CHAPTER XIX

THE HOUSE OF VESTRIS

It is recorded that during one of the many revolts indulged in by

the dancers of the Paris Opera against managerial control, which

incidentally meant, of course, State and Royal control, some of the

leaders were sent to Fort l’Evêque--including Auguste Vestris.

So melodramatically pathetic was the farewell scene with his father,

Gaetan, that even his colleagues laughed! “Go my son,” said _le Diou

de la Danse_. “This is the most glorious moment of your career. Take

my carriage, and ask for the cell which was occupied by my friend the

King of Poland. I will meet every expense.”

And the great Gaetan is said to have added, with an air of injured

dignity, that this was the first time in history that there had been

“any difference of opinion between the House of Bourbon and the House

of Vestris!”

What _was_ the--“House of Vestris?” Well, it was a fairly numerous

one, of which, so far as our interest is concerned, Gaetan was

virtually the founder. He had a father it is true, who, being

employed, it is believed, in a Florentine pawnbroker’s, got into some

trouble and with his young family “cleared” to Naples. There being no

trains, “wireless” or Scotland Yard in those days, they stayed there

in safety for a while; the children, who had been taught music and

dancing, being made to exercise their talents in that direction for

their general support.

Palermo was the next move, where two of the girls, Marie-Therese and

Violante, with one of the sons, Gaetan, entered the Opera. After

that they seem to have scattered and travelled over most of cultured

Europe, appearing now in one opera house, now in another, and always

deeply engaged in love affairs. It is with their arrival in Paris,

and with Gaetan more especially that we now have to do.

He was one of the eight children of Thomas Vestris and his wife,

_née_ Violante-Beatrix de Dominique Bruscagli, but only of three of

the family have we much record, namely, Gaetan and the two sisters

already mentioned.

Gaetan-Appolino Balthazar Vestris was born at Florence in April,

1729, and in importance--though far from it in physique--was the

Mordkin of his era. There, however, the resemblance ceases.

He was a little man, with the biggest ideas of his own talents.

But his size did not detract from his merits, his sheer style as

a dancer; and from all accounts he is to be ranked as one of the

finest male dancers the world has ever known. Indeed, it is hardly an

exaggeration to say that he is one of the most important factors in

the history of the modern dance and that his influence as a teacher

is seen to-day in the real classic school, that is, the school

which is based on ages of tradition. For Gaetan was in his time the

supreme leader of the Dance, and undoubtedly gave a new standard and

tradition to Paris, the influence of which spread to every Opera

House on the Continent.

He is a link in a chain. One of the first dancing masters to assist

Louis XIV in establishing his Royal Academy of Music and Dance--and

modern theatrical dancing dates from that event--was Beauchamps,

whose pupil was “the great” Dupré. _He_ taught Gaetan Vestris. Gaetan

in turn taught his son Auguste, of whom, in his later years, Carlotta

Grisi was a pupil, and there may be some to-day who have studied

under pupils of Carlotta Grisi, who herself died comparatively

recently.

According to a contemporary biographer Gaetan made his _début_ at

the Royal Academy of Music and Dance “_sans retribution_,” in 1748;

entered there for study in 1749, became a solo dancer in 1751, a

Member of the Académie Royale de Danse in 1753; _maître de ballet_

in 1761 until 1770, and composer and master of Ballet from that year

until 1776.

From time to time he visited Stuttgart--as the Russian dancers to-day

have visited London--in vacation, and in the theatre there under the

direction of that master of ballet-composition and stage reformer,

Jean Georges Noverre, found greater scope for his artistic abilities

than in the more conventional work of the Paris Opera.

We have seen that by her invention of new and rapid steps, Camargo

infused new life into the technique of theatrical dancing some years

before the rise of Gaetan Vestris to supremacy. He, in turn, came to

bring a new influence mainly in the direction of a certain _largeur_

of movement and gesture, a certain grandiosity, as well as setting a

new standard in perfection of execution.

A contemporary critic declared: “When Vestris appeared at the Opera

one really believed it was Apollo who had come to earth to give

lessons in grace. He perfected the art of the Dance, gave more

freedom to the ‘positions’ already known, and created new ones.”

Undoubtedly he learnt much from Noverre, even as the latter had

learnt much from David Garrick. Noverre conceived the idea of

creating the dance with action, in short, the ballet-pantomime; at

least its creation was claimed, and by some of his contemporaries,

attributed to him; though we have seen that he had forerunners

in the Duchesse du Maine, and, too, in Sallé, who was an ardent

stage-reformer and seems to have influenced Noverre. But it was the

latter who took practical steps towards instituting the real ballet

in action, the true ballet-pantomime as we have seen it to-day.

Up to this time, opera-ballet had had a somewhat rigid form: there

were music, singing and dancing; but the dances were detached items

in the general effect. The regulation form was: _passe-pieds_ in the

prologue; _musettes_ in the first act; _tambourins_ in the second;

_chaconnes_ and _passacailles_ in the third and fourth.

In all this it was not the plot of the opera which decided the

introduction of the dances, but quite other considerations, such as

the particular excellence of particular dancers in their special

dances--the best performers usually appearing last. It was routine,

not the action of the story by which these things were ordered; and

the poet who had provided the plot, the musician who had composed

the music, the costumier and scenic artist, and even the ballet

master, each worked detachedly, without regard to consultation and

cooperation towards an artistic unity of effect.

The lines had been set, the routine laid down for all time; any

deviation therefrom seemed impossible, a thing vainly imagined only

by a heretic, who could not hope to win in a fight against the

established form and authority of the Opera. Yet the reformation

came. Noverre, the reformer, found in Gaetan Vestris a technical

exponent who responded to his influence; and in Dauberval, another;

and at Stuttgart the time and place for artistic experiment. It is

to this triumvirate that credit was given in their own time for

the reform of the _scène chorégraphique_, a reform which had to

struggle against and overcome tradition, prejudice, ignorance and the

obstinacy of authority. Slow progress was made at first. Stuttgart

had its effect, but the Paris Opera still clung to the bizarre

accessories which were then regarded as inherent to the dignity of

the theatre--the masks, under which the faces were hidden, the

towering wigs by which the heads were bowed; the absurd panniers; the

puffed skirts; the great breastplates, all forming the heroic panoply

by which the leading histrions were known for hero and heroine, and

traces of which may be found in those spangled figures beloved of our

grandfathers and grandmothers in their childhood, during the first

half of last century.

[Illustration: Gaetan Vestris

(_From an old print_).]

Gaetan Vestris was the first dancer who dared to discard that

absurd convention--the mask, and so reveal that expressive play of

feature which made _acted_ ballet possible. This was in 1770, when

he appeared in a ballet-pantomime on the story of _Medea and Jason_.

He astonished the audience by the dramatic force of his miming and

by the nobility of his physiognomical expression. One critic wrote:

“_Le mérite particulier de Vestris, c’était la grâce, l’élégance et la

délicatesse. Tous ses pas avaient une pureté, un fini dont on ne peut

se faire une idée aujourd’hui et ce n’est pas sans quelque raison

qu’on compare son talent à celui de Racine._”

For all his artistic talent as dancer and mime, however, Gaetan was

practically illiterate; ignorant of all save the art in which he

excelled; and his conceit was colossal.

One day, when he was coming from a rehearsal at the Opera, a somewhat

ample lady happened, in passing, to tread rather heavily on one of

his feet. In deep concern she apologised profusely, and expressed an

earnest hope that she had not seriously hurt him.

“Hurt me, Madam!” he answered. “Me? You have merely put all Paris

into mourning for a fortnight!”

His pride in his son was stupendous, and he once declared that, “If

Auguste occasionally descends to touch the earth it is merely out

of consideration for the feelings of less talented colleagues.” As

to himself, on one occasion he volunteered the assertion that his

century had produced but three really great men--Frederick the Great,

Voltaire and himself!

Of the many susceptible ladies who succumbed to the questionable

fascination of this “_Diou de la Danse_”--as in his Italianate-French

he called himself--the most notable--apart from his legitimate wife,

the beautiful _danseuse_ Heinel, whom he married in 1752--was Mlle.

Allard.

Born of poor and none too honest parents, Marie Allard first drew

breath on August 14th, 1742, at Marseilles, where at an early age she

entered the local theatre. On the death of her mother, she decided

to leave a disreputable father and made her way to Lyons, where she

found another not very brilliant theatrical engagement. At the age of

fourteen, tiring of Lyons, she set out to win fame in Paris, where

she entered the Comédie Française. In the course of time, she came to

know Gaetan Vestris, and with him she studied dancing.

She made her _début_ at the Opera in June, 1761, and delighted the

audience with the verve, grace and gaiety of her dancing. Though she

shone especially in comedy, she was noted as a clever actress in

tragedy; and while “Sylvie,” in the comedy-ballet of that name, was

one of her most successful parts, she is said to have moved beholders

to tears by her performance in Noverre’s “Medea.”

In the lighter _rôles_, however, she was especially popular, and from

the moment of her _entrée_ (she was the only dancer at the Opera who

was allowed to compose her own _entrées_, not edible!) her gaiety of

manner was such as almost to eclipse the real talent displayed in her

dancing.

Unfortunately, her public career came to a close all too soon for

her admirers, from a cause which even she with all her agility

and incessant exercise, was unable to control--a tendency to

_embonpoint_! She retired in 1781, and died in 1802; not before she

had seen the success of her and Gaetan Vestris’ son, Auguste, who,

known as Vestr’-Allard, seemed to combine within him the respective

choreographic perfections of mother and father.

Gaetan Vestris, having retired in 1782, lived until 1808, and

rejoiced to see his son acknowledged as supreme. On him he graciously

conferred the title of _Le Diou de la Danse_; and he declared that

it was, after all, only natural that Auguste should excel, since the

young man possessed one advantage over himself--he “had Gaetan for

his father!”

Auguste, or Marie-Auguste, to give his full name, was born at

Paris in 1760. He made his _début_ at the age of twelve in a

_divertissement_ entitled “Cinquantaine” with a _chaconne_, which he

danced in a manner such as had never been seen. In 1773 he made a

strikingly successful appearance as Eros in the ballet of “Endymion;”

and though already recognised as a master he entered the Academy

school in 1775 and the Opera in the following year. For some time he

accepted subordinate _rôles_, but gradually his consummate ability in

all he undertook brought him forward, and as he became more and more

the pet of the ladies of the Opera and the admiration of its patrons

he began to develop his father’s traits, especially conceit.

On one occasion the Director, de Vismes, annoyed at some impertinence

of the young man, said, “Monsieur Vestris, do you know to whom you

speak?”

“Yes,” Auguste replied, “to the farmer of my talent.”

It says much for that talent that his appearance at the Opera during

some thirty-five years, under Louis-Seize, the Republic and the

Empire, largely accounted for its prosperity in those amazing times.

He had his father’s grace, precision, suppleness, and style, but

more spirit and vivacity; a greater gift of mime; and was as good in

_genre_ as in the nobler _rôles_. He paid several visits to London,

always with success.

He married in 1795, a young dancer, Anne-Catherine Augier, who had

made her _début_ at the Opera two years before under the _nom de

théâtre_ of _Aimée_, but his infatuation for her modesty and charm

and many good qualities did not last any longer than had his other

infatuations for worse qualities in less desirable ladies, and his

infidelities led her to attempt suicide, with results that left

her more or less an invalid until death put an end to her unhappy

existence in 1809. Auguste Vestris himself died in 1842, and left

one son Auguste-Armand. He made his _début_ at the Opera, as did a

cousin, Charles Vestris, both being pupils of Auguste; and both went

abroad; but neither added greater brilliance to the family name than

had been achieved for it by first Gaetan, and then Auguste, the first

and most distinguished upholders of the House of Vestris.

The Art of Ballet · 第 9 / 15 章