THE ERA OF DEGENERATION
Nineteenth century decadence; sensationalism--Loie Fuller and the
Serpentine dance--Louise Weber, Lottie Collins and others.
During the last half of the nineteenth century the art of dancing
reached such a low level that Max Nordau said: ‘It is a fleeting
pastime for women and youths, and later on its last atavistic survival
will be the dancing of children.’ An English writer of that time wrote
aptly: ‘In these days of culture, when the public mind is being trained
to perceive and appreciate whatever is lovely in nature and art, when
music is universally studied, when there is ample evidence of general
improvement in taste and design in our streets, our buildings, on the
walls and in the furniture of our homes, is it not strange that a
single art, one which was in classic times deemed worthy to rank with
poetry and painting--the art of dancing--has degenerated to such an
extent that its practice, as frequently exhibited both in public and
in private, is a positive disgrace to the age? This is no exaggerated
statement. It is one which I think any competent critic is hardly
likely to deny.’
The Skirt Dance, the Serpentine Dance, the High Kickers, the Nude
Bayaderes were the sensations of the day. Here Lottie Collins, there
Loie Fuller, now Letti Lind, then again Connie Gilchrist, figured as
the greatest dance attractions of the day. London blamed Paris, Paris
blamed New York. How much the craze for such an art had cast its spell
on the public of that period is best illustrated by the immense sums
of money that the theatrical managers paid for their shows. The gross
receipts during one season in New York of ‘Humpty Dumpty,’ a celebrated
ballet of that time, amounted to $1,406,000. It brought in a similar
sum, if not more, outside.
I
A brilliant star of the sensational school of dancing was Loie Fuller,
of Chicago. She made her New York début in ‘Jack Sheppard,’ with a
salary of seventy-five dollars a week. While rehearsing a new play,
she received from an English officer a present of an extremely fine
Oriental robe that floated gracefully in the air. This gave her the
idea of using it for her dancing. While making some experiments before
the mirror, she noticed the effects brought about by the then newly
invented electric light. She tried innumerable variations of poses
and all were delightful. This was the birth process of the Serpentine
Dance. J. E. Crawford Flitch writes of the incident:
‘The invention of the Serpentine Dance coincided with the discovery
of electricity as a method of lighting the stage. Until that time gas
alone had been used. Loie Fuller immediately saw the possibilities of
the new scientific illumination, and with the aid of a few friends
she devised a means by which the effect of the vivid sunshine could
be obtained through the use of powerful electric lights placed in
front of reflectors. Then various experiments with color were tried;
for the white light of electricity were substituted different shades
of reds, greens, purples, yellows, blues, by the combinations of
which innumerable and wonderful rainbow-like effects of color were
obtained. Played upon by the multitudinous hues, the diaphanous silk
gave an impression of startling originality and beauty. Coming at the
time when the artistic lighting of the stage was scarcely studied at
all, the riot of color created a sensation. Nothing like it had been
seen before. The old-fashioned limelight, the flickering gas-jets,
the smoking red and blue flames dear to the Christmas pantomime,
paled before this discovery of science which apparently possessed
inexhaustible possibilities of a stage illuminant.’
Loie Fuller made a sensation in America, particularly in New York and
Chicago. But her success was much greater when she gave spectacular
performances to the morbid Berlin, Paris and London audiences. Her
début at Folies Bergères was more than a triumph. She became the rage
of France. The management of the Folies Bergères engaged her for three
years at a salary of one thousand dollars a week. How greatly ‘_La
Loie_,’ as she was called in Paris, impressed the French audiences is
best to be seen in what one of the French critics writes of her: ‘We
shall not easily forget the Serpentine Dance, undulating and luminous,
full of weird grace and originality, a veritable revelation! By means
of a novel contrivance, the gauzy iridescent draperies in which Loie
Fuller swathes herself were waved about her, now to form huge wings,
now to surge in great clouds of gold, blue, or crimson, under the
colored rays of the electric light. And in the flood of this dazzling
or pallid light the form of the dancer suddenly became incandescent,
or moved slowly and spectrally in the diaphanous and ever-changing
coloration cast upon it. The spectator never wearied of watching the
transformations of these tissues of living light, which showed in
successive visions the dreamy dancer, moving languidly in a chaos of
figured draperies--in a rainbow of brilliant colors or a sea of vivid
flames. And after having roused us to a pitch of enthusiasm by this
luminous choreography, she appeared triumphant in the pantomime-ballet
_Salome_, reproducing the gloomy episode of the death of John the
Baptist.’
Among the dances that Loie Fuller had in her repertoire, besides
the Serpentine Dance, were the Rainbow Dance, the Flower Dance,
the Butterfly Dance, the Mirror Dance, and the Fire Dance. It is
only natural that all her dances of this kind made necessary a vast
paraphernalia of accessories and an army of assistants. The Fire Dance
she performed in the centre of a darkened stage before an opening
in the floor through which a powerful electric reflector threw up
intensely brilliant rays. None of her dances had any classified steps,
any poses, gestures of the kind employed by dancers of various other
schools and different ages. The function of the limbs and arms was
merely to put veils and draperies into motion.
II
Of somewhat the same class were the entertainments given by Louise
Weber or ‘La Goulu,’ another American girl of the type of Loie Fuller.
Occasionally she exhibited some skill in her kicking scenes. It is
said that she never made pretension to rhythm and grace. Her ‘art’ was
a negation of every beauty. It was a frenzied delirious gymnastic.
An American critic says that her legs were agitated like those of
a marionette, they pawed the air, jerked out in the manner of a
pump-handle, and menaced the hats of the spectators.
Lottie Collins was a favorite of the English, French and American
audiences, though she was little more than a jumper of a new style.
The watchword of the ballet _habitués_ of this time was novelty at
any price. It is extremely amusing to read a Kansas City criticism of
Miss Collins’ performance in that city: ‘Lottie Collins has the stage
all to herself and she bounces and dances and races all over it in the
most reckless and irresponsible way, precisely as if she were a happy
child so full of health and spirits that she couldn’t keep still if
she wanted to. Sometimes she simply runs headlong all the way round
the stage, finishing the lap with perhaps a swift whirl or two, or a
whisk and kick. Sometimes she simply jumps and bounces, and sometimes
she doubles up like a pen-knife with the suddenness of a springlock to
emphasize the “boom.” She is invariably in motion except when she stops
to chant the gibberish that passes for verses, but the wonder is that
she has breath enough to sing after the first cyclonic interlude.’
Still more debased were the performances of Olga Desmond, Villiani
and others, who made erotic gestures and nude dances a fad of many
European capitals. The argument of these dancers was that dancing,
like sculpture, is predominantly an art of nudes. Only the naked body
could show the perfect plastic lines and graceful poses. They strove
to dance slow music, sonatas and symphonic poems, in order to display
the effects of certain pretty poses and arabesques. They put a special
stress upon the rhythm, but their interpretation was morbidly perverse.
The best figure of this decadent school of dancing was Kate Vaughan,
who strove to follow the style and manners of Taglioni’s dance. But the
sensation and novelty-loving public of England found her art too tame
and old-fashioned, so she died in poverty and broken health in South
Africa. Mr. Crawford Flitch says of her: ‘Although of course she never
reached the perfection of her predecessor [Taglioni], it was to her
careful training in the school of the ballet that she owed the ease and
grace of her movements and the wonderful effect of spontaneity with
which she accomplished even the most difficult steps. She danced not
only with her feet, but with every limb of her frail body. She depended
not merely upon the manipulation of the skirt for her effect, but upon
her facility of balance and the skillful use of arms and hands. Her
andante movements in particular were a glorious union of majesty and
grace. It is true that she condescended at times to introduce into her
dance some of those hideous steps which vulgarized the dancing of the
period--in particular that known as the “high kick”; but even this
unpleasant step she accomplished with a certain sense of elegance and
refinement which disguised its essential ugliness and suggestion of
contortion. She danced with a distinct inspiration, and upon her style
was built up all that was best in the dancing of her time.’
This new dance hysteria seemed to be of an epidemic nature. The
vogue for crude and sensational dances held the whole western world
for nearly half a century in its iron grip. With the exception of
Scandinavia and Russia, all Europe and America were affected by a
decadent dance taste. Novelty was reckoned far superior to beauty.
Cleverness was placed high above talent and genius. It was seemingly a
prelude to a subsequent effeminacy that was to spread over Occidental
art and life.