -notable for the liveliness of its entire production and the zest and joy -the entire company brought to it. Elaine Fifield was miraculously right -as Swanilda, in her own special piquant style; David Blair was a most -attractive Frantz; and David Poole was the first dignified Coppelius I -had ever seen, with a highly original approach to the character. -Alternate casts for <i>Coppélia</i> included Svetlana Beriosova as a quite -different and very effective Swanilda, and Maryon Lane, another South -African dancer of fine talent, with a personality quite different from -the other two, as were Donald Britton’s Frantz and Stanley Holden’s -Coppelius.</p> - -<p>The 11th of September revealed the new <i>Nutcracker</i> I have mentioned. -Actually, without the Prologue, it became a series of Tchaikowsky -<i>divertissements</i>, staged with skill and taste under, as it happened, -great pressure, by Frederick Ashton. It was a two-scene work, utilizing -the Snow Flake and the Kingdom of Sweets scenes. Outstanding, to my way -of thinking, were Beriosova as the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_304">{304}</a></span> Snow Queen; Fifield and Blair in the -grand <i>pas de deux</i>; Maryon Lane in the Waltz of the Flowers. The most -original divertissement was the <i>Danse Arabe</i>.</p> - -<p>Following the first performance of <i>The Nutcracker</i>, I gave a large -party in honor of both companies: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden -Company and that from the Sadler’s Wells Theatre, at Victory Hall.</p> - -<p>In this godspeed to the sister company, Margot Fonteyn was, as usual, -very much on the job, always the good colleague, wishing Fifield and -Beriosova the same success in the States and Canada as she and her -colleagues of the Covent Garden company had enjoyed. From Covent Garden -also came David Webster, Louis Yudkin, and Herbert Hughes, “Freddy” -Ashton, and Robert Irving, the genial and able musical director of the -Ballet at Covent Garden, all to speed the sister company on its way, to -give them tips on what to see, what to do, and also on what <i>not</i> to do.</p> - -<p>The reader will, I am sure, realize what a difficult thing it was for -the sister company to follow in the footsteps and the triumphant -successes of the company from Covent Garden. A standard of excellence -and grandeur had been set by them eclipsing any previously established -standards that had existed for ballet on the North American continent.</p> - -<p>It is a moot question just what the public and the press of America -expected from the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet. For more than a year, -in all publicity and promotion, with all the means at our command, we -emphasized the differences between the two companies: in personnel, in -principal artists, in repertoire. We also carefully pointed out the -likenesses between them: the same base of operations, the same school, -the same direction, the same moving spirit, the same ideals, the same -purpose.</p> - -<p>The success of the company throughout the entire breadth of the United -States and Canada magnificently proved the wisdom of their coming. The -list of cities played is formidable: Quebec, Ottawa, Montreal, Toronto, -Buffalo, Rochester, Cleveland, Detroit, East Lansing, Grand Rapids, -Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Omaha, Des Moines, Denver, Salt Lake City, -Seattle, Portland, Vancouver, B.C., San Francisco, San José, Sacramento, -Fresno, Bakersfield, Los Angeles, San Antonio, Waco, Houston, Dallas, -Shreveport, Little Rock, Springfield, Mo., Kansas City, Chicago, St. -Louis, Nashville, Knoxville, Atlanta, Birmingham, Montgomery, New -Orleans, Day<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_305">{305}</a></span>tona Beach, Orlando, Miami, and Miami Beach, Columbia, -Greensboro, Durham, Raleigh, Norfolk, Richmond, Washington—where for -the first time ballet played in a proper theatre—Philadelphia, -Pittsburgh, Columbus, Toledo, Cincinnati, Indianapolis, Syracuse, Troy, -White Plains, Providence, Hartford, Boston, and New York City. Perhaps -the most characteristic tribute to the company came from Alfred -Frankenstein, the distinguished critic of the <i>San Francisco Chronicle</i>, -who wrote: “This may not be the largest ballet company in the world, but -it is certainly the most endearing.” There is no question that the -mounting demand for the quick return of the company on the part of local -managers and sponsoring organizations and groups throughout the country -is another proof of the warmth of their welcome when they next come.</p> - -<p>The musical side of the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet revealed the same -high standards of the organization, under the direction of that splendid -young British conductor, John Lanchbery. Lanchbery, a thorough and -distinguished musician, not only was a fine conductor, but an extremely -sensitive ballet conductor, which is not necessarily the same thing. So -admired was he by the orchestra that, in San Francisco, the players -presented him with a lovely gift in a token of appreciation.</p> - -<p>During the entire association with the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet -there was always the warm cooperation of George Chamberlain, and the -fine executive ability and personal charm of their tour manager, Douglas -Morris.</p> - -<p>It is my sincere hope that, following the season 1953-54, they will be -able to make an even more extended tour of this continent. By that time, -some of the company’s younger members will have become more mature, and -the repertoire will have been strengthened and increased by the -accretion of two years.</p> - -<p>There is the seemingly eternal charge against ballet dancers. They are -either “too young” or else “too old.” The question I am forced to ask in -this connection is: What is the appropriate age for the personnel of a -ballet company, for a dancer? My answer is one the reader may anticipate -from previous references to the subject in this book: Artistry knows and -recognizes no age on the stage. Spiritually the same is true in life -itself.</p> - -<p>It is, of course, possible that, by that time, there may be some who -will refrain from referring to the members of the company as “juniors,” -and will realize that they are aware of the facts of life.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_306">{306}</a></span> Three years -will have elapsed since their first visit. During all this time they -will have been dancing regularly five or six times a week; will have -behind them not only London successes, but their Edinburgh Festival and -African triumphs as well.</p> - -<p>At the close of the American Festival Season in Rosebery Avenue, the -company entrained for Liverpool, there to embark in the <i>Empress of -France</i>. It was a gay crossing, but less gay than had been anticipated. -Originally, the <i>Empress</i> was to have carried H.R.H. Princess Elizabeth, -and her husband, the Duke of Edinburgh, on their Royal Visit to the -Dominion of Canada. The ship’s owners, the Canadian Pacific Steamship -Company, had constructed a specially equipped theatre on the top deck, -where the company was to have given two performances for the Royal -couple. H.R.H., Princess Margaret is the Honorary President of the -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet, and there is considerable royal interest -in ballet. Unfortunately, the serious illness of the King, and his -operation, necessitated a last moment change of plans on the part of -Princess Elizabeth and her husband, who made their crossing by plane. At -the last moment before sailing, the theatre was dismantled and removed.</p> - -<p>Two members of my staff made a long journey down the St. Lawrence, to -clamber aboard the <i>Empress</i> at daybreak and to travel up the river with -the company to Quebec, the opening point of the tour. I had gone on to -Quebec to greet them, as had our American staff and orchestra from New -York. This was the same orchestra, the “American Sadler’s Wells -Orchestra,” that had constituted the splendid musical side of the Covent -Garden company’s two American seasons. There was no cutting of corners, -no sparing of expense to maintain the same high standards of production. -For those with an interest in figures, it might be noted that the -orchestra alone cost in excess of $10,000 weekly.</p> - -<p>Heading the company, and remaining with it until it was well on its way, -were Dame Ninette de Valois and George Chamberlain, with Peggy van -Praagh as “Madame’s” assistant, and ballet-mistress for the entire tour.</p> - -<p>There were three days of concentrated rehearsal and preparation before -the first performance in Quebec. Some difficulties had to be overcome, -for Quebec City is not the ideal place for ballet production. Lacking a -real theatre or opera house, a cinema had to be utilized, a house with a -stage far from adequate for a theatre spec<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_307">{307}</a></span>tacle, an orchestra pit far -too small for an orchestra the size of ours, and cramped quarters all -around. Nevertheless, a genuine success was scored.</p> - -<p>Following the Quebec engagement, the company moved to Ottawa by special -train—this time the “Sadler’s Wells Theatre Special.” The night journey -to Ottawa provided many of the company with their first experience of -sleeping-car travel of the American-type Pullman. Passing through one of -the cars on the way to my drawing-room before the train pulled out, I -overheard one of the <i>corps de ballet</i> girls behind her green curtains, -obviously snuggling down for the night, sigh and say: “Oh, isn’t it just -lovely!... Just like in the films!”</p> - -<p>Ottawa was in its gayest attire, preparing for the Royal visit. The -atmosphere was festive. The Governor General and the Viscountess -Alexander of Tunis entertained the entire company at a reception at -Government House, flew afterwards to Montreal officially to welcome the -Royal couple, and flew back to attend the opening performance, as the -official representative of H.M. the King. Hundreds were turned away from -the Ottawa performances, and a particularly gay supper was given the -company after the final performance by the High Commissioner to Canada -for Great Britain, Sir Hugh and Lady Clutterbuck.</p> - -<p>Montreal, with its mixed French and English population, gave the company -a wholehearted acceptance and warm enthusiasm, by no means second to -that accorded the sister company.</p> - -<p>So the tour went, breaking box-office records for ballet in many cities, -including Buffalo, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Seattle, Portland, Vancouver -(where, for the eight performances, there was not a seat to be had four -weeks before the company’s arrival), Los Angeles, the entire state of -Florida, and Washington, where, as I have said, I had been successful in -securing a genuine theatre, Loew’s Capitol, and where, for the first -time ballet was seen by the inhabitants of our national capital with all -the theatrical appurtenances that ballet requires: scenery, lights, -atmosphere, instead of the mausoleum-like Constitution Hall, with its -bare platform backed only by a tapestry of the Founding Fathers.</p> - -<p>So the tour went for twenty-two weeks in a long, transcontinental -procession of cumulative success, with the finale in New York City. -Here, because of the unavailability of the Metropolitan Opera House, -since the current opera season had not been completed, it<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_308">{308}</a></span> was necessary -to go to a film house, the Warner Theatre, the former Strand, where -Fokine and Anatole Bourman had, in the early days of movie house -“presentations,” staged weekly ballet performances, sowing the seeds for -present-day ballet appreciation.</p> - -<p>The Warner Theatre was far from ideal for ballet presentation, being -much too long for its width, giving from the rear the effect of looking -at the stage through reversed opera glasses or binoculars. Also, from an -acoustical point of view, the house left something to be desired as it -affected the sound of the exceptionally large orchestra. But it was the -only nearly suitable house available, and Ninette de Valois, who had -returned to the States for the Boston engagement, and had remained -through the early New York performances, found no fault with the house.</p> - -<p>Among the many problems in connection with the presentation of ballet, -none is more ticklish than that of determining on an opening night -programme in any metropolitan center, particularly New York. Many -elements have to be weighed one against the other. Should the choice be -one of a selection of one-act ballets, there is the necessity for -balancing classical and modern and the order in which they should be -given, after they have actually been decided on. In the case of the -Sadler’s Wells companies, featuring, as they do, full-length works -occupying an entire evening in performance, there is the eternal -question: which one?</p> - -<p>The importance of the first impression created cannot be overrated. More -often than not, in arriving at a decision of this kind, we listen to the -advice of everyone in the organization. All suggestions are carefully -considered, and hours are spent in discussion and the exchange of ideas, -and the reasons supporting those ideas.</p> - -<p>What was good in London may quite well be fatal in New York. What New -York would find an ideal opening programme might be utterly wrong for -Chicago. San Francisco’s highly successful and popular opening night -programme well might turn out to be Los Angeles’ poison.</p> - -<p>Whatever the decision may be, it is always arrived at after long and -careful thought; and, when reached, it is the best product of many -minds. It usually turns out to be wrong.</p> - -<p>If, as is often the case, the second night’s programme turns out to be -another story, there is the almost inevitable query on the part of the -critics: “Why didn’t you do this last night?” Many of them seem to be -certain that there must have been personal reasons in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_309">{309}</a></span>volved in the -decision, some sort of private and individually colored favoritism being -exercised....</p> - -<p>I smile and agree.</p> - -<p>The only possible answer is: “You’re right.... I’m wrong.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_310">{310}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a id="c_13">Epilogue: Unborn Tomorrow<br /></a> -</h2> -<hr class="lft" /> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span><b>N</b> the minds of many I am almost always associated with ballet more -frequently than I am with any other activity in the world of -entertainment.</p> - -<p>This simply is not true.</p> - -<p>While it is true that more than thirty years of my life have been -intensely occupied with the presentation of dance on the North American -continent, these thirty-odd years of preoccupation with the dance have -neither narrowed my horizon nor limited my interests. I have -simultaneously carried on my avowed determination, arrived at and -clarified soon after I landed as an immigrant lad from Pogar: to bring -music to the masses. As an impresario I am devoted to my concert -artists.</p> - -<p>The greatest spiritual satisfaction I have had has always sprung from -great music, and it has been and is my joy to present great violinists, -pianists, vocalists; to extend the careers of conductors; to give -artists of the theatre a wider public. All these have been and are -leaders in their various fields. My eyes and ears are ever open to -discover fresh new talents in this garden for nurturing and development. -At no time in the history of so-called civilization and civilized man -have they been more necessary.</p> - -<p>Throughout my career my interests have embraced the lyric and -“legitimate” theatres: witness the Russian Opera Company, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_311">{311}</a></span> German -Opera Company, American operetta seasons, <i>revues</i> such as the Spanish -<i>Cablagata</i>, and Katherine Dunham’s Caribbean compilations, as but two -of many; the Habima Theatre, in 1926, the Moscow Art Players, under -Michael Tchekhoff, in 1935, as representative of the latter.</p> - -<p>These activities have been extended, with increasing interest towards a -widening of cultural exchanges with the rest of the world: witness the -most recent highly successful season of the Madeleine Renault-Jean Louis -Barrault repertory company from Paris. For two seasons, the -distinguished British actor, director, and playwright, Emlyn Williams, -under my management, has brought to life, from coast to coast, the -incomparable prose of Charles Dickens in theatrical presentations that -have fascinated both ear and eye, performances that stemmed from a rare -combination of talent, dexterity, love, and intelligence.</p> - -<p>I am able to say, very frankly, that I am one impresario who has managed -artists in all fields.</p> - -<p>All these things, and more, have been done. For what they are worth, -they have been written in the pages of the history of the arts in our -time. They have become a part of the record.</p> - -<p>So it will be seen that only one part of my life has been concerned with -ballet. To list all the fine concert artists and companies I have -managed and manage would take up too much space.</p> - -<p>It is quite within the bounds of possibility that I shall do a third -book, devoted to life among the concert artists I have managed. It -could, I am sure, make interesting reading.</p> - -<p>If art is to grow and prosper, if the eternal verities are to be -preserved in these our times and into that unborn tomorrow which springs -eternally from dead yesterdays, there must be no cessation of effort, no -diminution of our energies. Thirty-odd years of dead yesterdays have -served only to whet my appetite, to stimulate my eagerness for what lies -round the corner and my desire to increase my contribution to those -things that matter in the cultural and spiritual life of that unborn -tomorrow wherein lies our future.</p> - -<p>I shall try to outline some of the plans and hopes I have in mind. -Before I do so, however, I should like to make what must be, however -heartfelt, inadequate acknowledgement to those who have so generously -helped along the way. If I were to list all of them, this chapter would -become a catalogue of names. To all of those who are not mentioned, my -gratitude is none the less sincere and genuine.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_312">{312}</a></span> Above all, no slight is -intended. Space permits only the singling out of a few.</p> - -<p>The year in which these lines are written has been singularly rich, -rewarding, and happy: climaxed as it was by the production and release -of the motion-picture film, <i>Tonight We Sing</i>, based on some experiences -and aspects of my life. If the film does nothing else, I hope it -succeeds in underlining the difference, in explaining the vast gulf that -separates the mere booker or agent from what, for want of a better term, -must be called an impresario, since it is a word that has been fully -embraced into the English language. Impresario stems from the Italian -<i>impresa</i>: an undertaking; indirectly it gave birth to that now archaic -English word “emprise,” literally a chivalrous enterprise. I can only -regard the discovery, promotion, presentation of talent, the financing -of it, the risk-taking, as the “emprise” of an “impresario.”</p> - -<p>The presentation of this film has been accompanied by tributes and -honors for which I am deeply and humbly grateful and which I cherish and -respect beyond my ability to express.</p> - -<p>None of these heights could have been scaled, none of these successes -attained, without the help, encouragement, and personal sacrifice of my -beloved wife, Emma. Her wise counsel in music, literature, theatre, and -the dance all stem from her deep knowledge as a lady of culture, an -artist and a musician, and from her studies at the Leningrad -Conservatory, her rich experience in the world’s cultural activities. -Her sacrifices are those great ones of the patient, understanding wife, -who, through the years, has had to endure, and has endured without -complaint, the loneliness of days and nights on end alone, when my -activities have taken me on frequent long trips about the world at a -moment’s notice, to the complete disruption of any normal family life.</p> - -<p>To my wife also goes my grateful thanks for restraining me from -undertakings doomed in advance to failure, as well as for encouraging me -in my determination to venture into pastures new and untried.</p> - -<p>At the head of that staff of loyal associates which carries on the -multifarious details of the organization on which depends the -fulfillment of much of what has been recited in these pages, is one to -whom my deepest thanks are due. She is that faithful and indispensable -companion of failures and successes, Mae Frohman.</p> - -<p>She is known intimately to all in this world of music and dance.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_313">{313}</a></span> -Without her aid I could not have been what I am today. It is impossible -for me to give the reader any real idea of the sacrifices she has made -for the success of the enterprises this book records: the sleepless -nights and days; the readiness, at an instant’s notice, to depart for -any part of the world to “trouble-shoot,” to make arrangements, to -settle disputes, to keep the wheels in motion when matters have come to -a dead center.</p> - -<p>The devoted staff I have mentioned, and on whom I rely much more than -they realize, receives, as is its due, my deep gratitude and -appreciation. I cannot fail to thank my daughter Ruth for her -understanding, her sympathy, her spiritual support. With all the changes -in her personal life and with her own problems, there has never been a -word of complaint. Never has she added her hardships to mine. It has -been her invariable custom to present her happiest side to me: to -comfort, to understand. In her and my two lovely grandchildren, I find a -comfort not awarded every traveller through this tortuous vale, and I -want to extend my sincere gratitude to her.</p> - -<p>It would not be possible for any one to have attained these successes -without the very great help of others. In rendering my gratitude to my -staff, I must point out that this applies not only to those who are a -part of my organization as these lines are written, but to those who -have been associated with me in the past, in the long, upward struggle. -We are still friends, and my gratitude to them and my admiration for -them is unbounded.</p> - -<p>During the many years covered in this account, my old friend and -colleague, Marks Levine, and I have shared one roof businesswise, and -one world spiritually and artistically. Without his warm friendship, his -subtle understanding, his wholehearted cooperation, and his rare sense -of humor, together with the help of his colleagues, and that of O. O. -Bottorf and his colleagues, many of the successes of a lifetime might -not have been accomplished.</p> - -<p>At this point in my life, I look with amazement at the record of an -immigrant lad from Pogar, arriving here practically penniless, and ask -myself: where in the world could this have happened save here? My -profoundest thanks go to this adopted country which has done so much for -me. Daily I breathe the prayer: “God bless this country!”</p> - -<p>In all that has been done and accomplished, and with special reference -to all of these wide-flung ballet tours, none of it could have been done -singlehanded. In nearly every country and in nearly<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_314">{314}</a></span> every important -city there is a person who is materially responsible for the success of -the local engagement. Local engagements cumulatively make or break a -tour.</p> - -<p>This person is the local manager: that local resident who is often the -cultural mentor of the community of which he is an important member. It -is he who makes it possible for the members of his community to hear the -leading concert artists and musical organizations and to see and enjoy -ballet at its best. In these days of increasing encroachment on the part -of mechanical, push-button entertainment, it is the local manager to -whom the public must look for the preservation of the “live” culture: -the singer, the instrumentalist, the actor, the dancer, the painter, the -orchestra.</p> - -<p>In the early days of my managerial activities, when I did not have an -office of my own, merely desk space in the corner of a room in the -Chandler Building, in West Forty-Second Street, I shall never forget the -“daddy” of all the local managers, the late L. H. Behymer, of Los -Angeles, who traveled three thousand miles just to see what sort of -creature it was, this youngster who was bringing music to the masses at -the old New York Hippodrome. A life-long bond was formed between us, and -“Bee” and his hard-working wife, throughout their long and honorable -careers as purveyors of the finest in musical and dance art to the -Southwest, remained my loyal and devoted friends.</p> - -<p>This applies equally to all those workers in the vineyard, from East to -West, from North to South, in Europe and South America. It is the -friendly, personal cooperation of the local managers that helps make it -possible to present so successfully artists and companies across the -continent and the world we know. It is my very great pleasure each year, -at the close of their annual meetings in New York, to meet them, rub -shoulders, clasp hands, and discuss mutual problems.</p> - -<p>The music and ballet lovers of the United States and Canada owe these -people a debt; and when readers across the breadth of this great -continent watch these folk—men and women, often helped out by their -wives, their husbands, their children, striving to provide the finest -available in the music and dance arts for their respective -communities—do not imagine that they are necessarily accumulating -wealth by their activities. More often than not, they work late and long -for an idea and an ideal for very little material gain.</p> - -<p>Remember, if you will, that it is the industrious and enlightened<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_315">{315}</a></span> local -manager, the college dean, the theatre manager, the public-spirited -women’s clubs and philanthropic organizations that make your music and -dance possible.</p> - -<p>In the arts as in life, amidst the blaze of noon there are watchers for -the dawn, awaiting the unborn tomorrow. I am of them. This book may, -conceivably, have something of historical value in portraying events and -persons, things and colleagues who have been, at one and the same time, -motivating factors in the development and growth and appreciation of the -dance in our sector of the western world. Though it has dealt, for the -most part, with an era that is receding, I have tried not to look back -either with nostalgia or regret. At the same time, I have tried not to -view the era through rosy spectacles. As for tomorrow, I am optimistic. -Without an ingrained and deeply rooted optimism much of what this book -records could not have come to pass. Despite the lucubrations of certain -Cassandras, I find myself unable to share their pessimism for the fate -of culture in our troubled times. We shall have our ups and downs, as we -have had throughout the history of man.</p> - -<p>I hold stubbornly to the tenet that man cannot live by bread alone, and -that those things of the spirit, those joys that delight the heart and -mind and soul of man, are indestructible. On the other hand, it is by no -means an easy trick to preserve them. While I agree with Ecclesiastes -that “the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart -of fools is in the house of mirth,” I nevertheless insist that it is the -supreme task of those who would profess or attain unto wisdom to exert -their last ounce of strength to foster, preserve, and encourage the -widest possible dissemination of the cultural heritage we possess.</p> - -<p>As these closing pages are written, the Sadler’s Wells Ballet from the -Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, is poised on the threshold of its -third North American visit, with a larger company and a more varied -repertoire than ever before. The latter, in addition to works I have -noted in these pages, includes the new Coronation ballet, <i>Homage to the -Queen</i>, staged by Frederick Ashton, to a specially commissioned score by -the young English composer, Malcolm Arnold, with setting and costumes by -Oliver Messel; <i>The Shadow</i>, with choreography by John Cranko, scenery -and costumes by John Piper, and the music is Erno von Dohnanyi’s <i>Suite -in F Sharp Minor</i>, which had its first performance at the Royal Opera -House, Covent Garden, on 3rd March, 1953. Included, of course, is<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_316">{316}</a></span> the -new full-length production of <i>Le Lac des Cygnes</i>, with an entirely new -production by Leslie Hurry; <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i>; <i>Sylvia</i>; <i>Giselle</i>, -in an entirely new setting by James Bailey; <i>Les Patineurs</i>; a revival -of Ashton’s <i>Don Juan</i>; and Ravel’s <i>Daphnis and Chloe</i>, staged by -Ashton, making use of the full choral score for the first time in ballet -in America.</p> - -<p>Yet another impending dance venture and yet an additional aspect of -dance pioneering will be the first trans-continental tour of the Agnes -de Mille Dance Theatre. This is a project that has been in my mind for -more than a decade: the creation of an American dance theatre, with this -country’s most outstanding dance director at its head. For years I have -been an admirer of Agnes de Mille and the work she has done for ballet -in America, and for the native dance and dancer. In this, as in all my -activities, I have not solicited funds nor sought investors.</p> - -<p>It is the first major organization to be established completely under my -aegis, for which I have taken sole responsibility, financially and -productionwise. It has long been my dream to form a veritable American -dance company, one which could exhibit the qualities which make our -native dancers unique: joy in sheer movement, wit, exuberance, a sharp -sense of drama.</p> - -<p>It was in 1948 that Agnes and I began the long series of discussions -directed toward the creation of a completely new and “different” -company, one that would place equal accents on “Dance” and “Theatre.”</p> - -<p>For the new company Agnes has devised a repertoire ranging from the -story of an Eighteenth-Century philanderer through Degas-inspired -comments on the Romantic Era, to scenes from <i>Paint Your Wagon</i>, and -<i>Brigadoon</i>. Utilizing spoken dialogue and song, the whole venture moves -towards something new under the sun—both in Dance and in Theatre.</p> - -<p>The settings and costumes have been designed and created by Peggy Clark -and Motley; with the orchestrations and musical arrangements by Trudi -Rittman.</p> - -<p>With the new organization, Agnes will have freedom to experiment in what -may well turn out to be a new form of dance entertainment, setting a -group of theatre dances both balletic and otherwise, with her own -personalized type of dance movement, and a group of ballad singers, all -in a distinctly native idiom.</p> - -<p>In New York City, on the 15th January, 1954, I plan to inaugu<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_317">{317}</a></span>rate a -trans-continental tour of the Roland Petit Ballet Company, from Paris, -with new creations, and the quite extraordinary Colette Marchand, as his -chief <i>ballerina</i>.</p> - -<p>In February, 1954, I shall extend my international dance activities to -Japan, when I shall bring that nation’s leading dance organization, the -Japanese Dancers and Musicians, for their first American tour. With this -fine group of artists, I shall be able to present America for the first -time with a native art product of the late Seventeenth century that is -the theatre of the commoner, stemming from Kabuki, meaning -“song-dance-skill.”</p> - -<p>The autumn of 1954 will see a still further extension of my activities, -with the introduction of the first full Spanish ballet to be seen on the -North American continent.</p> - -<p>We have long been accustomed to the Spanish dancer and the dance -concerts of distinguished Iberian artists; but never before have -Americans been exposed to Spanish ballet in its full panoply, with a -large and numerous company, complete with scenery, costumes, and a large -orchestra. It has long been my dream to present such an organization.</p> - -<p>At last it has been realized, when I shall send from coast to coast the -Antonio Ballet Espagnol, which I saw and greatly admired on my visit to -Granada in the summer of 1953.</p> - -<p>On the purely musical side, there is a truly remarkable chamber ensemble -from Italy, which will also highlight the season of 1954. It is I -Musici, an ensemble of twelve players, ranging through the string -family, including the ancient <i>viola di gamba</i>, and sustained by the -<i>cymbalon</i>; and specializing in early Italian music, for the greater -part. This organization has the high and warm recommendation of Arturo -Toscanini, who vastly admires them and their work.</p> - -<p>I have reserved, in the manner of the host holding back the most -delectable items of a feast until the last, two announcements as -climactic.</p> - -<p>I have concluded arrangements with England’s Old Vic to present on the -North American continent their superlative new production of -Shakespeare’s <i>A Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>, staged by Michael Benthall, -with really magnificent settings and costumes by James Bailey.</p> - -<p>The cast will include Robert Helpmann, as Oberon, and Moira Shearer, as -Titania, with outstanding and distinguished British actors in the other -roles; and, utilizing the full Mendelssohn score, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_318">{318}</a></span> production will -have a ballet of forty, choreographed by Robert Helpmann.</p> - -<p>The production will be seen at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, -in mid-September, 1954, for a season, to be followed by a short tour of -the leading cities of the United States and Canada.</p> - -<p>This will, I feel, be one of the most significant artistic productions -to be revealed across the continent since the days of Max Reinhardt’s -<i>The Miracle</i>. It gives me great personal satisfaction to be able to -offer this first of the new productions of London’s famous Old Vic.</p> - -<p>The other choice tid-bit to which I feel American dance lovers will look -forward with keen anticipation is the coast-to-coast tour of London’s -Festival Ballet with Toumanova as guest star.</p> - -<p>The Festival Ballet was founded by Anton Dolin for the British Festival, -under the immediate patronage of H.H. Princess Marie Louise. Dr. Julian -Braunsweg is its managing director.</p> - -<p>It has grown steadily in stature and is today one of Europe’s best known -ballet companies. Under the artistic direction of Anton Dolin it has -appeared with marked success for several seasons at the Royal Festival -Hall, London; has toured Britain, all western Europe; and, in the spring -of 1953, gave a highly successful two weeks’ season in Montreal and -Toronto, where it received as high critical approval as ever accorded -any ballet company in Canada.</p> - -<p>There is a company of eighty, and a repertoire of evenly balanced -classics and modern creations, including, among others, the following: a -full-length <i>Nutcracker</i>, <i>Giselle</i>, <i>Petrouchka</i>, <i>Swan Lake</i>, (<i>Act -I</i>), <i>Le Beau Danube</i>, <i>Schéhérazade</i>, <i>Symphonic Impressions</i>, <i>Pas de -Quatre</i>, <i>Bolero</i>, <i>Black Swan</i>, <i>Vision of Marguerite</i>, <i>Symphony for -Fun</i>, <i>Pantomime Harlequinade</i>, <i>Don Quixote</i>, <i>Les Sylphides</i>, <i>Le -Spectre de la Rose</i>, <i>Prince Igor</i>, <i>Concerto Grosso</i>.</p> - -<p>This international exchange of ballet companies is one of the bulwarks -of mutual understanding and sympathy. It is a source of deep -gratification to me that I have been instrumental in bringing the -companies of the Sadler’s Wells organization, the Ballet of the Paris -Opera, and others to North America, as it is that I have been able to be -of service in arranging for the two visits of the New York City Ballet -to London. It is through the medium of such exchanges, presenting no -language barriers, but offering beauty as a common bond, that we are -able to bridge those hideous chasms so often<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_319">{319}</a></span> caused by misunderstood -and, too often, unwise and thoughtlessly chosen words.</p> - -<p>In unborn tomorrows I hope to extend these exchanges to include not only -Europe, but our sister republics to the South, and the Far East, with -whom now, more than ever, cultural rapport is necessary. We are now -reaching a time in America when artistic achievement has become -something more than casual entertainment, although, in my opinion, -artistic endeavor must never lose sight of the fact that entertainment -there must be if that public so necessary to the well-being of any art -is not to be alienated. The role of art and the artist is, through -entertainment, to stimulate and, through the creative spirit, to help -the audience renew its faith and courage in beauty, in universal ideals, -in love, in a richer and fuller imaginative life. Then, and only then, -can the audience rise above the mundane, the mediocre, the monotonous.</p> - -<p>During the thirty-odd years I have labored on the American musical and -balletic scene, I have seen a growth of interest and appreciation that -has been little short of phenomenal. Yet I note, with deep regret, that -today the insecurities of living for art and the artist have by no means -lessened. Truth hinges solely on the harvest, and how may that harvest -be garnered with no security and no roof?</p> - -<p>More than once in the pages of this book I have underlined and lamented -the passing of the great, generous Maecenas, the disappearance, through -causes that require no reiteration, of such figures as Otto H. Kahn, -whose open-hearted and open-pursed generosity contributed so inestimably -to the lyric and balletic art of dead yesterday. I have detailed at some -length the government support provided for the arts by our financially -less fortunate cousins of Great Britain, South America, and Europe. The -list of European countries favoring the arts could be extended into a -lengthy catalogue of nations ranging from Scandinavia to the -Mediterranean, on both sides of that unhappy screen, the “Iron Curtain.”</p> - -<p>Here in the United States, the situation becomes steadily grimmer. -Almost every artistic enterprise worth its salt and scene painter, its -bread and choreographer, its meat and conductor, is in the perpetual -necessity of sitting on the pavement against the wall, hat in hand, -chanting the pitiful wail: “Alms, for the love of Art.” Vast quantities -of words are uttered, copious tears of regret are shed about and over -this condition at art forums, expensive cocktail parties,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_320">{320}</a></span> and on the -high stools of soda fountains. A great deal is said, but very little is -done.</p> - -<p>The answer, in my opinion, will not be found until the little voices of -the soda fountain, the forums, the cocktail parties, unite into one -superbly unanimous chorus and demand a government subsidy for the arts. -I am not so foolish as to insist that government subsidy is the complete -and final cure for all the ills to which the delicate body is heir; but -it can provide, in a great national theatre, a roof for the creative and -performing artists of ballet, opera, theatre, and music. More than -anything else, the American ballet artist needs a roof, under which to -live, to create, and hold his being in security. Such a step would be -the only positive one in the right direction.</p> - -<p>It is only through governmentally subsidized theatres, or one type of -subsidy or another, that ballet, opera, music, the legitimate theatre -may become a living and vital force in the everyday life of the American -people, may belong to the masses, instead of being merely a place of -entertainment for a relatively small section of our population. We have -before us the example of the success of government subsidy in the -British Arts Council and in the subsidized theatres of other European -countries. How can we profit by these examples?</p> - -<p>A national opera house is the first step. Such a house should not, in my -opinion, be in New York. It should, because of the size of the country, -be much more centrally situated than in our Eastern metropolis. Since -the area of Great Britain is so much smaller than the United States, our -planning of government subsidy would, of necessity, be on a much larger -scale. In many of the countries where ballet and music have the benefit -of government subsidy, government ownership of industry is an accepted -practice. Yet the government theatre subsidy is managed without stifling -private enterprise.</p> - -<p>I am quite aware that securing a national subsidy for the arts in this -country will be a long, difficult and painful process. It will require, -before all else, a campaign of education. We must have an increasing -world-consciousness, a better understanding of our fellow humans. We -must develop a nation of well-educated and, above all, thinking people, -who will do everything in their power to make a full-rounded life -available to every man and woman in the nation.</p> - -<p>Only during the days of the WPA, in the ’30’s, has the United States -government ever evinced any particular interest in the arts. I cannot -hope that the present materialistic attitude of our law<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_321">{321}</a></span>makers will -cause them to look with much favor on things of the spirit. The attitude -of our government towards the arts is noteworthy only for its complete -lack of interest in them or care for them. In the arts, and notably in -the ballet, it has the most formidable means and potential material for -cultural propaganda. The stubbornness with which it insists upon -ignoring the only aspect of American cultural life that would really -impress and influence Europe is something that is, to me, incredible. It -is a rather sad picture. How long will it take us in our educational -process to understand that in the unborn tomorrow we, as a nation, will -be remembered only through our art rather than through our materialism -and our gadgets?</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, excellent and highly valuable assistance is being given by -such Foundations as the Ford Foundation and the Rockefeller Foundation. -The latter’s contribution to the New York City Center has been of -inestimable help to that organization.</p> - -<p>Certain municipalities, through such groups as the San Francisco Art -Commission, financed on the basis of four mills on the dollar from the -city tax revenues, the Art Commission of the County of Los Angeles, the -City of Philadelphia, among others, are making generous and valuable -contributions to the musical and artistic life of their communities.</p> - -<p>There are still to be mentioned those loyal and generous friends of the -arts who have contributed so splendidly to the appeals of orchestras -throughout the country, of the Metropolitan Opera Company, and the New -York City Center.</p> - -<p>But this, I fear, is not enough. The genuinely unfortunate aspect of the -overall situation is that we are so pitifully unable to supply an outlet -for our own extraordinary talent. For example, at an audition I attended -in Milan, out of the twenty-eight singers heard, sixteen of them were -Americans. This is but further evidence that our American talent is -still forced to go to Europe to expand, to develop, and to exhibit their -talents; in short, to get a hearing.</p> - -<p>In Italy today, with a population of approximately 48,000,000, there are -now some seventy-two full-fledged opera companies.</p> - -<p>In pre-war Germany with an approximate population of 70,000,000, there -were one hundred forty-two opera houses, all either municipally or -nationally subsidized.</p> - -<p>Any plan for government subsidy of the arts must be a carefully thought -out and extensive one. It should start with a roof, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_322">{322}</a></span>beginning slowly -and expanding gradually, until, from beneath that roof-tree, companies -and organizations would deploy throughout the entire country and, -eventually, the world. Eventually, in addition to ballet, music, opera, -and theatre, it should embrace all the creative arts. Education in the -arts must be included in the subsidization, so that the teacher, the -instructor, the professor may be regarded as equal in importance to -doctors, lawyers, engineers, and politicians, instead of being regarded -as failures, as they so often regrettably are.</p> - -<p>Until the unborn tomorrow dawns when we can find leaders whose -understanding of these things is not drowned out by the thunder of -material prosperity and the noise of jostling humanity, leaders with the -vision and the foresight to see the benefit to the country and the world -from this kind of thing, and who, in addition to understanding and -knowing these things, possess the necessary courage and the -indispensable stamina to see things through, we shall have to continue -to fight the fight, to grasp any friendly hand, and, I fear, continue to -watch the sorry spectacle of the arts squatting in the market-place, -basket in lap, begging for alms for beauty.</p> - -<p>So long as I am spared, I shall never cease to present the best in all -the arts, so that the great public may have them to enjoy and cherish; -so that the artists may be helped to attain some degree of that security -they so richly deserve, against that day when an enlightened nation can -provide them a home and the security that goes with it.</p> - -<p>With all those who are of it, and all those whose lives are made a -little less onerous, a little more tolerable, to whom it brings glimpses -of a brighter unborn tomorrow, I repeat my united hurrah: Three Cheers -for Good Ballet!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_323">{323}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</h2> -<hr class="lrt1" /> - -<p class="c"><a href="#A">A</a>, -<a href="#B">B</a>, -<a href="#C">C</a>, -<a href="#D">D</a>, -<a href="#E">E</a>, -<a href="#F">F</a>, -<a href="#G">G</a>, -<a href="#H">H</a>, -<a href="#I">I</a>, -<a href="#J">J</a>, -<a href="#K">K</a>, -<a href="#L">L</a>, -<a href="#M">M</a>, -<a href="#N">N</a>, -<a href="#O">O</a>, -<a href="#P">P</a>, -<a href="#Q">Q</a>, -<a href="#R">R</a>, -<a href="#S">S</a>, -<a href="#T">T</a>, -<a href="#U">U</a>, -<a href="#V">V</a>, -<a href="#W">W</a>, -<a href="#Y">Y</a>, -<a href="#Z">Z</a></p> - -<p class="nind"> -<a id="A"></a>Abbey Theatre (Dublin), <a href="#page_217">217</a><br /> - -Academy of Music (Brooklyn), <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Adam, Adolphe, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -Adelphi Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -<i>Aglae or The Pupil of Love</i>, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Aldrich, Richard, <a href="#page_23">23</a><br /> - -<i>Alegrias</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -<i>Aleko</i>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Alexander of Tunis, Viscount and Viscountess, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> - -Alhambra Theatre (London), <a href="#page_111">111</a><br /> - -<i>Alice in Wonderland</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Alicia Markova, Her Life and Art</i>, <a href="#page_205">205</a><br /> - -All Star Imperial Russian Ballet, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Alonso, Alicia, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<i>Ambassador</i> (a publication), <a href="#page_231">231</a><br /> - -Ambassador Hotel (Los Angeles), <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Amberg, George, <a href="#page_112">112</a><br /> - -American Ballet, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -American Federation of Musicians, <a href="#page_62">62</a><br /> - -<i>Amoun and Berenice</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -André, Grand Duke of Russia, <a href="#page_69">69</a><br /> - -Andreu, Mariano, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Andreyev, Leonide, <a href="#page_285">285</a><br /> - -<i>Antic, The</i>, <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -<i>Antiche Danze ed Arie</i>, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Antonio Ballet Espagnol, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -<i>Aphrodite</i>, <a href="#page_93">93</a><br /> - -<i>Apollon Musagète</i>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Apparitions</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -<i>Apres-Midi d’un Faune, L’</i> (<i>Afternoon of a Faun</i>), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a><br /> - -Arbeau, Thoinot, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Archives Internationales de la Danse, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Arensky, Anton, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Argentina, <a href="#page_47">47</a><br /> - -Argentinita (Encarnacion Lopez), <a href="#page_53">53-58</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Argyle, Pearl, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -Armstrong, John, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -Arnell, Richard, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Arnold, Malcolm, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Art Commission of the County of Los Angeles, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -Asafieff, Boris, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Ashcroft, Peggy, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -Ashton, Frederick, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_268">268-272</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Astafieva, Seraphine, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Atlee, Clement, <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> - -<i>Aubade</i>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>Aubade Heroique</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -<i>Assembly Ball</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Auber, Francois, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Auditorium Theatre (Chicago), <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> - -Auric, Georges, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Aurora’s Wedding</i>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Avril Kentridge Medal, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -Aveline, Albert, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Azayae</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="B"></a>Bacchanale</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Bach, Johann Sebastian, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -<i>Bahiana</i>, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Bailey, James, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -<i>Baiser de la Fée</i> (<i>The Fairy’s Kiss</i>), <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Bakst, Leon, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a><br /> - -<i>Bal, Le</i> (<i>The Ball</i>), <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Balabile</i>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Balakireff, Mily, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Balanchine, George (Georgi Balanchivadze), <a href="#page_65">65</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Baldina, Maria, <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -Balieff, Nikita, <a href="#page_49">49</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a><br /> - -Ballet and Opera Russe de Paris, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> - -Ballet Associates in America, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Ballet Benevolent Fund, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> - -Ballet Club (London), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Ballet Go-Round</i>, <a href="#page_205">205</a><br /> - -<i>Ballet Imperial</i>, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -Ballet Intime, <a href="#page_90">90</a><br /> - -<i>Ballet Mecanique</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Ballet Rambert, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo (special reference; de Basil), <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a><br /> - -Ballets 1933, Les, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -Ballet Theatre Foundation, <a href="#page_179">179</a><br /> - -Ballet Theatre (known in Europe as “American National Ballet Theatre”), <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>, <a href="#page_147">147-182</a>, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -<i>Balustrade</i>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Bandbox Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -Banks, Margaret, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -<i>Barbara</i>, <a href="#page_50">50</a><br /> - -Barbiroli, Sir John, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -Bardin, Micheline, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Baronova, Irina, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Barrault, Jean Louis, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -<i>Barrelhouse</i>, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Barrientos, Maria, <a href="#page_95">95</a><br /> - -Bartok, Bela, <a href="#page_175">175</a><br /> - -Baylis, Lilian, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Beaton, Cecil, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Beau Danube, Le</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Beaumont, Count Etienne de, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Beauty and the Beast</i>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -Beecham, Sir Thomas, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> - -Beethoven, Ludwig von, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_30">30</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Begitchev, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Behymer, Mr. and Mrs. L. H., <a href="#page_314">314</a><br /> - -Belasco, David, <a href="#page_97">97</a><br /> - -<i>Belle Hélene, La</i>, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Belle, James Cleveland, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a><br /> - -Bellini, Vincenzo, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Belmont, Mrs. August, <a href="#page_230">230</a><br /> - -<i>Beloved One, The</i>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Benavente, Jacinto, <a href="#page_57">57</a><br /> - -Bennett, Robert Russell, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Benois, Alexandre, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a><br /> - -Benois, Nadia, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Benthall, Michael, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Bérard, Christian, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Berlioz, Hector, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -Beriosoff, Nicholas, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -Beriosova, Svetlana, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Berman, Eugene, <a href="#page_137">137</a><br /> - -Berners, Lord, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Bernhardt, Sarah, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Bernstein, Leonard, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Bielsky, V., <a href="#page_95">95</a><br /> - -<i>Billy Budd</i>, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -<i>Billy the Kid</i>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Bizet, Georges, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -<i>Black Ritual</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Black Swan</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Blair, David, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Blake, William, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a><br /> - -Blareau, Richard, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Bliss, Sir Arthur, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> - -Bloch, Mrs. (Manager Loie Fuller), <a href="#page_37">37</a>, <a href="#page_38">38</a>, <a href="#page_39">39</a><br /> - -<i>Blonde Marie</i>, The, <a href="#page_50">50</a><br /> - -Blot, Robert, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Bluebeard</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a><br /> - -Blum, Léon, <a href="#page_108">108</a><br /> - -Blum, René, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a><br /> - -Boccherini, Luigi, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Bogatyri</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Bolero</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Bolm, Adolph, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_88">88-91</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a><br /> - -Bolshoi Theatre (Moscow), <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Boosey and Hawkes, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a><br /> - -Boretzky-Kasadevich, Vadim, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -Borodin, Alexander, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Borodin, George, <a href="#page_230">230</a><br /> - -Boston Opera House, <a href="#page_260">260</a><br /> - -Boston Public Library, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Boston Symphony Orchestra, <a href="#page_166">166</a><br /> - -Bottord, O. O., <a href="#page_313">313</a><br /> - -Bouchene, Dmitri, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Bouchenet, Mme., <a href="#page_196">196</a><br /> - -Boult, Sir Adrian, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -<i>Bourgeois Gentilhomme, Le</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Bourman, Anatole, <a href="#page_308">308</a><br /> - -<i>Boutique Fantasque, La</i>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Bowman, Patricia, <a href="#page_147">147</a><br /> - -Boyce, William, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Boyd Neel String Orchestra, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -Boyer, Lucienne, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Bozzini, Max, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Brae, June, <a href="#page_241">241</a><br /> - -Brahms, Johannes, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Braunsweg, Julian, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Breinin, Raymond, <a href="#page_162">162</a><br /> - -<i>Brigadoon</i>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -British Arts Council, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_287">287</a>, <a href="#page_288">288</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_320">320</a><br /> - -British Broadcasting Corporation, <a href="#page_227">227</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a><br /> - -British Council, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -British Film Institute, <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> - -British Ministry of Information, <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -Britten, Benjamin, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -Britton, Donald, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Brown, John, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Bruce, Henry, <a href="#page_73">73</a><br /> - -<i>Bulerias</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a><br /> - -Bulgakoff, Alexander, <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -<i>Burleske</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Burra, Edward, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Butsova, Hilda, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="C"></a>Cabin in the Sky</i>, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -<i>Cablagata</i>, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Cadogan, Sir Alexander, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -<i>Cain and Abel</i>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Cachucha</i>, <a href="#page_18">18</a><br /> - -<i>Camille</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Carib Song</i> (<i>Caribbean Rhapsody</i>), <a href="#page_63">63</a><br /> - -Carmela, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -<i>Carmen</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Carmita, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -<i>Carnaval</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Camargo Society (London), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -<i>Capriccio Espagnol</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Capriccioso</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Capriol Suite</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Carnegie Hall (New York), <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Caruso, Enrico, <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a><br /> - -Cassandre, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Castellanos, Julio, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Chagall, Marc, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Castle Garden (New York), <a href="#page_16">16</a><br /> - -<i>Castor and Pollux</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Caton, Edward, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Caucasian Dances</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Caucasian Sketches</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Cecchetti, Enrico, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Celli, Vincenzo, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -C. E. M. A., <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -<i>Cendrillon</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Center Theater (New York), <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a><br /> - -Century of Progress Exhibition, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Century Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_93">93</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a><br /> - -Chabrier, Emanuel, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Chaliapine, Feodor, <a href="#page_17">17</a>, <a href="#page_25">25</a>, <a href="#page_26">26</a>, <a href="#page_27">27</a>, <a href="#page_242">242</a><br /> - -Chaliapine, Lydia, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Chaliapine, “Masha,” <a href="#page_26">26</a>, <a href="#page_27">27</a><br /> - -Chamberlain, George, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_305">305</a>, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> - -<i>Chansons Populaires</i>, <a href="#page_55">55</a><br /> - -Chaplin, Charles, <a href="#page_50">50</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Chappell, William, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Charisse, Cyd, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -<i>Chauve Souris</i>, <a href="#page_211">211</a><br /> - -Chase, Lucia, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_179">179</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>, <a href="#page_182">182</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a><br /> - -Chase, William (“Bill”), <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a><br /> - -<i>Cimarosiana</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Charnley, Michael, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Chateau Frontenac (Quebec), <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a><br /> - -<i>Chatte, La</i>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -Chauviré, Yvette, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Checkmate</i>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> - -Chesterton, G. K., <a href="#page_275">275</a><br /> - -Chicago Allied Arts, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a><br /> - -Chicago Civic Opera Company, <a href="#page_86">86</a><br /> - -Chicago <i>Daily News</i>, <a href="#page_185">185</a><br /> - -Chicago Opera Company, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a><br /> - -Chicago Opera House, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a><br /> - -Chicago Public Library, <a href="#page_286">286</a><br /> - -Chirico, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Chopin, Frederic, <a href="#page_97">97</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Choreartium</i>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Christ’s Hospital (London), <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -<i>Christmas</i>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Church of St. Bartholomew the Great (London), <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -Church of St. Martin’s in-the-Fields (London), <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -Churchill, John, <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -Churchill, Sir Winston, <a href="#page_275">275</a><br /> - -<i>Cinderella</i>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a><br /> - -City of Philadelphia, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -Claire, Stella, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Clark, Peggy, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Clustine, Ivan, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_24">24</a><br /> - -Clutterbuck, Sir Hugh and Lady, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> - -<i>Cléopatre</i> <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Cleveland Institute, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Cobos, Antonio, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Colon Theatre (Buenos Aires), <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Colonel de Basil’s Ballet Russe, <a href="#page_116">116</a><br /> - -Colt, Alvin, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Comus</i>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -<i>Concerto for Orchestra</i>, <a href="#page_175">175</a><br /> - -<i>Concerto Grosso</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Concurrence, La</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Condon, Natalia, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Conrad, Karen, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<i>Constantia</i>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Constitution Hall (Washington, D.C.), <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> - -Continental Revue, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Copeland, George, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> - -Copland, Aaron, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Copley, Richard, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -Copley-Plaza Hotel (Boston), <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>Coppélia</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -<i>Coq d’Or, Le</i>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> - -Coralli, Jean, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -<i>Cotillon, Le</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Counterfeiters, The</i>, <a href="#page_115">115</a><br /> - -Council for the Education of H. M. Forces, <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -Cotten, Joseph, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Covent Garden Ballet Russe, <a href="#page_116">116</a><br /> - -Covent Garden Opera Company, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a><br /> - -Covent Garden Opera Syndicate, <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> - -Covent Garden Opera Trust, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Coward, Noel, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -<i>Cracovienne, La</i>, <a href="#page_18">18</a><br /> - -Craig, Gordon, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_36">36</a><br /> - -Cranko, John, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Cravath, Paul D., <a href="#page_112">112</a><br /> - -<i>Creation du Monde, La</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Cripps, Sir Stafford, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -Crowninshield, Frank, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -<i>Crystal Palace</i>, The, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="D"></a>Dagestanskaya Lesginka</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -<i>Daily Telegraph</i> (London), <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -Dalcroze, Jacques, <a href="#page_39">39</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_288">288</a><br /> - -Dali, Salvador, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Damnation of Faust, The</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Damrosch, Walter, <a href="#page_31">31</a><br /> - -<i>Dancing Times</i> (London), <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -Dandré, Victor, <a href="#page_24">24</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Danilova, Alexandra, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -<i>Dance of the Sylphs</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Danse de Feu</i>, <a href="#page_38">38</a><br /> - -<i>Danse, La</i>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -<i>Danses Sacré et Profane</i>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -<i>Danses Slaves et Tsiganes</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Danses Tziganes</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Dante Sonata</i>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Danton, Henry, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -<i>Daphnis and Chloe</i>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -<i>D’après une lecture de Dante</i>, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Dargomijsky, Alexander, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Dark Elegies</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Darrington Hall, <a href="#page_52">52</a><br /> - -<i>Daughter of Pharaoh</i>, <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -<i>Day in a Southern Port, A</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -<i>Days of Glory</i>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Death and the Maiden</i>, <a href="#page_171">171</a><br /> - -<i>Deaths and Entrances</i>, <a href="#page_65">65</a><br /> - -de Basil, Colonel W., <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a>, <a href="#page_289">289</a><br /> - -Debussy, Claude, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -de Cuevas, Marquessa, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> - -de Cuevas, Marquis Georges, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a><br /> - -Degas, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -de la Fontaine, Jean, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Delarova, Eugenia, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -De La Warr, Lord, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -Delibes, Léo, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Delius, Frederick, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -dello Joio, Norman, <a href="#page_164">164</a><br /> - -de Maré, Rolf, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -de Mille, Agnes, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -de Mille, Cecil B., <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -de Mille Dance Theatre, Agnes, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -de Molas, Nicolas, <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> - -Denham, Sergei I., <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a><br /> - -<a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>,1<a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -de Pachmann, Vladimir, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Derain, André, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -de Valois, Ninette, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_268">268</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a>, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_287">287</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_293">293</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_306">306</a>, <a href="#page_308">308</a><br /> - -<i>Devil’s Holiday</i>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Diaghileff Ballets Russes, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Diaghileff, Serge, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_93">93</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_205">205</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_275">275</a>, <a href="#page_287">287</a>, <a href="#page_289">289</a><br /> - -Dickens, Charles, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -d’Indy, Vincent, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Dior, Christian, <a href="#page_258">258</a><br /> - -Dillingham, Charles B., <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -<i>Dim Lustre</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Divertissement</i>, <a href="#page_205">205</a><br /> - -<i>Divertissement</i> (Tchaikowsky), <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Dixieland Band, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Doboujinsky, Mstislav, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Dohnanyi, Erno von, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Dolin, Anton, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_204">204-207</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Dollar, William, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Don Domingo</i>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Don Juan</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -<i>Don Quixote</i>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Don Quixote</i> (Gerhard), <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Dorati, Antal, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a><br /> - -Dostoevsky, <a href="#page_36">36</a><br /> - -Drake Hotel (Chicago), <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a><br /> - -Drury Lane Theatre (Royal) (London), <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -Dubrowska, Felia, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Dufy, Raoul, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Dukas, Paul, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Dukelsky, Vladimir (Vernon Duke), <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Dukes, Ashley, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -Dumas, Alexandre, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Duncan, Augustin, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> - -Duncan, Elizabeth, <a href="#page_29">29</a><br /> - -Duncan, Isadora, <a href="#page_28">28-36</a>, <a href="#page_37">37</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_47">47</a>, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_65">65</a>, <a href="#page_93">93</a><br /> - -Duncan, Raymond, <a href="#page_29">29</a><br /> - -Dunham, Katherine, <a href="#page_58">58-63</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Duse, Eleanora, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Dushkin, Samuel, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Dvorak, Antonin, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="E"></a>Edgeworth, Jane, <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -Edinburgh Festival, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> - -Educational Ballets, Ltd., <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a><br /> - -Eglevsky, André, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Egmont</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Egorova, Lubov, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_71">71-72</a><br /> - -<i>El Amor Brujo</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>El Café de Chinitas</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a><br /> - -<i>Elegiac Blues</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -<i>Elements, Les</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>El Huayno</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -Eliot, T. S., <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Ellsler, Fanny, <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a><br /> - -Elman, Misha, <a href="#page_17">17</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a><br /> - -Elman, Sol, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Elmhirst Foundation, <a href="#page_52">52</a><br /> - -<i>Elves, Les</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Elvin, Harold, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Elvin, Violetta, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_294">294-295</a><br /> - -<i>Elvira</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Empire Theatre (London), <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -English Opera Group, Ltd., <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -English-Speaking Union, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> - -<i>En Saga</i>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -<i>Epreuve d’Amour, L’</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Erlanger, Baron Frederic d’, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -<i>Errante</i>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Escales</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Escudero, Vicente, <a href="#page_47">47-49</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a><br /> - -Essenin, Serge, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_34">34</a><br /> - -<i>Eternal Struggle, The</i>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -<i>Eugene Onegin</i>, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Ewing, Thomas, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="F"></a>Façade</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -<i>Facsimile</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Faery Queen, The</i>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -<i>Fair at Sorotchinsk</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Fairy Doll</i>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Falla, Manuel de, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Fancy Free</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>Fandango</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -<i>Fantasia</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Farrar, Geraldine, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -<i>Farruca</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -<i>Faust</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Federal Dance Theatre, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Fedorova, Alexandra, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Fedorovitch, Sophie, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Fernandez, José, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Fernandez, Royes, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Festival Ballet (London), <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Festival Theatre (Cambridge University), <a href="#page_217">217</a><br /> - -<i>Fête Etrange, La</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Field, Marshall, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> - -Fifield, Elaine, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -<i>Fille de Madame Angot, La</i>, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -<i>Fille Mal Gardée, La</i>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Firebird</i> (<i>L’Oiseau de Feu</i>), <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a><br /> - -<i>First Love</i>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -Fisher, Thomas Hart, <a href="#page_253">253</a><br /> - -Fiske, Harrison Grey, <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -Fitzgerald, Barry, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Fleischmann, Julius, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_124">124</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a><br /> - -Fokine American Ballet, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -Fokine, Michel, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_65">65</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_92">92-104</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_308">308</a><br /> - -Fokina, Vera, <a href="#page_92">92</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> - -Fokine, Vitale, <a href="#page_93">93</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> - -Fonteyn, Margot, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>, <a href="#page_254">254-259</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_282">282</a>, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Ford Foundation, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -Forrest Theatre (Philadelphia), <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> - -Forty-eighth Street Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Forty-fourth Street Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> - -Forty-sixth Street Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -Foss, Lukas, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -<i>Fountains of Bakchisserai, The</i>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -<i>Four Saints in Three Acts</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Fox, Horace, <a href="#page_263">263</a><br /> - -<i>Foyer de Danse</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Franca, Celia, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Francaix, Jean, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -France, Anatole, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Francesca da Rimini</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Franck, César, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Frankenstein, Alfred, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> - -Franklin, Benjamin, <a href="#page_16">16</a><br /> - -Franklin, Frederick, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a><br /> - -Franks, Sir Oliver and Lady, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> - -French National Lyric Theatre, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Fridolin</i>, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Frohman, Mae, <a href="#page_46">46</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_312">312</a>, <a href="#page_313">313</a><br /> - -<i>Frolicking Gods</i>, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> - -Frost, Honor, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Fuller, Loie, <a href="#page_37">37-39</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="G"></a>Gaîté Parisienne</i>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -<i>Gala Evening</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Gala Performance</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Galli, Rosina, <a href="#page_18">18</a><br /> - -Garson, Greer, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Gatti-Cazzaza, Giulio, <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -Gaubert, Phillipe, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Geltser, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Geltzer, Ekaterina, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Genée, Adeline, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Genthe, Dr. Arnold, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Gerhard, Robert, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -German Opera Company, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Gershwin, George, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Gest, Morris, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_93">93</a><br /> - -Gest, Simeon, <a href="#page_80">80</a><br /> - -Geva, Tamara, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -<i>Ghost Town</i>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Gibson, Ian, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Gide, André, <a href="#page_115">115</a><br /> - -Gielgud, John, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -<i>Gift of the Magi</i>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Gilbert, W. S., <a href="#page_299">299</a><br /> - -Gilmour, Sally, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -Gindt, Ekaterina, <a href="#page_104">104</a><br /> - -<i>Giselle</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_207">207</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Gladowska, Constantia, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Glazounow, Alexandre, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Glinka, Mikhail, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> - -<i>Gloriana</i>, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -Gluck, Christopher Willibald von, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Goetz, E. Ray, <a href="#page_110">110</a><br /> - -Gogol, Nikolai, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Gollner, Nana, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a><br /> - -Golovine, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> - -Gontcharova, Nathalie, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> - -Goode, Gerald, <a href="#page_42">42</a><br /> - -<i>Good-Humoured Ladies, The</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Gopal, Ram, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -Gordon, Gavin, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -Gore, Walter, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Gorky, Maxim, <a href="#page_15">15</a>, <a href="#page_16">16</a>, <a href="#page_26">26</a><br /> - -<i>Götter-dammerung, Die</i>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Gould, Diana, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -Gould, Morton, <a href="#page_165">165</a><br /> - -<i>Goyescas</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Graduation Ball</i>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Graham, Martha, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_63">63-65</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -Grand Ballet de Monte Carlo, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Grand Ballet du Marquis de Cuevas, <a href="#page_196">196</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Grant, Alexander, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Grauman’s Chinese Theatre (Hollywood), <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -Grauman’s Egyptian Theatre (Hollywood), <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -<i>Graziana</i>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Greco, José, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -<i>Green Table, The</i>, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Grey, Beryl, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_292">292-294</a><br /> - -Grigorieva, Tamara, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Grigorieff, Serge, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Grimousinkaya, Irina, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Gross, Alexander, <a href="#page_29">29</a><br /> - -Guerard, Roland, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Guerra, Nicola, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Guiablesse, La</i>, <a href="#page_58">58</a><br /> - -Guinsberg, Naron “Nikki,” <a href="#page_131">131</a><br /> - -Guthrie, Tyrone, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="H"></a>Habima Theatre, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Hall, James Norman, <a href="#page_276">276</a><br /> - -Hallé Orchestra, The, <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> - -<i>Hamlet</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a><br /> - -<i>Hammersmith Nights</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Hanson, Joe, <a href="#page_209">209</a><br /> - -<i>Harlequin in April</i>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Hartley, Russell, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Hartmann, Emil, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Harvard Library, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>Harvest Time</i>, <a href="#page_167">167</a><br /> - -Heseltine, Philip (Peter Warlock), <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Haskell, Arnold L., <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_286">286-289</a><br /> - -Hastings, Hanns, <a href="#page_41">41</a><br /> - -<i>Haunted Ballroom, The</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Hawkes, Ralph, <a href="#page_229">229</a><br /> - -Hayward, Louis, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Heifetz, Jascha, <a href="#page_82">82</a><br /> - -<i>Helen of Troy</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Helpmann, Robert, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_282">282-286</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Henderson, Mrs. Laura, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Henderson, W. J., <a href="#page_23">23</a><br /> - -<i>Henry VIII.</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Henry, O., <a href="#page_164">164</a><br /> - -Hepburn, Katherine, <a href="#page_285">285</a><br /> - -Hess, Dame Myra, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -Hightower, Rosella, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Hindemith, Paul, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -<i>Hindu Wedding</i>, <a href="#page_51">51</a><br /> - -Hippodrome (New York), <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_314">314</a><br /> - -Hirsch, Georges, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a><br /> - -H. M. Ministry of Works, <a href="#page_224">224</a><br /> - -Hobi, Frank, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Hoffman, Gertrude, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Hogarth, William, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Holden, Stanley, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Hollywood Bowl, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a><br /> - -Hollywood Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Homage to the Queen</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -<i>Hooray for Love</i>, <a href="#page_50">50</a><br /> - -Horenstein, Jascha, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -<i>Horoscope</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Horrocks, <a href="#page_231">231</a><br /> - -Hotel Meurice (Paris), <a href="#page_39">39</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a><br /> - -Howard, Andrée, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Hughes, Herbert, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Hugo, Pierre, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Hugo, Victor, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> - -Humphrey, Doris, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -<i>Hundred Kisses, The</i>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> - -<i>Hungary</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -Hurok, Mrs. (Emma), <a href="#page_46">46</a>, <a href="#page_49">49</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_312">312</a><br /> - -Hurry, Leslie, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Hyams, Ruth, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_313">313</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="I"></a>Ibert, Jacques, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Icare</i>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -<i>Igroushki</i>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -<i>Imaginaires, Les</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Imperial League of Opera (London), <a href="#page_107">107</a><br /> - -Imperial School of Ballet (Moscow), <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a><br /> - -<i>Impresario</i>, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>I Musici</i>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -<i>In Old Madrid</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -International Ballet (London), <a href="#page_290">290</a><br /> - -International Ballet, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a><br /> - -International Choreographic Competition (Paris), <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -International Dance Festival, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -International Revue, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -<i>Interplay</i>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Ippolitov-Ivanov, Mikhail, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Irving, Robert, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Irving, Sir Henry, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -“Isadorables” (Anna, Lysel, Gretl, Thérése, Erica, Irma), <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_34">34</a><br /> - -<i>Istar</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Iturbi, José, <a href="#page_57">57</a><br /> - -Ivanoff, Lev, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Ivy House (London), <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_25">25</a>, <a href="#page_26">26</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="J"></a>Jackson, Tom, <a href="#page_224">224</a><br /> - -Jackson, Rowena, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_296">296-297</a><br /> - -Jacob, Gordon, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -Jacob’s Pillow, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Japanese Dancers and Musicians, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -<i>Jardin aux Lilas</i> (<i>Lilac Garden</i>), <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Jardin Public</i> (<i>Public Garden</i>), <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Jasinsky, Roman, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Jerome, Jerome K., <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring</i>, <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -<i>Jeux</i>, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -<i>Jeux d’Enfants</i> (<i>Children’s Games</i>), <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Jeux des Cartes</i> (<i>Card Game</i>, <i>Poker Game</i>), <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -<i>Job</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a><br /> - -Johnson, Albert, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Johnson, Edward, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a><br /> - -Jolivet, André, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Joos, Kurt, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -<i>Jota</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -<i>Jota Argonese</i>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Juda, Hans, <a href="#page_231">231</a><br /> - -<i>Judgment of Paris</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="K"></a>Kahn, Otto H., <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_319">319</a><br /> - -Kaloujny, Alexandre, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Karnilova, Maria, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Karsavina, Tamara, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_72">72-73</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Karsavin, Platon, <a href="#page_72">72</a><br /> - -Kauffer, E. McKnight, <a href="#page_241">241</a><br /> - -Kaye, Nora, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a><br /> - -Kchessinsky, Felix, <a href="#page_68">68</a><br /> - -Kchessinska, Mathilde, <a href="#page_67">67-69</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a><br /> - -Kennedy, Ludovic, <a href="#page_291">291</a><br /> - -Keynes, Geoffrey, <a href="#page_238">238</a><br /> - -Keynes, J. Maynard (Lord Keynes), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a><br /> - -<i>Khadra</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Kidd, Michael, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>Knight and the Maiden, The</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Korovin, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Kosloff, Alexis, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a><br /> - -Kosloff, Theodore, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_84">84-85</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Koudriavtzeff, Nicholas, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Koussevitsky, Serge, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Krassovska, Natalie (Leslie), <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Kreutzberg, Harald, <a href="#page_46">46</a><br /> - -Kriza, John, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a><br /> - -Kubelik, Jan, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a><br /> - -Kurtz, Efrem, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Kyasht, Lydia (Kyaksht), <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_73">73-75</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="L"></a>Laban, Rudolf von, <a href="#page_40">40</a><br /> - -<i>Labyrinth</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Lac des Cygnes</i> (Full length), <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_293">293</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -<i>Lady Into Fox</i>, <a href="#page_171">171</a><br /> - -<i>Lady of the Camellias</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Lady of Shalot</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>L’Ag’ya</i>, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Laing, Hugh, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Lalo, Eduardo, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Lambert, Constant, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_272">272-279</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_293">293</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Lancaster, Osbert, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Lanchbery, John, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> - -Lane, Maryon, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Larianov, Michel, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a><br /> - -<i>Last Days of Nijinsky, The</i>, <a href="#page_83">83</a><br /> - -<i>Laudes Evangelli</i>, <a href="#page_120">120</a><br /> - -Lauret, Jeanette, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Lawrence, Gertrude, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Lawson-Powell School (New Zealand), <a href="#page_296">296</a><br /> - -Lazovsky, Yurek, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Lecocq, Charles, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -<i>Leda and the Swan</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Lehmann, Maurice, <a href="#page_216">216</a><br /> - -Lenin, Nicolai, <a href="#page_68">68</a><br /> - -Leningrad Conservatory, <a href="#page_312">312</a><br /> - -Leslie, Lew, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Lester, Edwin, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Lester, Keith, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Levine, Marks, <a href="#page_313">313</a><br /> - -Lewisohn Stadium (New York), <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a><br /> - -Liadoff, Anatole, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Lichine, David, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Lidji, Jacques, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> - -Lieberman, Elias, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> - -Lie, Honorable Trygve, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -<i>Lieutenant Kije</i>, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Lifar, Serge, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Lingwood, Tom, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Lipkovska, Tatiana, <a href="#page_186">186</a><br /> - -Litavkin, Serge, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -Little Theatre (New York Times Hall), <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Liszt, Franz, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a><br /> - -Liverpool Philharmonic Society, <a href="#page_280">280</a><br /> - -Lobe, Edward, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Local managers, <a href="#page_314">314-315</a><br /> - -Loew’s Theatre (Washington, D.C.), <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> - -London Ballet Workshop, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -London Philharmonic Orchestra, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a><br /> - -London Symphony Orchestra, <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> - -Lopez, Pilar, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_58">58</a><br /> - -Lopokova, Lydia (Lady Keynes), <a href="#page_67">67</a><br /> - -<a href="#page_75">75-77</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> - -Lorca, Garcia, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a><br /> - -<i>Lord of Burleigh, The</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Loring, Eugene, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Los Angeles Civic Light Opera Association, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Losch, Tilly, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -Lourie, Eugene, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Louys, Pierre, <a href="#page_93">93</a><br /> - -Lurçat, Jean, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Lyon, Annabelle, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Lyceum Theatre (London), <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="M"></a>Mackaye, Percy, <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -MacLeish, Archibald, <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> - -Macletzova, Xenia, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a><br /> - -<i>Mlle. Angot</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -<i>Magic Swan, The</i>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Maclès, Jean-Denis, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a><br /> - -Malone, Halsey, <a href="#page_128">128</a><br /> - -Majestic Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_54">54</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a><br /> - -Manhattan Opera House (New York), <a href="#page_24">24</a><br /> - -Mansfield, Richard, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Manuel, Roland, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Man Who Married a Dumb Wife, The</i>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Mardi Gras</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Marie Antoinette Hotel (New York), <a href="#page_97">97</a><br /> - -Maria Thérésa, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Marie, Grand Duchess of Russia, <a href="#page_111">111</a><br /> - -Marie, Queen of Rumania, <a href="#page_37">37</a>, <a href="#page_38">38</a><br /> - -Mark Hopkins Hotel (San Francisco), <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Markova, Alicia, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_200">200-204</a>, <a href="#page_207">207</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a><br /> - -Markova-Dolin Ballet Company, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a><br /> - -Martin Beck Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Martin, Florence and Kathleen, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Martin, John, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a><br /> - -Maryinsky Theatre (Russia), <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> - -<i>Masques, Les</i>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Masonic Auditorium (Detroit), <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a><br /> - -Massenet, Jules, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -Massine, Leonide, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_124">124</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_245">245</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -Masson, André, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Matelots, Les</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Matisse, Henri, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -May, Pamela, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a><br /> - -<i>Medusa</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a><br /> - -Melba, Dame Nellie, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -Melville, Herman, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -Mendelssohn, Felix von, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Menotti, Gian-Carlo, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Mens, Meta, <a href="#page_40">40</a><br /> - -<i>Mephisto Valse</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Merchant Navy Suite</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Mercury Theatre (London), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Merida, Carlos, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Messager, André, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Messel, Oliver, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Metropolitan Opera Company, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -Metropolitan Opera House (New York), <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_30">30</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_97">97</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_293">293</a>, <a href="#page_307">307</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Metropolitan Opera House (Philadelphia), <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Meyerbeer, Giacomo, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -<i>Midnight Sun, The</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Midsummer Night’s Dream, A</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Mielziner, Jo, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Mignone, Francisco, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Mikhailovsky Theatre (St. Petersburg), <a href="#page_89">89</a><br /> - -Miller, Patricia, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Milhaud, Darius, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -Mills, Florence, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Minkus, Leon, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -<i>Minuet of the Will o’ the Wisps</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Miracle, The</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Miracle in the Gorbals</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> - -<i>Mirages, Les</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Miro, Joan, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Mladova, Milada, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Modjeska, Helena, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -<i>Monotonie</i>, <a href="#page_42">42</a><br /> - -Montenegro, Robert, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Monteux, Pierre, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Monte Carlo Ballet Russe, <a href="#page_116">116</a><br /> - -“<i>Moonlight Sonata</i>,” <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Moore, Henry, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -Mordkin Ballet, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a><br /> - -Mordkin, Mikhail, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_22">22</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_79">79-81</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -<i>Morning Telegraph, The</i> (New York), <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Morosova, Olga, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a><br /> - -Morris, Douglas, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> - -<i>Mort du Cygne, La</i> (<i>The Dying Swan</i>), <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a><br /> - -Mortlock, Rev. C. B., <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -Moreton, Ursula, <a href="#page_299">299</a><br /> - -Moscow Art Players, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Moss and Fontana, <a href="#page_54">54</a><br /> - -<i>Mother Goose Suite</i>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Motley, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Moussorgsky, Modeste, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -<i>Movimientos</i>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a><br /> - -Munsel, Patrice, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -<i>Murder in the Cathedral</i>, <a href="#page_285">285</a><br /> - -Music for the Masses, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -<i>Music for the Orchestra</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Music Ho!, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -<i>Mute Wife, The</i>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>My Three Loves</i>, <a href="#page_290">290</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="N"></a>Nabokoff, Nicholas, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Nachez, Twadar, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Natalie Koussevitsky Foundation, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -National Gallery (London), <a href="#page_278">278</a><br /> - -National Symphony Orchestra (Washington, D.C.), <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -Nation, Carrie, <a href="#page_37">37</a><br /> - -<i>Naouma</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Nemtchinova-Dolin Ballet, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Nemtchinova, Vera, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a><br /> - -Nerina, Nadia, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_295">295-296</a><br /> - -New Dance—Theatre Piece—With My Red Fires (trilogy), <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -New York City Ballet, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -New York City Center, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -New York City Festival, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a><br /> - -<i>New York Herald-Tribune</i>, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -New York Philharmonic Orchestra, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a><br /> - -New York Symphony Orchestra, <a href="#page_31">31</a><br /> - -<i>New York Times, The</i>, <a href="#page_17">17</a>, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>New Yorker, The</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Nicolaeva-Legat, Nadine, <a href="#page_289">289</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a><br /> - -<i>Night on a Bald Mountain</i>, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Nijinska, Bronislava, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Nijinska, Romola, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_83">83</a><br /> - -Nijinsky, Vaslav, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_81">81-84</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> - -<i>Noces, Les</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Nocturne</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Nordoff, Paul, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Novikoff, Elizabeth, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Novikoff, Laurent, <a href="#page_22">22</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -<i>Nuit d’Egypte, Une</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> - -<i>Nutcracker, The</i>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Nutcracker Suite</i>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="O"></a>Oberon</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Obolensky, Prince Serge, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a><br /> - -Oboukhoff, Anatole, <a href="#page_125">125</a><br /> - -O’Dwyer, William, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -Offenbach, Jacques, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Old Vic Theatre (London), <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Olivier, Sir Laurence, <a href="#page_222">222</a><br /> - -<i>On Stage!</i>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>On the Route to Seville</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -<i>Orchesographie</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -O’Reilley, Sheilah, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Original Ballet Russe, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_138">138-146</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Orloff, Nicolas, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Orlova, Tatiana ( Mrs. Leonide Massine), <a href="#page_126">126</a><br /> - -Osato, Sono, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_162">162</a><br /> - -Ostrovsky Theatre (Moscow), <a href="#page_117">117</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="P"></a>Pabst Theatre (Milwaukee), <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> - -<i>Paganini</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> - -Paganini, Niccolo, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Page, Ruth, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_60">60</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a><br /> - -<i>Paint Your Wagon</i>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Palacio des Bellas Artes (Mexico City), <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Palisades Amusement Park (New York), <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a><br /> - -Panaieff, Michel, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -<i>Pantomime Harlequinade</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Papillons, Les</i>, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -<i>Paris</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Paris Colonial Exposition, <a href="#page_51">51</a><br /> - -Paris Opéra, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a><br /> - -Paris Opera Ballet, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Paris Opéra Comique, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Paris Opéra Company, <a href="#page_169">169</a><br /> - -<i>Pas de Quatre</i>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Pas des Espagnole</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Pas de Trois</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Passing of the Third Floor Back, The</i>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Pastorale</i>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -<i>Patineurs, Les</i>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Patterson, Yvonne, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Pavane</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Pavillon, La</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Pavillon d’Armide</i>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Pavlova, Anna, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_12">12-27</a>, <a href="#page_28">28</a>, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_47">47</a>, <a href="#page_51">51</a>, <a href="#page_52">52</a>, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a><br /> - -Payne, Charles, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Péne du Bois, Raoul, <a href="#page_164">164</a><br /> - -People’s Theatre (St. Petersburg), <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> - -<i>Peri, La</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Perpetual Motion</i>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Perrault, Charles, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> - -Perrot, Jules, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -Peter and the Wolf, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Peter Grimes</i>, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> - -Petipa, Marius, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Petit, Roland, <a href="#page_119">119</a><br /> - -Petit, Roland, Ballet Company, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -<i>Petits Riens, Les</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Petroff, Paul, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -<i>Petroushka</i>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Philadelphia Orchestra, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a><br /> - -Philipoff, Alexander (“Sasha”), <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a><br /> - -<i>Piano Concerto</i> (Lambert), <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -<i>Piano Concerto in F Minor</i> (Chopin), <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Picasso, Pablo, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a><br /> - -<i>Pictures at an Exhibition</i>, <a href="#page_190">190</a><br /> - -<i>Pillar of Fire</i>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>Pineapple Poll</i>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -<i>Pins and Needles</i>, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Pinza, Ezio, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Piper, John, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -<i>Plages, Le</i>, (<i>Beach</i>), <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Platoff, Mark, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Playfair, Nigel, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Pleasant, Richard, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -Podesta, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -Pogany, Willy, <a href="#page_95">95</a><br /> - -<i>Poland—Three Moods: Happiness, Revolt, Sadness</i>, <a href="#page_97">97</a><br /> - -Poliakov, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a><br /> - -<i>Polka</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Polunin, Vladimir, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -<i>Pomona</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Poole, David, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -<i>Poor Richard’s Almanack</i>, <a href="#page_16">16</a><br /> - -Popova, Nina, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Portinari, Candido, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Ports of Call</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Poulenc, Francis, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Powell, Lionel, <a href="#page_107">107</a><br /> - -Pratt, John, <a href="#page_63">63</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Preobrajenska, Olga, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_69">69-71</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Présages, Les</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> - -<i>Princess Aurora</i>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a><br /> - -<i>Prince Igor</i>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -H.H. Prince of Monaco, <a href="#page_106">106</a><br /> - -<i>Prodigal Son, The</i> (<i>Le Fils Prodigue</i>), <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Prokhoroff, Vassili, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -Prokofieff, Sergei, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -<i>Prophet, The</i>, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -<i>Prospect Before Us, The</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -<i>Protée</i>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Pruna, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Psota, Vania, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Punch and the Policeman</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Purcell, Henry, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Pushkin, Alexander, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="Q"></a>Quest, The</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -<i>Quintet</i>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="R"></a>Rachel, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Rachmaninoff, Sergei, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Rafael, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -<i>Rakoczy March</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Rake’s Progress, The</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -Rambert, Marie, <a href="#page_77">77-79</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Rameau, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Rapee, Erno, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Rassine, Alexis, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Rawsthorne, Alan, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -Ravel, Maurice, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Ravina, Jean, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Reaper’s Dream, The</i>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -<i>Red Shoes</i>, <a href="#page_289">289</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -Reed, Janet, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -Reed, Richard, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Reich, George, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Reinhardt, Max, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Remisoff, Nicholas, <a href="#page_91">91</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Renault, Madeline, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Renault, Michel, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Rendez-vous, Les</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Respighi, Ottorino, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> - -Revueltas, Sylvestre, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -Reyes, Alfonso, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> - -<i>Rhapsody on the Theme of Paganini</i>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Riaboushinska, Tatiana, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Ricarda, Ana, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Richardson, Philip, J. S., <a href="#page_287">287</a><br /> - -Richman, Harry, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -Richmond, Aaron, <a href="#page_260">260</a><br /> - -Rieti, Vittorio, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Rimsky-Korsakoff, Nicolas, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Rio Grande</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Rittman, Trudi, <a href="#page_316">316</a><br /> - -Ritz, Roger, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Robbins, Jerome, <a href="#page_65">65</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Robinson, Casey, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -Robinson, Edward, G., <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Rockefeller Foundation, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -<i>Rodeo</i>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Roerich, Nicholas, <a href="#page_123">123</a><br /> - -Rogers, Richard, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Romanoff, Boris, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Romanoff, Dmitri, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<i>Romantic Age</i>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -Romulo, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -<i>Rondino</i>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Rosay, Berrina, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Roshanara, <a href="#page_52">52</a><br /> - -Rose, Billy, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Rosenthal, Manuel, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Rossini, Gioacchino, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Rostova, Lubov, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Rothapfel, Samuel, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -Rouault, Georges, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -<i>Rouet d’Omphale</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Rouge et Noir</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Roussalka</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Rowell, Kenneth, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Roxy Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a><br /> - -Roy, Pierre, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Royal Academy of Dancing (London), <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Royal College of Music, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Royal Danish Ballet, <a href="#page_104">104</a><br /> - -Royal Festival Hall (London), <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Royal Opera House (Copenhagen), <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> - -Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_242">242</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a>, <a href="#page_245">245</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Rubbra, Edward, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -Rubenstein, Ida, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -Rubinstein, Anton, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Rubinstein, Mr. & Mrs. Arthur, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> - -Rubinstein, Beryl, <a href="#page_33">33</a><br /> - -Rubinstein, Nicholas, <a href="#page_156">156</a><br /> - -Ruffo, Tito, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Runanin, Borislav, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<i>Russian Folk Dances</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Russian Folk Lore</i>, <a href="#page_86">86</a><br /> - -<i>Russian Folk Tales</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Russian Imperial Ballet, <a href="#page_13">13</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a><br /> - -Russian Imperial School of the Ballet (St. Petersburg), <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a><br /> - -Russian Opera Company, <a href="#page_310">310</a><br /> - -<i>Russian Soldier</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a><br /> - -Russian State School (Warsaw), <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="S"></a>Sabo, Roszika, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Sacre du Printemps, Le</i> (<i>Rite of Spring</i>), <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a><br /> - -Saddler, Donald, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Sadler, Thomas, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells Ballet, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>, <a href="#page_228">228</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_242">242</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_250">250</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a>, <a href="#page_266">266</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a>, <a href="#page_268">268</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_282">282</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a>, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_288">288</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a>, <a href="#page_295">295</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells Foundation, <a href="#page_288">288</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells Opera Company, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells School, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_287">287</a>, <a href="#page_288">288</a>, <a href="#page_289">289</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells Theatre, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_288">288</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a><br /> - -Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a>, <a href="#page_309">309</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -St. Denis, Ruth, <a href="#page_64">64</a><br /> - -<i>St. Francis</i> (<i>Noblissima Visione</i>), <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -St. James Ballet Company, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -St. James Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> - -Sainthill, Loudon, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -St. Regis Hotel (New York), <a href="#page_83">83</a>, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a><br /> - -Saint-Saens, Charles Camille, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -“Saison des Ballets Russes,” <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -<i>Salad</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Salome’s Dance of the Seven Veils</i>, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -<i>Samson and Delilah</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a><br /> - -San Francisco Art Commission, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_321">321</a><br /> - -<i>San Francisco Chronicle</i>, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> - -San Francisco Civic Ballet, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -San Francisco Opera Ballet, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a><br /> - -San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, <a href="#page_199">199</a><br /> - -<i>Sapeteado</i>, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Saratoga</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Sargent, Sir Malcolm, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -Sauguet, Henri, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Savoy Hotel (London), <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> - -Savoy-Plaza Hotel (New York), <a href="#page_112">112</a><br /> - -Scala, La (Milan), <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a><br /> - -Scarlatti, Domenico, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Scènes de Ballet, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -Schönberg, Arnold, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Schoop, Paul, <a href="#page_50">50</a><br /> - -Schoop, Trudi, <a href="#page_49">49-50</a><br /> - -<i>Schéhérazade</i>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Schubert, Franz, <a href="#page_30">30</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Schumann-Heink, Ernestine, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Schumann, Robert, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -Schuman, William, <a href="#page_162">162</a><br /> - -<i>Scuola di Ballo</i>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Schwezoff, Igor, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -<i>Sea Change</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -<i>Seasons, The</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -<i>Sebastian</i>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Sedova, Julia, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -Selfridge, Gordon, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> - -Seligman, Izia, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Semenoff, Simon, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -Serguëef, Nicholas, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -<i>Serpentine Dance</i>, <a href="#page_37">37</a>, <a href="#page_38">38</a><br /> - -Sert, José Maria, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Sevastianoff, German, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> - -<i>Seven Dances of Life</i>, <a href="#page_40">40</a><br /> - -<i>Seven Lively Arts, The</i>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a><br /> - -<i>Seventh Symphony</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Sevillianas</i>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -Shabalevsky, Yurek, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -<i>Shadow, The</i>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Shakespeare Festival Theatre (Stratford), <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Shakespeare, William, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Shan-Kar, Uday, <a href="#page_51">51-53</a><br /> - -Sharaff, Irene, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Shaw, Bernard, <a href="#page_282">282</a><br /> - -Shaw, Brian, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -Shawn, Ted, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -Shearer, Moira, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a>, <a href="#page_289">289-292</a>, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Shostakovich, Dmitri, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Shore Excursion</i>, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Shrine Auditorium (Los Angeles), <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -Sibelius, Jan, <a href="#page_276">276</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -Siebert, Wallace, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Sierra, Martinez, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a><br /> - -<i>Sirènes, Les</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> - -Sitwell, Edith, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a><br /> - -Sitwell, Sir Osbert, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -Sitwell, Sacheverell, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -Skibine, George, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Slavenska, Mia, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -<i>Slavonic Dances</i>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -<i>Slavonika</i>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a><br /> - -<i>Sleeping Beauty, The</i> (<i>Sleeping Princess, The</i>), <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a><br /> - -<a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_250">250</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -Sloan, Alfred P., <a href="#page_230">230</a><br /> - -Smith, Douglas, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -Smith, Oliver, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -<i>Snow Maiden, The</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a><br /> - -Sokoloff, Asa, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> - -<i>Soleares</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a><br /> - -Somes, Michael, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> - -<i>Song of the Nightingale, The</i>, <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> - -Soudeikine, Serge, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> - -<i>Source, La</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>South African Dancing Times</i>, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -Soviet State School of Ballet, <a href="#page_70">70</a><br /> - -<i>Spectre de la Rose, Le</i>, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Spessivtseva, Olga, <a href="#page_71">71</a><br /> - -Staats, Leo, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Staff, Frank, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -<i>Star of the North</i>, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> - -<i>Stars in Your Eyes</i>, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -Stalin, Joseph, <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> - -Stein, Gertrude, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Stevenson, Hugh, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> - -Still, William Grant, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> - -Stokowski, Leopold, <a href="#page_106">106</a><br /> - -Straight, Dorothy (Mrs. Elmhirst), <a href="#page_52">52</a><br /> - -Strauss, Johann, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Strauss, Richard, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> - -Stravinsky, Igor, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_91">91</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a><br /> - -<i>Suite de Danse</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Suite in F Sharp Minor</i> (Dohnanyi), <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -<i>Suite in White</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Sullivan, Sir Arthur, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> - -<i>Summer’s Last Will and Testament</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a><br /> - -<i>Sun, The</i> (New York), <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -Svenson, Sven, Dr., <a href="#page_293">293</a><br /> - -<i>Swan Lake</i> (One act version), <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Sylphides, Les</i>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Sylvia</i>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_315">315</a><br /> - -<i>Symphonic Impressions</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Symphonic Variations</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -<i>Symphonie Fantastique</i>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Symphonie Pathétique</i>, <a href="#page_103">103</a><br /> - -<i>Symphony for Fun</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -<i>Symphony in C</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="T"></a>Taglioni, Marie, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a><br /> - -Taglioni, Philippe, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> - -Tait, E. J., <a href="#page_138">138</a><br /> - -Talbot, J. Alden, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a><br /> - -<i>Tales of Hoffman</i>, <a href="#page_290">290</a><br /> - -Tallchief, Marjorie, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -<i>Tally-Ho</i>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> - -<i>Tango</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -<i>Tannhauser</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Tarantule, La</i>, <a href="#page_18">18</a><br /> - -Taras, John, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Taylor, Deems, <a href="#page_23">23</a><br /> - -Tchaikowsky, Peter Ilytch, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -Tchekhoff, Michael, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Tchelitcheff, Pavel, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a><br /> - -Tcherepnine, Nicholas, <a href="#page_121">121</a><br /> - -Tchernicheva, Lubov, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Tennent Productions, Ltd., <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> - -Terry, Ellen, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_81">81</a><br /> - -Tetrazzini, Eva, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Teyte, Maggie, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> - -<i>Thamar</i>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> - -Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> - -Théâtre Mogador, <a href="#page_34">34</a><br /> - -<i>Theatre Street</i>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a><br /> - -Theilade, Nini, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a><br /> - -Thomson, Virgil, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Three-Cornered Hat, The</i> (<i>Le Tricorne</i>), <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -<i>Three Virgins and a Devil</i>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Thunder Bird, The</i>, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> - -Tierney, Gene, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> - -<i>Times, The</i> (London), <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a><br /> - -<i>Tiresias</i>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> - -Tommasini, Vincenzo, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a><br /> - -<i>Tonight We Sing</i>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_312">312</a><br /> - -Toscanini, Arturo, <a href="#page_317">317</a><br /> - -Toumanova, Tamara, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_167">167-170</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Toye, Geoffrey, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -<i>Tragedy of Fashion, The</i>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Traviata, La</i>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Trecu, Pirmin, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> - -Trefilova, Vera, <a href="#page_71">71</a><br /> - -<i>Triumph of Neptune, The</i>, <a href="#page_273">273</a><br /> - -Trocadero (Paris), <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> - -<i>Tropical Revue</i>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> - -Trudi Schoop Comic Ballet, <a href="#page_49">49</a><br /> - -Truman, Harry S., <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> - -Tudor, Antony, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Tupine, Oleg, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Turner, Jarold, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> - -<i>Twice Upon a Time</i>, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> - -<i>Two Pigeons, The</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="U"></a>Ulanova, Galina, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a><br /> - -<i>Undertow</i>, <a href="#page_161">161-162</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -U.N.E.S.C.O., <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> - -<i>Union Pacific</i>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> - -Universal Art, Inc., <a href="#page_124">124</a>, <a href="#page_128">128</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a><br /> - -University of Chicago, <a href="#page_58">58</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="V"></a>Vaganova, Agrippina, <a href="#page_266">266</a><br /> - -Valbor, Kirsten, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Valses Nobles et Sentimentales</i>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> - -Van Buren, Martin (President of U.S.A.), <a href="#page_18">18</a><br /> - -Vanderlip, Frank, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> - -Van Druten, John, <a href="#page_24">24</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Van Praagh, Peggy, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> - -Van Vechten, Carl, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a><br /> - -Vargas, Manolo, <a href="#page_56">56</a><br /> - -Vaudoyer, J. L., <a href="#page_21">21</a><br /> - -Vaussard, Christiane, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -Verchinina, Nina, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Verdi, Giuseppi, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Verklärte Nacht</i>, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> - -Vertes, Marcel, <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> - -<i>Vestris Solo</i>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -Victory Hall (London), <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -Vic-Wells Ballet, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> - -<i>Vienna 1814</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Vienna State Opera, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> - -Vilzak, Anatole, <a href="#page_125">125</a><br /> - -<i>Vision of Marguerite</i>, <a href="#page_318">318</a><br /> - -Vladimiroff, Pierre, <a href="#page_22">22</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a><br /> - -Volinine, Alexandre, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_22">22</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a><br /> - -Vollmar, Jocelyn, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> - -Volpe, Arnold, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_97">97</a>, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> - -Volpe, Mrs. Arnold, <a href="#page_97">97</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a><br /> - -Vsevolojsky, I. A., <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> - -<br /> -<a id="W"></a>Wagner, Richard, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Wakehurst, Lord & Lady, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> - -Wallman, Margaret, <a href="#page_70">70</a><br /> - -Walton, Sir William, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> - -<i>Waltz Academy</i>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> - -<i>Wanderer, The</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -<i>Want-Ads</i>, <a href="#page_50">50</a><br /> - -War Memorial Opera House (San Francisco), <a href="#page_162">162</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_250">250</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_282">282</a><br /> - -Warner Theatre (New York), <a href="#page_308">308</a><br /> - -Washburn, Malone & Perkins, <a href="#page_131">131</a><br /> - -Washington Square Players (The Theatre Guild), <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> - -<i>Waste Land, The</i>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> - -<i>Water Nymph, The</i>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -Watkins, Mary, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> - -Watteau, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Weber, Carl Maria von, <a href="#page_98">98</a>, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -Webster, David, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_242">242</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279-282</a>, <a href="#page_299">299</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -<i>Wedding Bouquet, A</i>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a><br /> - -Weidman, Charles, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a><br /> - -Weinberger, Jaromir, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> - -<i>Werther</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> - -Whalen, Grover, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> - -Whistler, Rex, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> - -<i>Whirl of the World, The</i>, <a href="#page_74">74</a><br /> - -Wigman, Mary, <a href="#page_39">39-46</a>, <a href="#page_47">47</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_65">65</a><br /> - -Wieniawsky, Henry, <a href="#page_167">167</a><br /> - -Williams, Emlyn, <a href="#page_311">311</a><br /> - -Williams, Ralf Vaughan, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a><br /> - -Winter Garden (New York), <a href="#page_74">74</a>, <a href="#page_75">75</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> - -<i>Winter Night</i>, <a href="#page_79">79</a><br /> - -<i>Wise Animals, The</i>, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> - -<i>Wise Virgins, The</i>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> - -Woizikowsky, Leon, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> - -Works Progress Administration, <a href="#page_320">320</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="Y"></a>Yara</i>, <a href="#page_194">194</a><br /> - -Yazvinsky, Jean (Ivan), <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Young Vic Theatre Co., <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> - -Youskevitch, Igor, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Ysaye, Eugene, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Yudkin, Louis, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> - -<br /> -<i><a id="Z"></a>Zamba</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -<i>Zapateado</i>, <a href="#page_48">48</a><br /> - -Zeller, Robert, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> - -<i>Zerbaseff</i>, <a href="#page_108">108</a><br /> - -Zeretelli, Prince, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a><br /> - -Ziegfeld Follies, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> - -Ziegfeld Roof (New York), <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> - -Ziegfeld Theatre, <a href="#page_165">165</a><br /> - -Ziegler, Edward, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> - -Zimbalist, Efrem, <a href="#page_17">17</a><br /> - -Zon, Ignat, <a href="#page_127">127</a><br /> - -Zorich, George, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> - -Zorina, Vera, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> - -Zuckert, Harry M., <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> - -Zvereff, Nicholas, <a href="#page_129">129</a><br /> -</p> - -<table style="padding:2%;border:3px dotted gray;" -id="transcrib"> -<tr><th>Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:</th></tr> -<tr><td> -<p>This was, so far is I know=> This was, so far as I know {pg 50}</p> - -<p>necessary and funadmental=> necessary and fundamental {pg 68}</p> - -<p>heirarchy of the Russian=> hierarchy of the Russian {pg 71}</p> - -<p>there continously since=> there continuously since {pg 71}</p> - -<p>The pre-Chrismas=> The pre-Christmas {pg 112}</p> - -<p>organizer and threatre promoter=> organizer and theatre promoter {pg -127}</p> - -<p>others chosing to remain=> others choosing to remain {pg 130}</p> - -<p>dissident elements in its=> dissident elements in it {pg 157}</p> - -<p>existing today. Jerome Robbin’s=> existing today. Jerome Robbins’s {pg -172}</p> - -<p>to make arrangments=> to make arrangements {pg 177}</p> - -<p>engagment at the Metropolitan=> engagement at the Metropolitan {pg 177}</p> - -<p>a temporay whim=> a temporary whim {pg 181}</p> - -<p>the Diaghleff Ballet=> the Diaghileff Ballet {pg 204}</p> - -<p>the times comes for his appearance=> the time comes for his appearance -{pg 206}</p> - -<p>the spirt of the painter=> the spirit of the painter {pg 218}</p> - -<p>A Beverley Hills group=> A Beverly Hills group {pg 249}</p> - -<p>the threatre programme=> the theatre programme {pg 251}</p> - -<p>make him Ecuardorian=> make him Ecuadorian {pg 269}</p> - -<p>edge of Knightbridge and Kensington=> edge of Knightsbridge and -Kensington {pg 272}</p> - -<p>Elegaic Blues=> Elegiac Blues {pg 274}</p> - -<p>early indocrination=> early indoctrination {pg 290}</p> - -<p>considearble royal interest=> considerable royal interest {pg 306}</p> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class="full" /> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK S. 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