by a leading critic was as follows: “Within the charming framework
of the four admirably painted scenes by Ryan there is a continuous
procession of ballet incident, the costumes quaint, picturesque,
poetic, splendid, and nevertheless suggestive always of old Spain.
Mr. Howard Russell, the designer, deserves great praise for the
fancy and versatility which he has been able to show without proving
unfaithful to his theme. While his beautiful dresses give rare
variety and character to the dances of maidservants, pages, millers,
grape-gatherers, brigands, wood-nymphs, in the earlier portions of
the piece, they are seen to really magnificent effect in the grand
gathering of all the Terpsichorean forces of the theatre in the final
tableau. The stage organisation of the Alhambra is always good.
Nowhere do we see better mass dancing; and nowhere either do the
dancers receive more assistance from the musician. M. Jacobi’s ballet
music is as sympathetic as its tunefulness is inexhaustible. This is
M. Jacobi’s eighty-ninth ballet here.” That last remark may come as a
revelation to those who do not realise how much of ballet we have had
at two London theatres in the past thirty years. “Don Quixote” was M.
Jacobi’s “eighty-ninth ballet” at the Alhambra, and--there were other
Jacobian productions to follow!
Mr. Alfred Moul in 1894 became the General Manager of the Alhambra
and the evidences of his long associations with the dramatic and
lyric stage were quickly apparent in the series of brilliant
successes with Ballet which now were placed to the credit of the
historic house of which he had assumed control.
A marked success in the summer of the same year was “Sita,” the story
of which dealt with an Indian girl’s hopeless love for the accepted
lover of her master’s daughter.
A grand spectacular ballet, on the familiar theme of “Ali Baba and
the Forty Thieves,” was the sensation of the close of 1894, more
particularly owing to the introduction of an “aerial ballet” by
the well-known Grigolati troupe. The treatment of the story was on
conventional lines, naturally, but the ballet was gorgeously staged,
and introduced an especially attractive dancer, Signorina Cecilia
Cerri, while Mlle. Louise Agoust, as Morgiana, added to the laurels
she had already won in other productions as a first-rate mime of
dramatic character. “Bluebeard” was another popular success on
familiar lines; and “Rip Van Winkle”--with Mr. Fred Storey, masterly
as Rip--yet another, towards the end of 1896.
Mr. Alfred Moul then staged “Victoria and Merrie England,” a “grand
national ballet in eight tableaux,” the scenario being arranged
and the ballet “invented” by Signor Carlo Coppi, the music being
by no less a personage than Sir Arthur Sullivan, M. Jacobi still
conducting, while the scenery was by Mr. T. E. Ryan, the costumes
by M. and Mme. Alias from designs by Mr. Howard Russell, the cast
including Signorina Legnani, Miss Ethel Hawthorne, Miss Julia Seale
and Miss Josephine Casaboni. The ballet was a huge success. It was
certainly one of the finest spectacular and “patriotic” productions
ever seen on the London stage, and it is one of the proudest records
of the Alhambra that the performances were honoured with nearly a
score of Royal visits.
One of the great successes of the spring of 1898 was a grand ballet
on the old theme of “Beauty and the Beast,” invented and produced by
Signor Carlo Coppi, with music by M. Jacobi, the interest being kept
up throughout in a _crescendo_ of pageantry. The sensation of the
production was, perhaps, the second tableau, “The Garden of Roses,”
in which the popular Signorina Cerri, supported by the _corps de
ballet_, appeared in a grand valse representing every known kind of
rose, each dancer being almost hidden by gigantic presentments of
the flowers--red, tea, moss roses and every other type--a luxurious
mass of living blossoms, weaving itself into ever fresh and endless
harmonies of colour and enchantment. Yet another gorgeous effect was
attained by a Butterfly ballet, and the whole thing was one more
triumph for Mr. T. E. Ryan as scenic artist, Mr. Howard Russell and
M. Alias, responsible for the wonderful costumes; a triumph indeed
for all associated with the production.
On the retirement of Mr. Moul, which took place in 1898, Mr. C.
Dundas Slater became General Manager, with Mr. James Howell as
Business Manager, Mr. Charles Wilson as Stage Manager, Mr. H.
Woodford as Secretary and Treasurer; and Mr. G. W. Byng as Musical
Director--the last two named gentlemen holding their appointments for
many years following.
A very popular production of this year was “Jack Ashore,” modestly
described as “an unpretentious Sketchy _Divertissement_ in One
Tableau” which was invented and produced by Mr. Charles Wilson, with
dances arranged by Signor Pratesi, and music by Mr. George Byng. It
had a delightful early nineteenth-century setting for its dramatic
little story and was capitally done by a cast including Miss Julia
Seale, Miss Casaboni, the Misses Grace and Sybil Arundale, Mr. Albert
Le Fre, and the Brothers Almonti.
An attractive production of the following year was “A Day Off,”
which, however, was somewhat outshone by the beauty of “The Red
Shoes,” a fine spectacular ballet based on Hans Andersen’s famous
story, with a good cast including Mlle. Emilienne D’Alençon, Miss
Julia Seale, and Miss J. Casaboni--a very vivacious and attractive
dancer.
Two noteworthy ballets of 1900 were “Napoli,” in one scene, written
by Signor Giovanni Pratesi, produced by Mr. Charles Wilson, with
music by Mr. George W. Byng; and a patriotic military display,
“Soldiers of the Queen,” produced by Mr. Charles Wilson, under the
direction of Mr. C. Dundas Slater, the scene representing Queen’s
Parade, Aldershot, from sunrise to sunset, concluding with an
Inspection and Grand March by the combined bands of Infantry, Drums
and Fifes, _corps de ballet_, chorus and auxiliaries, numbering
over two hundred and fifty, and representing some thirty leading
regiments. Needless to say, produced as it was when patriotic feeling
was at its height on account of the Boer War, it was as successful as
it was magnificent.
A “romantic nautical ballet,” in three scenes, entitled “The Handy
Man,” followed in January, 1901. It was written and produced by
Mr. Charles Wilson, with music by Mr. George W. Byng, and dances
arranged by Signor Rossi. In the same programme was a vocal _ballet
divertissement_, “The Gay City,” by the same author and musician,
the dances arranged by Mme. Cormani. Later this was retained, and
was followed by a “fanciful” grand ballet, entitled “Inspiration,”
invented and written by Mr. Malcolm Watson, the music being by Mr.
George W. Byng, and the dances by Signor Carlo Coppi, the cast
including Miss Audrey Stafford, as the Goddess of Inspiration, Miss
Judith Espinosa, as the Genius of Inspiration, Miss Edith Slack, as
a Greek Dancer, Mr. Fred Farren, as Caliban, and other well-known
people. The year closed with a charming _divertissement_, “Gretna
Green,” and a revised edition of “Soldiers of the King.”
[Illustration: Mlle. Palladino in “Nina” at the Alhambra]
[Illustration:
_Dover St. Studios_
Mlle. Britta]
“In Japan,” a delightful ballet, adapted by Mr. S. L. Bensusan, from
his story, _Dede_, with music specially composed by M. Louis Ganne,
proved particularly attractive. There was a good story, the acting
and dancing were unusually good, and the mounting and stage effects,
under the direction of Mr. C. Dundas Slater and Mr. Charles Wilson,
were fresh and beautiful, especially the “Ballet of Blossoms.”
The theatre at this period was now again to come under the influence
of Mr. Alfred Moul. At an Annual General Meeting of the Shareholders
at the commencement of the year 1902, when the fortunes of the
theatre seemed once more uncertain, Mr. Moul was invited again by
both Shareholders and Directors to assume control. He responded, and
within a few weeks was installed as Chairman of the Company, once
more throwing his energies into a congenial task. One of his first
achievements was to secure the services of an old _protégé_ and a now
eminent musician, Mr. Landon Ronald.
From the pen of that accomplished artist came the music for a
spectacular Patriotic Ballet entitled “Britannia’s Realm,” in a
prologue and four scenes, invented and produced by Mr. Charles
Wilson, with dances by Signor Carlo Coppi. It was one of the best
planned and most extraordinarily sumptuous productions ever seen
at the Alhambra, long famous for the splendour of its effects, and
while there were several charming novelties, such as the _Pas des
Patineurs_, in the Canadian Skating Carnival scene (the music of
which must still haunt those who heard it), for sheer magnificence
probably nothing finer has ever been produced on the Alhambra stage
than the Indian jewel scene, and the grand _finale_ representing
“Homage to Britannia,” and the formation of the Union Jack. It was a
remarkable achievement, and well deserved the enthusiasm with which,
night after night for some months, it was received.
An excellent ballet of 1903 was “The Devil’s Forge,” invented by
Mr. Charles Wilson and Mme. Cormani, with music by Mr. George Byng.
This also ran for some months, and was a charming and dramatic work,
beautifully staged, and uncommonly well acted, particularly good
work being done by Miss Edith Slack (a clever mime) as the hero,
Karl, and Miss Marjorie Skelley, a sound and graceful dancer, as the
Fairy of the Mountain.
Before this was withdrawn a delightful adaptation of “Carmen” had
been staged, with much of Bizet’s music, ingeniously handled by Mr.
George Byng, who had composed some admirable extra numbers. It was
finely staged, notable for the strength of the cast and vitality of
the entire _corps de ballet_, but above all for the superb acting of
Guerrero as Carmen and M. Volbert as Don José.
Apart from Guerrero’s fine presence, her magnificent dancing, the
breadth, realism and intensity of her acting throughout, all of which
one could never forget, there were two particularly memorable moments
of that production; one was the fortune-telling scene, the other--the
scene in which Carmen flirts with the Lieutenant of Gendarmes in
order to lure him away from the gipsy camp, and is dividing her
attention between her flirtation and the knowledge that Don José has
only just been frustrated from stabbing her while so engaged, by the
sudden intervention of her comrades, who are endeavouring to drag him
away silently so that the Lieutenant who is just in front shall not
hear and so discover the presence of the gipsy band.
In the card scene, Guerrero gave in all its fullness the sense of a
tragic, overhanging doom. In the other, all the combined cunning and
fighting instinct of a savage animal at bay with circumstance, and
trying by sheer cunning and audacity, to master it, came out, and it
was not acting but reality, the real Carmen of Mérimée extricating
herself and her comrades from discovery and disaster by superb daring
in the use of her dazzling, unconscionable charm.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE ALHAMBRA 1904-1914
There was plenty of novelty and ample charm in “All the Year Round,”
a ballet in seven scenes, written and produced by Mr. Charles
Wilson, with bright and appropriate music by the well-known _chef
d’orchestre_ of Drury Lane, Mr. James Glover, on January 21st, 1904,
by which time the late Mr. George Scott was Manager.
It was one that should always be worth revival, with topical
modifications, and though a genuine ballet with a central idea
connecting its varied scenes, it seemed in form somewhat to herald
the _revue_ which has since become such a craze. It was what one
might call a ballet in free form.
The chief theme was the whim of a young French Marquis, who, having
invited friends to a dinner-party and engaged a Hungarian band for
their entertainment, himself turns up late to find that his _chef_
is about to resign because the dinner is spoilt, and the servants
are on the verge of striking, while the guests are dancing. Annoyed
at a clock which reminds him of his unpunctuality, he orders its
destruction. The band now “strikes” and as everything is topsy-turvy,
the young host--not too blasé to enjoy any new freak--suggests that
servants and guests shall change places. This done, they welcome in
the New Year, and on the departure of the last guest, the butler
brings his master a large Calendar which the young man is mockingly
about to destroy also, when the Spirit of Happiness descends from
it, and as he pursues her, she asks him to learn how he may obtain
Happiness throughout the dawning year--thus paving the way for a
sort of _revue_ of the Months.
The scheme gave scope for a number of charming and novel effects and
topical reference to various old festivals, such as St. Valentine’s
Day, St. Patrick’s Day; various sports and pastimes; a river scene, a
seaside bathing scene, an August Bank Holiday Revel. But the greatest
charm of the production was in scenes where a more poetic fancy had
had free play, as in the May scene, with the approach of Spring, a
glory of white and pink may, lilac and laburnum, and heralding the
blossoms of early summer, finishing with a ballet of swallows and May
flowers.
The Autumnal scene, with its ballet of wheat, cornflowers, poppies
and autumn leaves, was a charming incident and provided an excellent
contrast to the earlier scene in the warmth of its colouring. The
November scene was, rightly enough, placed in London, on the Thames
Embankment by Cleopatra’s Needle, amid a typical London Fog; while
that of December closed with a grand Christmas ballet of holly and
mistletoe and icicles, with snow-clad tree and hedgerow in the
background.
It was indeed a capital production and was still in the programme
when a new and topical ballet, “The Entente Cordiale,” was staged on
August 29th following. This also was invented and produced by Mr.
Charles Wilson, with excellent music by Mr. Landon Ronald, and dances
arranged and composed by Signor Alfredo Curti, who was for the next
few years to be closely associated, in the capacity of _maître de
ballet_, with the Alhambra Theatre.
The opening prologue took place in the “Grove of Concordia,” where
the five Great Powers of Europe assemble to pay homage to the Goddess
of Progress. But, later, the Demon of War enters upon the world-stage
and stirs up strife among the Nations, so that all the horrors of
War are felt throughout the world, until finally Peace prevails
and summons the Ambassadors to enter and the Nations to assemble in
the Temple of Peace, where the Representatives of all the Nations,
assisted by the Orders of the Legion of Honour of France and the
Garter of England, at last form a grand alliance of all the Powers
and ensure the peace of the world in one _Grande Entente Cordiale_, a
scene of splendour strangely annulled in the face of present history
but, let us hope, prophetic of the future.
“Parisiana,” a grand ballet in six scenes, invented and produced by
Mr. Charles Wilson, with music by Mr. James W. Glover, and dances
arranged by Signor Alfredo Curti, and some gorgeous costumes by
Alias, from designs by Comelli, gave us in 1905 fascinating glimpses
of Paris at various periods--1790, 1830, 1906. Among noteworthy
members of the cast were Mlle. Jane May, heroine of the earlier
production of “L’Enfant Prodigue,” and one of the finest modern
mimes; and also Miss Edith Slack, Miss Cormani, Signor Santini, and,
for a time, Signorina Maria la Bella.
Between October, 1906, and May 14th, 1907, the Alhambra underwent
partial reconstruction, with complete and elaborate redecoration,
under the supervision of Mr. W. M. Brutton, the Alhambra Company’s
architect; and big as the task was it was carried through with entire
success and with additional triumph in that it was done without
closing the theatre for a single night!
Mr. Alfred Moul had now assumed the dual task of Chairman and
Managing Director, with the result that under the influence of a
gentleman of extensive theatrical experience, and wide musical
culture, the Alhambra entered upon a new and even yet more brilliant
phase of artistic success in 1907, when “The Queen of Spades,” a
striking ballet of which the action and dances were composed and
arranged by Signor Alfredo Curti, was staged and proved so successful
as to run into a second “edition” and continue in the programme for
some months.
Signor Alfredo Curti hailed from the Scala, Milan, where he had
studied the difficult art of Ballet composition on the historic lines
laid down by the virtual founder of the Milan school, Carlo Blasis,
of whom, as of Noverre, he was a great admirer, and about whom I had
many an interesting conversation. Signor Curti, whose scholarship in
the history of the dance was remarkable, was an enthusiastic follower
of the traditional school, and as an accomplished dancer and mime, an
artist, trained geometrician, and devotee of literature and music,
he brought to bear on his work as composer of Ballet, a theatrical
experience and artistic sympathy, somewhat akin to that of Blasis
himself; and while the action of his ballet was always coherent and
dramatic his appreciation of stage effect and handling of massed
groups of dancers in motion, were uncommonly fine.
In the production of “Queen of Spades,” a dramatic ballet, the
story of which dealt with the allure of gambling, he was supported
on the musical side by that distinguished Italian composer, Signor
Mario Costa, some additional numbers being contributed by Mr. George
W. Byng, the costumes, of course, being by Alias, from designs by
Comelli, and scenery by Mr. T. E. Ryan.
With Signorina Maria Bordin, a finished dancer of the typical Italian
school, as _prima ballerina assoluta_, seconded by that admirable
mime, Miss Julia Seale, Signorina Morino, Signor Santini, and an
excellent _corps de ballet_, the production achieved instant success,
and enthusiastically appreciative audiences found special reason for
approval in the novelty of the stage effects, such as the “Dream
Visions” in the third scene, with its “Valse des Liqueurs,” the
“Grand March of Playing Cards and Roulettes,” the novel “Bridge”
minuet; the “Conflict between Evil and Good,” not to mention the
dramatic effect of the “Temptation” scene which followed, and the
gorgeous finale in the “Nymphs’ Grotto of La Source.”
Ambitious and successful as was this production, it was followed, in
October, 1907, by one even more striking, namely, “Les Cloches de
Corneville,” adapted from Planquette’s world-famous _opéra comique_.
The _ballet d’action_ was invented and presented by Signor Alfredo
Curti to the original music, as ingeniously selected, arranged and
supplemented by Mr. George W. Byng. Some wonderful costumes were
supplied by Alias from designs by Comelli, and the entire spectacle
was produced under the personal direction of Mr. Alfred Moul. Signor
G. Rosi gave an uncommonly fine study of the miserly Gaspard,
Signor Santini making a “dashing” Marquis de Corneville, Miss Daisy
Taylor an attractive Germaine, Miss Julia Seale playing cleverly as
Grenicheux, Signorina Morino as Serpolette, while Signorina Maria
Bordin won fresh laurels as the Spirit of the Bells, a part naturally
calling less for dramatic ability than for the music of motion.
The production was beautifully staged. No prettier scene has ever
been set on the Alhambra stage than that of the Hiring Fair and Apple
Harvest, with its dance of apple-gatherers and sabot dance; nor one
more gorgeous than the last, in the Baronial Hall of the Corneville
Château, with its striking Grand March of Knights. The ballet ran
continuously _for over seven months_, and was revived with no less
success two years later.
Once more a “topical” ballet held the place of honour in the
programme on May 25th, 1908. “The Two Flags,” a Franco-British
_divertissement_, arranged and produced by Signor Curti, with some
capital music by Mr. George W. Byng, was presented under the personal
direction of Mr. Alfred Moul, the chief _rôle_ of “La Gaieté de
Paris” being taken by Mlle. Pomponette--the very personification of
French _enfantine_ gaiety--well supported by Miss Julia Seale, Signor
Rosi, Signorina Morino, and other Alhambra favourites.
In the same programme was given, under the title of “Sal! Oh My!” an
amusing satire on what we may term the Salome School of Dancing, then
recently instituted by Miss Maud Allan. The Alhambra skit, described
as “a musical etcetera” (the delightful music of which, by the way,
was by Mr. George W. Byng), served to introduce to a London audience
for the first time La Belle Leonora, a very handsome _danseuse_ of, I
believe, Spanish origin, who was, for several seasons, to become the
“bright, particular star” of the Alhambra.
These two productions held sway for some months, but gave place in
October, 1908, to “Paquita,” a charming romantic ballet arranged
and produced by Signor Alfredo Curti, with music by Mr. George W.
Byng, who once more proved his talent for composition of the kind
essential for ballet, music rich in expressive melody, dramatic in
orchestration, and always appropriate to the action and mood of the
situation. The production introduced to London audiences for the
first time, Mlle. Britta, a young Danish dancer, with an interesting
personality and a marked gift for acting.
In the same programme was included “On the Square,” a
_divertissement_ arranged and produced by Miss Elise Clerc, the scene
of which was laid in Herald Square, New York, and formed a background
for dances by newsboys, flower-girls, equestriennes, cake-walks,
“apache” dances, a dance of “Fluffy Ruffles and Rough Riders,” a
clever eccentric _pas de deux_, by Miss Elise Clerc herself and the
late Mr. Frank Lawton (the whistler, who first came into prominence
in London in the original production of “The Belle of New York”),
the most attractive item in the whole production perhaps being a
marionette _pas de deux_ by Mlle. Britta and Miss Carlotta Mossetti,
a clever dancer and mime.
[Illustration:
_Hana_
Mme. Guerrero]
[Illustration:
_Dover St. Studios_
Mlle. Leonora]
The _divertissement_ held its place in the programme for a
considerable time, but was in general character hardly up to the
artistic tone of the Alhambra’s past; and the production of “Psyche,”
a classic idyll in three scenes, of which the dramatic action and
dances were by Signor Alfredo Curti, and the melodious, and always
expressive music was by Mr. Alfred Moul, came as a welcome relief to
the banalities of ragtime, the more so in that it provided a fine
opportunity for another striking success by Mlle. Leonora, whose
statuesque grace was particularly well displayed by the classic
beauty of the setting provided for her.
“Femina,” another fine production by Signor Curti, gave Mlle. Leonora
opportunities, of which she fully availed herself, more especially in
her own national dance, and Mlle. Britta achieved a marked success
both as dancer and actress. Since then the more recent influx of
Russian dancers to the Alhambra, in “The Dance Dream,” invented and
produced by Alexander A. Gorsky, and notable for superb mounting and
the fine dancing of Mme. Catrina Geltzer and M. Tichomiroff; then the
exquisite “1830,” and since then again, another superb production of
a new version of “Carmen,” produced by Mr. Dion Clayton Calthrop,
and with some especially fine dancing by La Malaguenita and other
Spanish artists, all offered us fresh and delightful examples of the
enterprise of the management responsible for them.
We must, however, leave any further consideration of the many
notable examples of Ballet at the Alhambra, which during the past
two or three years has been mainly given up to the _Revue_; and
must now turn to the Empire where an extensive series of always
artistic productions have provided those who witnessed them with many
interesting and happy memories.
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE EMPIRE 1884-1906
Before it opened its doors as a regular theatre, with the late H. J.
Hitchins as Manager, on April 17th, 1884, the Empire had “played many
parts.” The site had been occupied by a royal residence which became
in time a picture, or exhibition gallery and a café chantant, before
being burnt down in 1865. Then the late John Hollingshead and some
friends proposed erecting a theatre on the site, but the scheme fell
through and the ruin remained ruinous for some years, until it became
for a time a panorama of Balaclava. Then a theatre was started, to
be called the Pandora, but did not get finished under that title.
Finally it opened as the Empire in 1884, with “Chilperic,” a musical
spectacle in three acts and seven tableaux, founded on the opera
adapted by H. Hersee and H. B. Farnie, with music by Hervé. The
production included three grand ballets invented and arranged by
Monsieur Bertrand.
The sensation of the third act was a “midnight review and electric
ballet of fifty Amazons, as invented by Trouvé, of Paris (being the
first time where three electric lamps are carried and manipulated by
one person, with the most startling and gorgeous effect).”
The dancers included Mlle. Sismondi, Mlle. Aguzzi and Fräulein
Hofschuller; and the costumes by Mons. and Mme. Alias were after
designs by Bianchini, Faustin and Wilhelm, the last name being famous
in association, from the opening in 1884, with the many brilliant
productions at the Empire.
It does not seem to be commonly known that while still counted as
a “theatre,” the Empire was already foreshadowing its destiny as a
home of English Ballet. The production of “Polly” was followed by
a real ballet, a version of Coppélia--_not_ that of Delibes--but
one founded on Hoffman’s famous story, with music by Léo; Delibes’
“Sylvia” also being produced at about the same period. Probably few
people of to-day are aware that the famous ballet “Giselle” was also
given in these early days at the Empire, in December, 1884. And
again, on December 21st, 1885, was produced “Hurly Burly,” a military
pantomime ballet. Yet again, on June 12th, 1886, came “The Palace of
Pearl,” in which there were a Moorish ballet, with a Mlle. Luna as
_première_, and a lace ballet, in which Mlle. Pertoldi was the bright
particular star. The Empire was afterwards occupied for a time by the
Gaiety Company in burlesque, while a French company was occupying the
Gaiety, and, later, by the musical extravaganza, “The Lady of the
Locket,” in which Miss Florence St. John played the lead, and Mr.
Hayden Coffin, I believe, made his first appearance as “Cosmo.” Mr.
Edward Solomon’s opera, “Billee Taylor,” was also mounted for a short
run, as well as--on March 3rd, 1886--a version of “Round the World in
Eighty Days,” in which Miss Kate Vaughan and Mons. Marius appeared.
Its career as a regular theatre not being as successful as had
been hoped, a fresh licence was obtained, and on December 22nd,
1887, under the joint direction of Mr. George Edwardes and the
late Sir Augustus Harris--with Mr. H. J. Hitchins as Manager--it
started afresh as a theatre of varieties, with Ballet as its chief
attraction, and it at once assumed an important place as one of the
leading variety houses of the world.
At the beginning of the Empire’s prosperous career a wise choice was
made in the selection of the late Madame Katti Lanner as _maîtresse
de ballet_.
Daughter of the famous Viennese waltz composer, Joseph Lanner--who,
when he died, was followed to the grave by some ten thousand
people--and herself a keen lover of music, Mme. Katti Lanner had been
in her earlier years a famous _danseuse_, who had appeared as a child
at the Vienna Opera-House, and later made her world-tour, as great
dancers did then and do to-day.
She told me, in the first of many pleasant interviews I had with her
in her retirement, how, as a young girl, she had danced with Cerito,
and with Fanny Elssler, and how the latter had prophesied for her a
successful career; and she spoke with deep enthusiasm of the personal
fascination, the brilliant art, and the noble bearing of the great
dancer who was known to London of the ’forties as the “divine” Fanny.
In the course of time Mme. Lanner came to settle in London, and
had produced ballets at Her Majesty’s--at which she had also
appeared--and at Drury Lane, before her invaluable services were
secured by the far-seeing management of the Empire in 1887.
She had already, some ten years before, established her National
School of Dancing; and with this to draw upon, it was only natural
that, from the first, her productions at the Empire should be
marked by a uniformly high standard of technique. At no theatre or
opera-house can a high standard be maintained unless it can draw upon
some such school, either on the premises or off, where young talent
is fostered and developed, where consistent practice is kept up under
critical eyes, and where a uniform degree of technical efficiency and
a high sense of style are cultivated. So it has been with Milan and
Paris, Vienna and Petrograd; and so it became when Mme. Lanner began
her association with that series of productions at the Empire of
which it may be truthfully said that each achieved both artistic and
financial success.
The programme on the opening night, Thursday, December 22nd,
1887, included two ballets, “Sports of England” and “Dilara.”
The former--the costumes for which were designed by Mr. Percy
Anderson--was, as its title betokens, a representation of the various
British sports and pastimes, and was naturally very popular with the
_habitués_ of the Empire. The second--the costumes of which were
designed by Mr. C. Wilhelm--was a brilliant spectacle, of Eastern
character; and both ballets, arranged by Mme. Lanner, with music by
Hervé, had a run of some months.
They were succeeded by “Rose d’Amour” in May, 1888, which those who
remember it speak of to-day as one of Mme. Katti Lanner’s greatest
triumphs. It was notable, too, for the appearance of such dancers
as Mlle. Adèle Rossi--who, I believe, had come from the Paris
Opera--Mlle. Santori, Mlle. de Sortis; Ænea, the flying dancer, and
the wondrous Mons. Cecchetti, who, gifted with amazing youth, was
appearing recently with the Russians at the Royal Opera, Covent
Garden. “Rose d’Amour,” like Darwin’s poem of a century earlier,
dealt with “the loves of the plants,” or at any rate of the flowers,
and the quarrels in flowerland. It was a long and rather elaborate
production, with a prodigal array of lovely costumes designed by
Mr. Wilhelm; and it rather opened the eyes of Londoners as to the
possibilities of the art of Ballet. “Diana,” a graceful idyll on
classic lines--the scenario of which was suggested by Mr. Wilhelm,
and arranged by Mme. Lanner--followed on October 31st of the
same year, with that graceful dancer, Mme. Palladino, and Signor
Albertieri in the cast, and, later, Mme. Malvina Cavallazzi, who
appeared for the first time in ballet skirts at the Empire, and
for the last time in the same typical costume; her subsequent
appearances being usually in male character, of which she was a truly
fine exponent. “Diana” was followed by “Robert Macaire.”
Early next year came the first London production of Paul Martinetti
and Hervé’s “A Duel in the Snow,” which was less in the nature of a
regular ballet than of pure pantomime, was a finely dramatic effort
well staged and acted. In the spring of ’eighty-nine was produced
another superb ballet, “Cleopatra” (inspired by Sir Rider Haggard’s
novel, then appearing in serial form in the pages of the _Illustrated
London News_), which ran for some four months and was immensely
admired.
In the autumn it gave place to a popular production, dealing with
the diversions, and bearing the title of “The Paris Exhibition”; and
in December of the same year, on the eve of Christmas Eve, came a
wonderful production, “The Dream of Wealth,” by Mme. Katti Lanner,
with music by that fine composer--so long afterwards associated
with the Empire--Mons. L. Wenzel, and with costumes and accessories
designed “as before” by Mr. Wilhelm. The cast included that superb
mime, Signora Malvina Cavallazzi, as a Miser; Signor Luigi Albertieri
as the Demon of Avarice; and dainty little Mlle. Bettina de Sortis as
_première_, representing “The Key of the Jewel Casket.”
The same admirable trio were included in the new ballet, “Cécile”
(by Lanner, Wenzel, and Wilhelm, again), which followed on May
20th, 1890, the _première danseuse_ being Mlle. Giuri, a dancer of
exquisite finish and singularly _élégante_ style, as well as a most
admirable mime. The period of the _divertissement_ was Louis-Seize,
and the production was very charmingly staged, one of the chief
points being a wonderful colour scheme of almost one tone, composed
of white and silver and mother-of-pearl. This was in the second
tableau, depicting a court in the palace of a Rajah who had very
wrongly abducted a pupil from a French school! In this ballet that
delightful English dancer Miss Topsy Sinden first made her London
_début_ as a tiny child, with her brother, Bert Sinden.
The spring of next year was marked by the production of “Orfeo,”
the scenario of which was by Mr. Wilhelm, the scenery by Telbin. It
was an impressive example of classic ballet. Mme. Cavallazzi was a
superb exponent of the title-_rôle_, Miss Ada Vincent was excellent
as Eurydice, and good support was given by Mlle. Adèle Rossi and
Signor Cecchetti. The autumn of the same year saw the advent of “By
the Sea,” perhaps the earliest of the “up-to-date” ballets; and on
December 22nd that of “Nisita,” the latter a romantic ballet with an
Albanian setting, a very pretty second tableau showing a “Revel of
the Fairies,” and with Mlle. Emma Palladino as the handsome heroine
Nita, and Mme. Cavallazzi as the hero, Delvinos. The first night this
was produced, December 22nd, 1891, by the way, there was one of the
very worst fogs London has ever seen, so thick that you could not see
the drop curtain from the third row of the stalls! But the innate
brightness of the production overcame its gloomy environment at birth
and it ran for months.
In May, 1892, came “Versailles,” another superb production for the
scenario of which, as well as of course the costumes, Mr. Wilhelm
was mainly responsible, though it was as usual “choregraphically”
arranged by Mme. Katti Lanner, with delightful music by Mons. Leopold
Wenzel. This ran until September, when “Round the Town” (a ballet
the scenario of which was by Mr. George Edwardes and Mme. Lanner)
was staged, and proved so popular as a topical _divertissement_ (not
unlike our present day _Revues_) that it held the bill for some
months. An interesting point in connection with this ballet was
that the late Miss Katie Seymour, one of the very neatest English
dancers that ever trod the London boards, joined the cast after
the production had run a little time, and as a Salvation Lassie
performed an eccentric dance with Mr. Willie Warde, also an extremely
able English dancer, that was one of the successes of the theatrical
season. In 1893, the theatre was closed from October 27th to November
2nd, owing to intervention by the County Council.
One of the finest productions yet seen at a theatre which by now had
become famous for its ballets, was “Faust,” first produced on May
6th, 1895. The scenario of this, as well as the costume designs,
were by Mr. Wilhelm, and it was an ingenious variation of the Gounod
version, the music not by Gounod, but by Mr. Meyer Lutz and Mr.
Ernest Ford, the ballet being arranged as usual by Mme. Lanner. Mme.
Cavallazzi was superb as Faust; Miss Ada Vincent was the Gretchen,
Mlle. Zanfretta was a striking exponent of Mephistopheles, and among
the cast was Mr. Will Bishop, a clever eccentric dancer, who was
associated with the Empire for several seasons. This was followed,
in the January of 1896, by a charming ballet entitled “La Danse,” in
which the history of dancing was illustrated and various dancers of
the older schools, such as Sallé, Taglioni and others, as well as the
modern, were typified. In October came “Monte Cristo”--another superb
production staged and designed by Mr. Wilhelm, to whom I am indebted
for many interesting details of the Empire’s history. This brings to
a close the record of success from the opening of the Empire in 1887
to the close of 1896. This first phase was one of increasing triumph;
a second, more splendid still, was to come. We had seen Ballet
perfect of its kind. But yet, perfection was to be crowned by the
supremacy of terpsichorean and mimetic art--the art of Adeline Génée.
“Under One Flag,” a topical ballet in celebration of Queen Victoria’s
Diamond Jubilee, in 1897, ran for some months. Before the close of
the year the Treasure Island tableau in “Monte Cristo” was staged,
and in this, on November 22nd, 1897, a certain historic event took
place--Mlle. Adeline Génée made her London _début_ at the Empire
Theatre.
One of her critics at the time wrote that: “Her _pas seuls_ commanded
encores which were thoroughly deserved. The dancer is lissom to a
degree and thoroughly mistress of her art. With her terpsichorean
ability she has the advantage of a prepossessing personality,
which will assist in endearing her to the public.” So much did
her personality endear her to the public that Mlle. Génée’s first
engagement at the Empire _for six weeks extended to over ten years_,
with return visits after that!
Looking back at the great dancers of the past, we see that all
illustrate the incalculable value of personality in art. The
technique of a Camargo or Sallé, Taglioni or Grahn, Karsavina or
Génée, has the same foundation--the traditional “five positions,”
which are to the Dance what the octave is to the sister art of Music.
Before a dancer can hope to appear with success on any stage she
must have acquired a knowledge of those “five positions,” and their
possibilities of choregraphic combination. The ease and rapidity with
which she illustrates them, the fluidity of the phrases and melodies
of movement which she evolves from them, and the qualities of
“finish” and “style” are finally achieved only by incessant practice.
She must attain as complete a mastery of the mechanism of her body as
can be attained. No technique in any art is acquired without labour;
and no success is won without technique. That much therefore can be
taken for granted in any great artist. But persistent practice and
the acquisition of a fine technique may still leave a dancer merely
an exquisite automaton if she has not “personality”; a quality
not readily defined, but which undeniably marks her as different
from others. Perhaps that is, after all, the truest definition--a
differentiation from others.
Endowed with the royal gift of personality, Mlle. Génée had worked
incessantly before she made her first appearance in London at about
the age of seventeen. Born in Copenhagen of Danish parents, the
famous dancer began her training when only eight years old, under
the tuition of her uncle and aunt, Mons. and Mme. Alexander Génée,
both of whom (the latter as Mlle. Zimmermann) had won considerable
reputation as dancers, and producers of ballet, at various
continental opera-houses and theatres in the ’sixties and ’seventies.
They had appeared at Copenhagen, Vienna, Dresden, Munich, Budapest,
and at Stettin, where Mons. Alexander Génée had a theatre for some
years, and where Mlle. Adeline made some of her earliest appearances
as a child. Subsequently she went to Berlin and to Munich, and it was
while dancing in the latter city that she was called to London by Mr.
George Edwardes on behalf of the Empire management.
Her first appearance here was emphatically a success. But it was her
performance as the Spirit of the “Liberty of the Press” in the famous
Empire ballet, “The Press” (invented and designed by Mr. Wilhelm with
the choregraphic support of Mme. Lanner and music by Mons. Wenzel),
on February 14th, 1898, that first marked her--and for many years
to come--as a London “star.” The ballet gave her scope for some
wonderful _pas_, and proved immensely popular. It was a novel idea,
artistically carried out, and illustrated the history and power of
the Fourth Estate. A number of charming coryphées were ingeniously
attired as representatives of the various newspapers, boys’ costumes
indicating the morning and girls’ the evening journals. The venerable
_Times_ was typified by a man in the guise of Father Time, with
hour-glass and other symbols of his ancient office, and accompanied
by a retinue. Mme. Cavallazzi represented Caxton, Father of the
Printing Press; Mlle. Zanfretta, the Spirit of Fashion; and there
were typical costumes for _The Standard_, _The Daily Telegraph_, _The
Globe_, _The Daily Mail_ (then two years old!), _The Illustrated
London News_ (who announced that she was “Established 1842”), _The
Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News_, _The Lady’s Pictorial_, _The
Sketch_, _The Referee_, and others too numerous to name. So popular
did the ballet prove that this also ran for months, and it was not
until October of the same year that a new production, “Alaska,” was
staged, the scenario of which was by Mr. Wilhelm, the choregraphy by
Mme. Lanner, and music by Mons. Wenzel.
The production which a contemporary critic described as “one of
the most gorgeous ballets ever produced at the Empire,” is another
example of the influence of topical events on the history of the
Ballet, for it was due to the discovery of the Klondyke goldfields,
the first news of which had come to us the year before, that is,
in Jubilee year, but the real wonders of which only began fully to
reveal themselves in the summer of 1898, when everyone talked and
dreamed of little else than “Klondyke”! The ballet opened with a
blinding snowstorm, and the scene, laid in the snow-bound regions
of the North-West, glowed, as the storm ceased, with the grandeur
of the Aurora Borealis. The story dealt with the adventures of one
Alec Wylie (Mme. Cavallazzi), leader of an expedition to Klondyke,
who, tempted by the Demon Avarice, quarrels with and leaves for
dead his partner, Frank Courage, whose life is saved by the ice
fairies and who is vouchsafed a vision of golden realms by the Fairy
Good Fortune. The production was rich in striking scenes and stage
effects, and once again Mlle. Génée further confirmed her growing
capacity to “endear” herself to London audiences by her performance
as the Fairy Good Fortune.
On May 8th of the following year, 1899, “Round the Town Again,” by
Mme. Lanner, Mr. Wilhelm and Mons. Wenzel, was produced. This was
entirely different from the original “Round the Town,” and with a
second edition, also further altered, in January, 1900, ran until the
end of August, 1900, that is, for fifteen months! Mlle. Génée, Mlle.
Zanfretta and Mr. Will Bishop were the leading dancers, with a change
of cast for a time when Mlle. Edvige Gantenberg took up Mlle. Génée’s
part of Lisette, a French maid, during the latter’s absence on a
brief holiday. A revised edition of “By the Sea,” under the title
of “Seaside,” came on in September, 1900, the cast including Mlle.
Génée, Signor Santini, Mr. Will Bishop and also Mr. Frank Lawton,
whose whistling had so long been one of the attractions, elsewhere,
of the “Belle of New York.”
Next came a fascinating ballet “Les Papillons,” the scenario and
staging of which were by Mr. Wilhelm. Of this an enthusiastic critic
declared: “It is, indeed, a beautiful butterfly ballet that the
Empire Theatre is just now able to boast. With it the management
draws crowded houses, and sends them away delighted--delighted with
the colour, exhilarated by the movement, charmed by the fancy, and
ready to sing the praises of all concerned in a truly marvellous
production, and particularly of Mr. Wilhelm, whose designs have given
further proof of the taste which governs his fertile imagination
and invention, and of Mme. Katti Lanner, for whom the dances and
evolutions mean another veritable triumph.” Mlle. Adeline Génée,
as lead, played “Vanessa Imperialis,” the Butterfly Queen, who
was “discovered” at the opening of the ballet fast asleep in the
lovely realm over which she reigned. A glow-worm patrol guarded her
slumbers, which ended with the coming of dawn, when she joined her
subjects and the flower-fays in dances, and the revels of a fairy
midsummer’s day dream.
On November 6th of the same year followed “Old China,” a delightful
ballet, invented and designed by Mr. C. Wilhelm, associated, as
usual, with Mme. Lanner and Mons. Wenzel, and with Mlle. Génée
as _première danseuse_. The opening scene showed a mantelpiece,
backed by a great mirror, in which the actions of a little Dresden
China Shepherdess (Mlle. Génée) and her two troublesome lovers,
were exactly repeated in the looking-glass, through which finally
the indignant damsel stepped--to the chagrin of her disconsolate
lovers--right into Willow Pattern Land, which formed the second
scene, and into which some particularly rich and beautiful effects
were introduced. “Old China” ran for some months, and on May 28th of
the following year was succeeded by another “topical” ballet, “Our
Crown,” again the work of the accomplished trio, who had so long
contributed to the success of the Empire productions, and were now
receiving the brilliant assistance of the Danish _première_, who had
thoroughly established herself in popular favour. It was, of course
in celebration of that crowning of the late King Edward which had
been so unhappily postponed, through his late Majesty’s illness on
the very eve of what should have been his Coronation. This, again,
was a most brilliant production, and the final tableau, practically
a “Staircase” scene, in which the great stage was built up with
groups representative of the jewelled products of the various British
colonies, rubies, emeralds, diamonds, pearls, was magnificent. As in
the case of the Victorian Jubilee ballet of five years before, this
was a conspicuous triumph in the particularly difficult sphere of
_ballets d’occasion_.
The first production of 1903 was also the first of what may be
called essentially the Génée ballets--ballets, that is, which seemed
more particularly than before, infused with the personality of this
accomplished dancer. Since her London _début_ in 1897 she had played
the leading part, certainly, but now it seemed almost as if her
personality coloured the whole ballet itself, even as unquestionably
her supreme technique set an example and had its influence in raising
the already high standard of technique throughout the _corps de
ballet_. The scenario and staging of “The Milliner Duchess” were by
Mr. Wilhelm, and the story was specially designed to give Mlle. Génée
an opportunity of further exhibiting her gifts as an actress. Into
a fashionable throng frequenting the establishment of an up-to-date
duchess who was running a milliner’s business was introduced her
demure little niece, impersonated, of course, by Mlle. Génée; and her
first entrance, in a gown of primitively early-Victorian simplicity,
was charming in its hesitancy, and one realised that she was
something more even than a finished dancer, namely, a born mime with
a fine artistic appreciation of the _nuances_ of comedy.
In her dance descriptive of the charms of country life, so clever
and so perfect was the combination of mime and dance that a positive
illusion was created; and only at the close did one realise,
suddenly, that it was veritably a song without words. A step, a
gesture, a little glance, and one could have sworn one heard a poet’s
lines! Popular as the dancer had already made herself, her work in
this particularly charming ballet confirmed the growing opinion that
here was a dancer who was supreme in her art as a dancer-mime; one to
be reckoned among any gallery of the great artists of the past.
In the autumn of the same year was staged a ballet by the same
experienced trio, Wilhelm, Lanner and Wenzel, entitled “Vineland,”
which introduced to us some novel and sumptuous colour schemes
and gave us the sensation of Mlle. Génée’s “champagne” dance, a
piece of terpsichorean music as sparkling as the most glittering
of Offenbach’s operatic melodies. Early next year there followed
the lively, up-to-date _divertissement_, “High Jinks,” in which
the leading parts were played by Mlle. Génée, Mlle. Zanfretta, Miss
Dorothy Craske, and Mr. Fred Farren.
An adaptation by Mr. Wilhelm from the popular Viennese ballet, “Die
Puppenfee,” under the English title of “The Dancing Doll,” was
produced on January 3rd, 1905, and was notable, among other things,
for Mlle. Génée’s impersonation of an automaton in situations not
very dissimilar from those of “La Poupée,” and a notable point in the
production was a delightful eccentric dance by Miss Elise Clerc and
Mr. W. Vokes, as a pair of Dutch dolls. This very successful ballet
went into a second edition on April 3rd, and on June 30th the theatre
was closed for redecoration.
When it reopened on October 9th of that year the _habitués_ found
considerable alterations had taken place under the direction of Mr.
Frank Verity, F.R.I.B.A., all designed for their increased comfort,
while the decorative style, representative of the true Empire period,
had a note of distinction hitherto lacking in some of the London
vaudeville houses, a note more in keeping with the demands of modern
times. The opening ballet, by Mr. C. Wilhelm and Mr. Sidney Jones,
was “The Bugle Call,” which had a well defined plot, and in which
Mlle. Génée played the part of a French bugler boy of the late
eighteenth century.
On the afternoon of January 6th (1906) a version of “Cinderella,”
one of the most charming of Mr. Wilhelm’s creations, was staged,
originally with a view only to _matinée_ performances, but it
proved so successful that it went into the evening bill on February
5th. The creator of the ballet had treated the age-long legend of
Cinderella with that respect for its mingled poetry and pathos which
an artist of sympathy must always feel for one of childhood’s most
appealing legends; and he provided Mlle. Génée once more with an
opportunity for proving her remarkable gifts as an actress, fully in
sympathy with the character and sufferings of the little heroine she
impersonated.
On May 14th, Delibes’ classic example of Ballet in its ideal form,
namely, “Coppélia,” was produced specially for Mlle. Génée, and
gave her, as the heroine, Swanilda, fresh opportunity for further
revelations of her amazing accomplishments as a dancer and for her
expressive acting; in which, by the way, she was admirably supported
by Mr. Fred Farren in the character of the old doll-maker, Coppélia;
and by Miss Dorothy Craske as Coppélia’s somewhat wavering lover. The
production was a great success. How should it have been otherwise?
Perfectly staged and perfectly performed, it is, with its haunting
Slav rhythms and flowing _valse_ melodies, one of the most charming,
and musically, one of the most expressive ballets in the world’s
_répertoire_.
This was followed on August 6th by one of the most exquisite
productions the Empire had yet seen, a ballet by Mr. C. Wilhelm,
entitled “Fête Galante,” which had been expanded from the opening
scene of “Cinderella.”
To see the “Fête Galante” was itself a liberal education in the art
of stage effect. It was an ideal realisation of the art of Watteau,
Lancret, and Fragonard. The very spirit of the period was caught, and
it was as if all that one had learnt at secondhand of the people, the
dress, the manners, dances, arts and music of the “Grand Century” in
France had suddenly awakened into life, and become a living reality
of which one was a living part. Yet, paradoxically, it was strangely
dream-like still, even as are Watteau’s pictures.
The scene represented a garden such as you see in so many of his
paintings, and those of his school, primarily reminiscent of Pater’s
“Conversation Galante” and Watteau’s “Fête Galante,” “L’amour au
Théâtre Français,” and the “Terrace Party.” One of the young Court
ladies reminded one of the central figure in the “Bal sous une
Colonnade.” A minuet was in progress. All was stately and dream-like,
made the more so by the music.
For all the gaiety of the huntsmen’s entrance it was gaiety demure,
as if restrained by an inherent sense of fitness with stately
surroundings; and so with the troupe of dancers, introduced for the
diversion of the Marquise Belle Etoile, and the Court ladies and
courtiers grouped about her. The mood of all, demurely gay, or gaily
demure, was suffused with a stately languor, a dream-like grace that
found an echo in the subtle colour-harmonies of the old-world garden
in which the people moved.
And when the opera-dancer, L’Hirondelle, and Passepied the master
of the revels, began their _pas de deux_, the climax of exquisite
illusion was reached, and Camargo was before us--the Camargo
of Lancret’s famous picture, with the soft, full white skirts,
trimmed with garlands of small pink roses and falling almost to the
ankle; Camargo with the red-heeled, red-rosetted shoes; with blue
shoulder-knot and powdered hair adorned with pale blue ribbons.
As the fête drew to a close the picture mellowed in the amber light
of a waning day; and, amid fallen leaf and chestnut bloom, slowly
marquise and prince, Court lady and courtier, dancer and page, began
in stately fashion to dance, their shadows lengthening in the failing
light, the music growing slower and dreamier as, little by little,
the picture was re-formed into the likeness of the opening scene, and
the falling curtain brought one back into the world of living things
to-day.
Another brilliant reconstruction of the Past was achieved by Mr.
Wilhelm in his creation of “The Débutante” (November 15th, 1906),
which revivified the men and maids and _modes_, the dance of life,
and the life of the dance, of that strangely interesting period of
the ’thirties and ’forties, the days of Pauline Duverney, Leroux,
Fanny Elssler, and Taglioni’s earlier years. The scene represented
the _Salon de Danse_ attached to an opera-house, the story dealing
with the refusal of a star to take up her part in a ballet which is
on the eve of production, her place being taken at the eleventh hour
by a _débutante_ (Mlle. Génée) with almost miraculous abilities.
For this production, and in order that the style of the earlier
dances should be represented on the stage with regard for accuracy
and tradition, Mme. Katti Lanner, who had left the Empire in 1905,
was induced to withdraw from her retirement temporarily at the
request of the Directors, and out of personal friendship towards Mr.
Wilhelm, with whose artistic aims she had so constantly shown her
sympathy. Her reappearance to take another “call” proved another
personal triumph. The ballet was indeed a charming work, fascinating
to students of the dance and mime; and it proved so successful that
a new one was not required until “Sir Roger de Coverley,” by Adrian
Ross and Dr. Osmond Carr, staged by Mr. Wilhelm, came into the bill
on May 7th in the following year. As its title betokens, it dealt
with the period of Queen Anne and showed a charming representation
of the life of old Vauxhall. This, too, ran for some months and
was succeeded on September 30th by “The Belle of the Ball,” which
delighted many old frequenters of the Empire with its recollection of
scenes from many of the earlier operatic favourites of the ’sixties
and ’seventies, such as “Madame Angot,” “The Grand Duchess,” and
other light operas, coming up to more recent productions, such as
“The Belle of New York,” “The Geisha,” and others.
[Illustration: Mlle. Adeline Génée]
The production marked the _début_ of that brilliant young English
dancer, Miss Phyllis Bedells, and also the end of Mlle. Génée’s
unbroken ten years’ reign at the Empire Theatre, the tenth
anniversary of her first appearance being celebrated on November
22nd, when the house was packed from floor to ceiling with a crowd
whose growing enthusiasm culminated in a perfect tornado of
applause on the falling of the curtain and something like a score of
“calls”; the dancer having achieved by her personality and technique
such a triumph as had not been known in London since the great days
of Taglioni and the famous _Pas de Quatre_ of the ’forties. She left
to carry her influence to America, but there were of course return
visits which concern us not at present in dealing only with what may
be styled her ten years’ reign.
But in watching that decade closely with all its procession of
successes, one thing there is that strikes one very forcibly. It
was only the natural corollary of the previous decade before the
advent of Mlle. Génée. For some twenty years the artistic influence
of one mind had been, never obtrusive, but invariably evident; never
obtrusive, that is, to the detriment of that balance of the arts
which makes a perfect ballet; I mean the artistic influence of Mr.
C. Wilhelm. Before the coming of Mlle. Génée they had had some good
dancers and some great artistic successes; but there had hardly been,
perhaps, quite that unity and perfection of _ensemble_ which the
coming of a dancer of superb technique made possible, and which, it
may be, enabled a designer of ballet, already of great experience
and inspired always by high artistic motives--not only to aim at,
but to _count on_, achieving just the effect at which he aimed.
Theatrical art must always be a somewhat composite art, but its best
achievements come from a perfect blending of artistic sympathies,
forming a source of mutual inspiration. So, while the personality and
technical accomplishment of Mlle. Génée must have proved a stimulus
to the poetic imagination of an artist like Mr. Wilhelm, so, too,
the famous Danish _danseuse_ could well afford to admit a debt of
inspiration to the refined, sensitive and poetic art of Mr. Wilhelm,
who has provided so invariably a worthy and gracious medium for her
supreme art as dancer-mime.
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE EMPIRE 1907-1914
When the news was first announced that an end was to come to Mlle.
Adeline Génée’s ten years’ reign at the Empire and that the famous
dancer was seeking, if not new worlds to conquer, at least to conquer
what was once always spoken of as “The ‘New’ World,” many who had
followed the progress of Ballet in London must have wondered where
anyone could hope to find a successor to her throne, and who would
have the courage to accept an offer thereof.
But London theatrical managers are not lacking in resource, or
English girls in courage; and it was with real pleasure that we
heard that so worthy a successor had been found as that graceful and
essentially English dancer, Miss Topsy Sinden, who had already been
associated with the Empire as a child some years before.
Of Mlle. Génée’s triumph in “The Belle of the Ball,” I have already
spoken. Shortly after, the production underwent a change, and the
fact that the new version was still in the bill on the following June
1st, proves the popularity of the production and of the Empire’s
choice of Miss Sinden as _première danseuse_. Her success was the
more interesting in that in temperament and in methods she was
entirely different from the famous Danish dancer. A typical English
girl, with all the charm of looks and manner implied thereby, she
had studied not so much the purely traditional French or Italian
school of ballet-dancing--though she had, of course, acquired that
too--but the English school; of which the late Miss Kate Vaughan was,
in her time, the finest exponent, and of which Miss Sylvia Grey, Miss
Phyllis Broughton, the late Miss Katie Seymour, Miss Letty Lind,
Miss Alice Lethbridge, and Miss Mabel Love, may be taken as leading
representatives during the past twenty years.
Miss Sinden had had long and invaluable stage experience before
becoming _première danseuse_ at the Empire; had appeared in pantomime
at Covent Garden, Drury Lane, at the old “Brit,” and at Liverpool
and elsewhere; had “done” the Halls; had appeared at the Haymarket
under Sir H. Beerbohm Tree’s management; had appeared at the Gaiety
in “Cinderella Up-to-Date,” “In Town,” “Don Juan,” “The Gaiety Girl,”
and “The Shop Girl”; at Daly’s in “The Greek Slave,” in “The Country
Girl,” and other productions; and always she won fresh distinction as
one of the most vivacious, _piquante_, graceful and finished English
dancers the London stage has ever known.
Her appearance in “The Belle of the Ball” was marked by the most
cordial welcome from the Press and the public, and one of the first
greetings she received on her return to the Empire was a telegram
from Brighton which ran as follows: “My good wishes, and I hope
you will do yourself justice. You are one of the best dancers I
know.--Adeline Génée.” That Miss Sinden _did_ do herself justice
was seen in the enthusiastic cheers and demands for _encores_ which
greeted her at the close of her scenes on that “big night” of her
return to the Empire stage.
“The Belle of the Ball” gave place to a revival of “Coppélia”
and--the return of Mlle. Adeline Génée. Many as her triumphs had been
during her ten years’ unbroken reign, that Wednesday night, June
10th, 1908, must be recorded in Mlle. Génée’s memory in letters
of gold, for even she can never have seen such a house, so crammed
from floor to ceiling with a distinguished audience, including King
George (then Prince of Wales), and been welcomed with such thunderous
cheering and applause as greeted her on her first appearance through
the little brown door of Swanilda’s balconied house, when she floated
down the stairs to the centre of the stage, so lightly indeed that
she seemed almost to flutter before the storm of enthusiasm which
welcomed her return. And how she danced! Only her peer among poets
could describe it, and then he would probably feel as Thackeray felt
when endeavouring to do justice to Taglioni in “Sylphide!”
For some seasons past we have had the Russian ballet as a standing
dish, over which various epicures have gloated as if no other fare
had ever been. But it is interesting to note that the first of “all
the Russias” was Mlle. Lydia Kyasht, who made her London _début_ at
the Empire, in some dances with M. Adolph Bolm, on August 17th, 1908.
For the present, and to preserve historical order, let the fact be
merely recorded, leaving further reference thereto until the time it
becomes necessary to chronicle the handsome Russian dancer’s later
successes.
On September 7th of that same year came the production of one of the
most perfect gems yet seen in the historic gallery of Ballet, namely,
“The Dryad,” a pastoral fantasy in two tableaux, by that brilliant
composer, Miss Dora Bright. From time to time, in such productions
as “The Milliner Duchess,” “Coppélia,” and “The Débutante,” we had
had an opportunity of realising something of Mlle. Génée’s gifts as
an actress apart from her supremacy as a dancer, but it was mainly
as a dancer, surrounded by dancers, that we have seen her. Now,
however, we were to have a conclusive revelation of the fact that
had Mlle. Génée not elected to become a great dancer she could have
achieved distinction as an actress. The story, of which she was the
heroine, gave her an opportunity of proving that; and with herself
in the title-_rôle_, that artistic singer, Mr. Gordon Cleather,
as a shepherd, and with the support of wonderfully expressive and
beautifully orchestrated _mimodrame_ music, the sister arts of dance,
song, mime, and music, were brought together to give us a balanced
harmony of lovely and memorable impressions.
The fantasy told how a certain Dryad, fairest of the Wood Nymphs,
subdued all mortals to her by her loveliness and the magic of her
dancing, whom the implacable Aphrodite caused to be imprisoned
in an oak tree, only granting her freedom to come forth once in
every ten years between sunrise and sunset until she should find
a mortal faithful to her during the allotted period. A shepherd,
passing through the wood on the night of her freedom, sees her
dancing beneath the moon, and is lured to love her and vows eternal
constancy. When the dawn breaks she bids him farewell and re-enters
the tree, which closes around her. After ten years have passed away,
the Dryad comes forth again seeking to allay the longing she has
kindled, but her lover had not been constant, and the wood is empty.
She dances through the night, deluding herself with hope until the
hour of her doom returns and she is compelled to re-enter the tree.
The Dryad, afire with joy at being released from the imprisoning
tree, and discovering the beauty of the sunlit, flower-strewn
forest glade; joyous in her love of the handsome shepherd and his
love returned; her sorrow at parting to return to the tree; her
deeper joy on her renewed release; her alternating hope and fear
as the concluding moment of the ten-year tryst draws nigh; her
eager search for her lover; the shuddering tremors of doubt as she
finds him not; her triumphant happiness as she hears his voice; the
heart-wringing suspense, and then the overwhelming despair, as she
finds he has forgotten her for another love and passes on his way,
leaving her solitary and doomed to be imprisoned yet again within
the tree, desolate amid autumnal desolation; these, and a thousand
more _nuances_, expressive of poetic emotion, were conveyed with a
sureness, a sensitiveness, a depth of instinctive dramatic genius
that astonished, delighted and enthralled.
So great was the success of “The Dryad” that Mlle. Génée’s engagement
was extended, but the strain of appearing in both “Coppélia” and
Miss Bright’s exquisite fantasy proving too considerable, the
famous dancer reserved her strength for her final appearance in the
latter, while Mlle. Lydia Kyasht, then comparatively a new-comer to
the Empire audiences, took up the part of “Swanilda,” in Delibes’
masterpiece with considerable success.
Ere departing for a forty weeks’ tour of America, Mlle. Génée gave a
farewell “professional” _matinée_ at the Empire, at which everyone
of note in “_the_ profession” was present, and gave her the same
enthusiastic appreciation as had always been accorded by the lay
public.
Following Mlle. Génée’s departure for America, and Mlle. Kyasht’s
appearance in “Coppélia,” came the production on October 19th, 1908,
of a ballet in five scenes by Lieut.-Col. Newnham-Davis, entitled
“A Day in Paris,” produced by Mr. Fred Farren, with music by Mr.
Cuthbert Clarke, the entire production being designed and supervised
by Mr. C. Wilhelm, who was at his happiest in invention and control
of colour in the prismatic beauty of the final tableau of the
Artists’ Ball.
On the occasion of her previous appearance Mlle. Kyasht’s name had
been printed in the programme as Mlle. Lydia Kyaksht, and I remember
well the humorous dismay the late Mr. H. J. Hitchins expressed to me
as he asked: “How _can_ one pronounce a name like that?” and the
eagerness with which he welcomed the suggestion that it would be
easier if the second “k” were omitted. Kyasht it became, and it is as
Mlle. Kyasht that we shall always remember the handsome dancer who
was first of the Russians to win a following in London. She had, of
course, received her training at the Imperial Theatre, Petrograd, to
which she had been attached some time, appearing there for some eight
months each year, and at Monte Carlo and other fashionable centres
for the remaining months, before she made her London _début_. She has
little of that vehemence and abandon which characterises so many of
the modern Russian school, but she has _au fond_ the same technique,
a finely formed and balanced figure, and personal beauty, and her
first appearances with that fine dancer, M. Adolf Bolm, in national
dances and _pas de ballet_ evoked very cordial admiration.
“A Day in Paris” was notable not only for the appearance of the
new Russian _première_ in a couple of _pas seuls_ and an extremely
charming _Danse Russe_, but for the brilliant acting and step-dancing
of Mr. Fred Farren, who as a Montmartre student freakishly
officiating as “a man from Cook’s” to a party of tourists, proved
himself a born comedian; while in association with that lithe and
graceful dancer, Miss Beatrice Collier, his _Danse des Apaches_--a
dance without the charm of beauty but undeniably clever--was one
of the “sensations” of the production, so much so that the dancers
became in much request for entertaining at social functions that
season, as Tango performers have been since. Another member of the
company, who, though but a child, achieved a marked success, was
Miss Phyllis Bedells, who did some wonderful toe-dancing with,
and without, a skipping rope. The ballet was one of the liveliest
and “jolliest” of many such topical and essentially “modern”
entertainments at the Empire, and it ran from October 1908, well into
the next summer.
Yet once again Mlle. Adeline Génée returned to the scene of her
former triumphs to achieve one more, this time in the famous
_ballet-divertissement_ from the third act of Meyerbeer’s opera,
“Roberto il Diavolo,” which was produced by her uncle, M. Alexandre
Génée, on July 3rd, 1909, the _mise en scène_ and costumes being
designed and supervised by Mr. C. Wilhelm. Once more we had an
opportunity of enjoying a perfect representation of one of the
classics of Ballet, in which Mlle. Adeline Génée appeared as the
Spirit of Elena the wicked abbess, who, with the spectres of the dead
and buried nuns, haunts a ruined Sicilian Convent. It was a fine and
_spirituelle_ performance, and a fitting crown to what we may perhaps
be allowed to call Mlle. Génée’s Imperial career.
This was followed on October 9th, 1909, by “Round the World,” a new
dramatic ballet in six scenes, by Lieut.-Col. Newnham-Davis and Mr.
C. Wilhelm, the entire production being designed and supervised by
the latter, and the dances arranged by Mr. Fred Farren, who himself
played the part of a resourceful chauffeur, while Mlle. Lydia Kyasht
impersonated the lovely heroine, Natalia, a Russian gipsy girl, and
Miss Phyllis Bedells her younger brother, Dmitri. The story concerned
the winning of a wager by the hero, a Captain Jack Beresford, (Mr.
Noel Fleming), who has to circle the world in a month; and the course
of his adventures took us from the grounds of the Monaco Club to the
Place Krasnaia, Moscow, on the occasion of a wonderfully realised
national fête, where he rescues Natalia and her brother from Tzabor,
a brutal proprietor of a troupe of gipsy dancers. The third scene
was on the Siberian railway; the fourth a lovely scene at Tokio, in
the Garden of Ten Thousand Joys, where the hero is nearly poisoned;
the fifth, ’Frisco, in “One-eyed Jack’s” saloon, with a capital
_Duo Mexicain_ for Mr. Fred Farren and pretty Miss Unity More; the
sixth and last scene being laid in the foyer of the Empire Theatre.
The production was a sort of cinema-ballet in the variety of its
scenes and the excitement of its story, and gave scope for a number
of attractive and characteristic dances from Mlle. Kyasht, Mr. Fred
Farren and Miss Phyllis Bedells. It proved so popular that it ran on
into 1910, when, on March 21st of that year, it went into a second
edition called “East and West.”
Mlle. Kyasht and M. Adolf Bolm, who, early in May, 1910, appeared
in a “Fantaisie Chorégraphique,” a series of charming dance-idylls,
produced by M. Bolm, are remarkable for that high-voltage
dancing, that volcanic energy and rapidity yet grace of movement,
characteristic of the Russian school, some notable exponents of which
were appearing just about the same time elsewhere.
The chief dance of the suite at the Empire was one in which Mlle.
Kyasht appeared as a beautiful Princess, and M. Bolm as her enamoured
slave--Mlle. Kyasht all charm and poetic ecstasy, M. Bolm all fiery
energy and terpsichorean miracles, now whirling madly as the wildest
of Dervishes, now suddenly stopping, poised and posed like some
perfect example of classic statuary. The dancers received excellent
support from Miss Phyllis Bedells and Mr. Bert Ford; the mounting
and costumes were novel and admirably designed; and the production
generally was voted a great success.
In the following July came a delightful _ballet-divertissement_, “The
Dancing Master,” by Mr. C. Wilhelm, adapted from the first scene
of his earlier success, “The Débutante,” the period chosen--that
of 1835--affording a delightful opportunity for a quaint and
picturesque _ensemble_ of “early-Victorian” or slightly pre-Victorian
character and costume. Mr. Fred Farren repeated his excellent
character-study of M. Pirouette, the excitable _maître de ballet_
at the Opera-House; Mlle. Kyasht made a handsome impersonation of
Mimi the _débutante_; and Miss Phyllis Bedells added to her laurels
as Mlle. Lutine, the clever head pupil. On August 8th of the same
year Miss Bedells took up Mlle. Kyasht’s part of Mimi during the
latter’s absence on a holiday, and made a great hit as a bewitching
representative of the _débutante_.
On October 10th following Mlle. Kyasht and Mr. Fred Farren appeared
in another of Miss Dora Bright’s ideal little fantasies, “The
Faun,” in which the former played Ginestra, a little flower-girl,
and the latter appeared in the title-_rôle_ as a marble faun who
comes to life when sprinkled with water from a magic fountain. The
production, designed and supervised by Mr. C. Wilhelm, was enchanting
in its blending of legend and mystery, with a sunny naturalism in
presentation.
It was a charming idyll, and provided an excellent opportunity for
clever acting by Mr. Fred Farren, who fully realised the classic
and poetic idea in his representation of the Faun, while Mlle.
Kyasht quite surpassed her former work in her appealing and dramatic
impersonation of the bewitched Ginestra.
A considerable contrast to the classic grace of this Tuscan idyll
was seen in the following month when “Ship Ahoy!” a nautical
one-scene _divertissement_ by Mr. C. Wilhelm, with music by Mr.
Cuthbert Clarke, was staged by Mr. Fred Farren, who also arranged
the dances. It was a lively and attractive production, with plenty
of fun and a dash of melodrama, the fun being contributed mainly by
Mr. Fred Farren as a dandy young officer on leave, and for all his
“dudism” wide-awake enough to frustrate the horrid machinations of a
treacherous Ayah (originally and admirably played by Miss Beatrice
Collier and later by Miss Carlotta Mossetti) and her accomplice.
The young officer’s lighter moments were happily given up to
entertaining the Anglo-Indian passengers on H.M.S. _Empire_ with
step-dancing, the nimbleness and neatness of which only Mr. Farren
can excel. Bright and charming dances were also contributed by
Miss Phyllis Bedells and Miss Unity More, while Mlle. Lydia Kyasht
distinguished herself as Léontine L’Etoile, a French _danseuse_; and
a special word of commendation is due to the freshness of invention
and novelty of effect achieved by the designer in dealing with the
somewhat hackneyed stage subject of life aboard ship. The final
_ensemble_, when the lady passengers improvised fancy ball costumes
from the ship’s flag-lockers and danced beneath the soft glow of the
swinging lanterns was a particularly novel, pretty and inspiriting
picture.
Once more we had a classic ballet when, on May 18th, 1911, Delibes’
“Sylvia,” which, originally in five tableaux, was compressed by Mr.
C. Wilhelm into one for production at the Empire. With its poetic
mythological story and charming sylvan setting, “Sylvia”--first
produced at the Paris Opera on June 14th, 1876--has always been
popular on the Continent; and it is curious that London should have
had to wait some twenty-five years before again seeing a ballet,
selections from which had long been familiar as _entr’acte_-music
for theatre orchestras. Still, it was worth waiting to see it so
admirably staged.
Another contrast followed in the extremely modern and somewhat
formless production, “New York,” an original ballet in two scenes,
by Lieut.-Col. Newnham-Davis, in which seemingly every form of
American eccentricity in dancing--including the “Yankee Tangle!”--was
introduced. There was a dance of Bowery boys and girls; a “Temptation
Rag,” by Mr. Fred Farren; a Buck Dance, an “Octette Eccentric”; a
“Bill-poster’s Dance”; the aforesaid “Yankee Tangle,” and other not
particularly beautiful or edifying examples, though the staging of
the “Roof Garden” scene gave one a very agreeable scheme of warm
crimson and rosy colour, and a picturesquely conceived and dressed
episode of Pilgrim Fathers and Red Indians.
Early in the next year, a brief but graceful “Dance Episode” was
staged, “The Water Nymph,” arranged by Mlle. Kyasht, who followed
on September 24th with another, entitled “First Love,” in which
she was supported by Mons. Alexander Volinin. This was followed on
February 11th, 1913, by another fanciful ballet-idyll, “The Reaper’s
Dream,” in which Mlle. Lydia Kyasht appeared as the “Spirit of the
Wheatsheaf,” seen and pursued in his dream by the reaper (Miss F.
Martell); while Miss Phyllis Bedells made a dazzling personage as
“Sun-Ray,” flitting in and out the autumn cornfield, which formed
the setting for some very pretty dances by the three ladies and the
Empire _corps de ballet_.
One of the most artistic productions at the Empire in quite recent
years was certainly the choral ballet, in three tableaux: “Titania,”
which, adapted of course from Shakespeare’s “Midsummer Night’s
Dream,” was arranged and produced by Mlle. Lydia Kyasht and by Mr.
C. Wilhelm, the latter of whom was, as usual, entirely responsible
for the pictorial side of the ballet. It is interesting to note
that this was not the first time a Shakespeare play had been so
treated. No less a person than the great Dryden had adapted “The
Tempest” at a time, shortly before the Great Fire of London, when
Sir William Davenant was producing “dramatic operas” at a theatre
designed by Wren, the Duke’s Theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, which
he held under a patent granted in 1662 by Charles II. These, as an
earlier historian records, were “all set off with the most expensive
decorations of scenes and habits, with the best voices and dancers.”
[Illustration:
_Dover St. Studios_
Mme. Lydia Kyasht]
[Illustration:
_Hugh Cecil_
Miss Phyllis Bedells]
Then, too, it was but a return to early history to give us
vocal-ballet, for all the earliest ballets on the French stage
were always described as “opera-ballets,” long declamatory and
choral scenes being interspersed with dances. Lulli, Rameau, Mouret,
Campra and Monteverde were among the composers of such ballets, many
of which, musically at least, seem wonderfully fresh to-day. This,
however, is but a digression. “Titania” at the Empire was a very
graceful and poetic production, quite fairy-like enough, one feels,
to have delighted even Shakespeare himself, with Mlle. Lydia Kyasht
as a truly regal-looking Titania, Mr. Leonid Joukoff as a dignified
Oberon, Miss Unity More as a nimble Puck (a part later played by Miss
Ivy St. Helier), and Miss Phyllis Bedells as an enchanting “first
fairy,” Philomel. On Mlle. Kyasht’s departure for America the part of
Titania was taken up by Miss Phyllis Bedells, who added yet another
to her growing list of artistic successes. The ballet, which was
beautifully staged, gave us some enchanting pictures, one of which,
the apotheosis of the Fairy Realm seen through a tangled hawthorn
brake, lingers hauntingly in one’s memory.
A new edition of “The Dancing Master” was subsequently staged and
was notable for some brilliant dancing by Miss Phyllis Bedells,
and by Mr. Edouard Espinosa in the title-_rôle_, by whom it was
produced. Mr. Espinosa, by the way, forms an interesting link with
the historic past. As the son of Mons. Leon Espinosa (1825-1903),
an Officier D’Académie, Mr. Edouard is heir of a great tradition,
and sustains the heritage most worthily. His father was a pupil of
seven of the great masters of the early nineteenth, namely, Coulon
(1820), Henri (1821), Albert (1829), Perrot (1831), Coralli (1831),
Taglioni (1834), and Petipa (1839), to most of whom reference has
already been made, and who were themselves, variously, pupils of the
previous generation--which included Vestris, Noverre, Gardel, and
Dauberval--who, in turn, were tutored by Pécourt and Beauchamps in
the reign of Louis-Quatorze. Mr. Edouard Espinosa himself is a fine
dancer and teacher of the classic and traditional school, and is also
one of the best informed on the history of the dance.
“Europe,” a topical and patriotic _divertissement_, invented,
designed and produced by Mr. C. Wilhelm (who, despite his _nom de
théâtre_, has an English name and is essentially English born and
bred), achieved, on its first performance on September 7th, 1914, an
instant success. It was worthy of the best traditions of the Empire
Theatre. The choice of such a theme as the condition of Europe,
just before and during the greatest war in history, might have
been called into question on the score of taste, and in the hands
of any but a fine artist might have easily been trivialised. The
subject was treated with marked dramatic ability and poetic dignity,
and the production, passing from the comparative lightness of the
first scene, into the more serious note of the second, attained
to a high level of art in the patriotic symbolism of the third,
and offered a tableau worthy the brush of any English painter of
historical subjects. Since then we have seen “The Vine,” an Arcadian
dance-idyll, invented, designed and supervised by Mr. C. Wilhelm,
while it was produced, and the dances were arranged, by Mr. Fred
Farren. It was superbly staged and proved one of the most original,
picturesque and dramatic productions ever seen at the Empire. Miss
Phyllis Bedell’s impersonation of the Spirit of the Vine seemed to
have in it something of Dionysiac fire and revealed her not only as
an exquisite dancer, but a sensitive and temperamental actress. Miss
Carlotta Mossetti, another singularly expressive and sympathetic
mime, exhibited a sense of classic inspiration in her study of the
young Shepherd tempted by the Vine-Spirit; excellent work also being
done by Miss Connie Walter as the Shepherd’s unhappy wife, and
“Little June,” a lithe and clever little dancer, as the Spirit of
the Mountain Stream. The scenery, painted by Mr. R. C. McCleery;
the costumes, executed by Miss Hastings, were well in keeping with
the poetic character of the story, and the entire stage effect
achieved formed an exquisite setting for the dancer-mimes who were to
interpret the dramatic little idyll.
So runs, in brief, the chronicle of ballet at the Empire, one which,
if it is somewhat attenuated in later years by the increasing
emphasis of that somewhat casual type of entertainment, the “Revue,”
is nevertheless quite remarkable when one remembers that of the
sixty or more ballets produced at the famous house in twenty-seven
years all were commercially as well as artistically successful, and
that the theatre has not received State-aid, as have the continental
opera-houses where Ballet has been a staple attraction.
Thoughtless folk, who know little or nothing of the hard, unremitting
toil which goes to make a dancer, or of the artistic training,
thought and feeling which go to make a designer or producer of
ballet, often speak lightly and slightingly of a type of theatrical
production in which are blended colour, form, movement and music
into a balanced harmony of varied arts under the term the art of
Ballet. They rank it, usually, somewhere lower than Drama or Opera.
But the placing of a colour in a colour scheme requires quite as
delicate a taste as the placing of a word in a sentence, or a chord
in a phrase of music; the introduction of a dancer or a group needs
just as critical a care as the introduction of a character in a play
or opera; and the telling of the story, albeit mutely mimed, may be
just as dramatic in effect as in any verbal drama. The art of Ballet
is a complex and beautiful art, at its best a very beautiful; and
those who are prone to dismiss it lightly as a thing that more or
less occurs of itself, and is of slight account as a vehicle for the
deliberate expression of beauty, should rather feel proud to think
that at the Empire in London we have seen, in the course of a quarter
of a century, Ballet of such artistic value as to place it among the
few real art influences of nineteenth and early twentieth-century
London.
CHAPTER XXXV
FINALE: THE RUSSIANS AND--THE FUTURE
It is curious to recall the fact that a taste for dancing has always
been a characteristic of the Londoners, who have supported really
artistic ballet as often as they have had an opportunity.
The Elizabethan masques; the ballet dancers imported by Rich in the
reign of Anne; and by Garrick, later; by Lumley at Her Majesty’s in
the ’forties; the native productions of Ballet at the Empire and
Alhambra for over a quarter of a century; and, since, the importation
of Russian ballet, first at various “vaudeville” theatres and then
at Covent Garden and at Drury Lane, have all met with enthusiastic
support, and the support has been as catholic as it has been cordial.
Dancers, of various schools, whether of the traditional ballet
“school,” or otherwise, have quickly found their way into popular
favour. Looking back over theatrical memories of the past twenty
years or so, dance lovers will recall with pleasure seeing at the
Palace Theatre that statuesque and extremely graceful dancer,
Miss Mimi St. Cyr, in a delightful little miniature ballet, “La
Baigneuse,” a dance-_scena_ invented by Mr. George R. Sims, in which
she lured to life the fountain-statue of a piping faun. Some will
recall also a dancer of very different school, Miss Lottie Collins,
whose “Tarrara-boom-de-ay” was a sensation in its way. Then, too, who
that saw her could ever forget that electric dancer hailing from
Australia, Mlle. Saharet, who entered as on the wings of a whirlwind
and, seeming all compact of
“Passion and power and pride incarnate in laughter,” held us all
spellbound and breathless with sympathetic joy in her abounding
vitality, stimulating and tonic as champagne.
In more recent times the sensational success of Miss Maud Allan--who
presented us with the somewhat mystical definition of dancing as “the
spontaneous expression of a spiritual state”; and, subsequently,
of Mme. Pavlova and M. Mordkin; is too recent to need recalling,
and too evident to call for specific praise from me when so many
and abler pens have already exhausted their ink in regretting they
could not write in fire. Admirers, particularly feminine devotees,
flocked in hundreds to see Miss Maud Allan dance in a manner which
many doubtless thought wholly new to London, though some might
have recalled that it was somewhat of the same school--though
temperamentally very different--as that of Miss Isadora Duncan, who
had given us dances of a rather similar order some ten years before,
and that they were akin to the mimetic dances of ancient days.
Miss Allan achieved a remarkable flexibility of movement that
was seen to advantage in her dances to the music of Chopin and
other classic masters. Her interpretation of the “Spring Song” of
Mendelssohn was not wholly new to those who had seen Miss Isadora
Duncan’s exposition of the same music some ten years before. Her
“Salome,” a melodrama in dancing, created a sensation, though
somewhat morbid in effect, and hardly of the same artistic interest
as some of her other achievements. Of her popularity there was no
doubt, and a photograph of one of the queues which awaited any
one of her performances, especially the _matinées_, would--if one
exist--always be valuable to future historians of our time as a mute
but eloquent record.
Mme. Pavlova, who also first appeared at the Palace Theatre, is an
extremely accomplished _danseuse_ who probably has not troubled, and
certainly has not _needed_ to trouble herself, about definitions of
the dance, for she belongs to a “school,” the basis of which was
defined a century or more ago, and she herself is one of its most
recent and perfect blossomings. Mons. Mordkin, nurtured by the same
school, is superb, and it was no wonder that the first appearance
of these two artistes in their wonderful _pas de deux_, “L’Automne
Bacchanale,” should have fired some of our finest dramatic critics to
expressions of almost frenzied admiration and doubtless driven shoals
of lesser men to the neighbourhood of Hanwell in despair at the
impossibility of finding suitable adjectives for the new wonder that
had come amongst us. One can only deplore the fact that the harmony
which made possible the _pas de deux_ of the first season should
have been, even temporarily, broken, and permitted us only to enjoy
the work of both dancers subsequently in _pas seuls_, or in _pas de
deux_--with other partners.
One could hardly close a reference to the popular Palace--a reference
necessarily brief, as must be any concerning the various “vaudeville”
houses in a review covering so wide a field--without a passing word
of grateful praise to that bevy of bright young dancers, the “Palace
Girls.” As people of catholic enough taste to enjoy _all_ dancing
that is good in itself--from the vigorous cellar-flap of the street
urchin to the aerial _pas_ of a Pavlova--we may agree that, in a
sense, the Palace has been all the more attractive for the “Palace
Girls.” Somehow the modern comedic spirit appears to express itself
best in short skirts, shapely legs and a jolly smile; and in their
insouciante charm, their neatness, agility, precision and _enfantine_
gaiety, the “Palace Girls” always seemed to focalise the requirements
of “vaudeville,” and symbolise the attractions of music-hall
modernity.
Then, at the London Hippodrome, in many a Christmas entertainment,
ingeniously arranged and gorgeously staged, half pantomime, half
ballet, we have seen regular feasts of dancing and always with
enjoyment. But apart from the spectacular productions for which the
Hippodrome early became famous, many a delightful solo dancer and
dance-_scena_ have been viewed there. To have seen those exquisitely
dainty artists, the Wiesenthal Sisters, is to have ineffaceable
memories of a stage-art that seems strangely enough to link up the
classic simplicity of ancient Greece with the Watteauesque artifice
of the eighteenth century, and yet again the clear-seeing artistry,
the supreme and joyous colour-sense of latter day decorative art.
The tone and hue of their chosen background, the simple yet daring
colour-scheme of their dress, the thoughtful, almost dreamy, grace
of their every pose and movement, the purely picture-like effect of
their whole performance, summed up the modern spirit in art that
is striving--perhaps as yet half-consciously--for a revolt from
old methods and stereotyped traditions and for something simpler,
clearer, more direct and, be it said, more beautiful and vital than
we have yet had; the art, in fact, of the men to come rather than the
men who have been, albeit it has drawn inspiration from the eternal
past. The Wiesenthal Sisters were not mere “performers”; they were
poems.
Elsewhere, at various houses, what other dancers have we seen of
individual distinction? Long remembered must be the sensation caused
by Miss Loie Fuller on her first appearance in London some years
ago, as the introducer of a curious form of dance in which the stage
effects she achieved were the paramount attraction. And what effects
they were--kaleidoscopic, magic, wonderful! Just a woman, with a
brain and shapely form, a mass of filmy draperies floated here and
there, on which were shed the splendour of changing coloured lights,
so that she seemed now some wondrous butterfly, now like a mass of
cloud suffused with the gold of dawn, now like a fountain of living
flame! Yes, Loie Fuller should have been an artist! Should have? _Is_
an artist, who has not painted pictures but has lived them.
Then there was Miss Ruth St. Denis at the Scala--a vision of all
the poetry and the mystery of the East. Ruth St. Denis in an Indian
market-place representing a snake-dance, making cobras of her
flexible arms and hands! Ruth St. Denis as a Buddhist acolyte in the
jungle! Ruth St. Denis in a “Dance of the Senses,” so significantly
poetic and full of strange allure. Always the glamour of the East,
but without its menace and without its vice; the East exalted and
austere. Moreau himself might have envied her those dreams of form
and colour she made manifest, and all who saw her surely must have
realised that Ruth St. Denis danced her lovely pictures as an artist
born.
Yet another artist of marked individuality and intellectual
distinction, Miss Isadora Duncan, was really the first to appear
in London who showed any marked ability to break away from the
traditional schools of ballet and step-dancing, and, casting back
to the days of ancient Greece, began deliberately to use posture
and movement as a means of expressing poetic ideas. I first saw her
at her London _début_, when she appeared in a performance of “A
Midsummer Night’s Dream,” one of a series of Shakespearian revivals
which Mr. F. R. Benson was giving--on February 22nd, 1900--at the old
Lyceum.
She had but lately arrived from America, and was fired with an
enthusiasm for the graceful dance of classic days, an enthusiasm
which found ample expression in her dance as a wood-nymph in a
Shakespearian production which I still remember as one of the most
beautiful I have seen. Shortly after Miss Duncan gave a special
_matinée_ at the old St. George’s Hall entitled, “The Happier Age
of Gold,” at which idylls of Theocritus, poems by Swinburne and
other poets of classic inspiration, were recited to music and were
either accompanied or followed by an appropriate dance designed
and performed by Miss Duncan, who also set herself the task of
interpreting well-known musical _morceaux_ by means of a dance.
One of the items on her programme was Mendelssohn’s “Spring Song,”
which received a thoroughly graceful and sympathetic interpretation.
Miss Duncan has, of course, appeared in London frequently since then,
and all dance-lovers will remember the extraordinary charm of the
series of _matinées_ which she gave at the Duke of York’s Theatre at
which she introduced a number of child pupils. There has never been
anything meretricious or pretentious about the work of Miss Isadora
Duncan. It has always been marked by a sense of deep-rooted culture,
classic dignity and poetic charm, and to her, certainly, so far as
London is concerned, belongs the credit of having first introduced a
form of dancing which has only too often since been parodied under
the term of “classic dancing”; and even as she was the first, so, in
my humble judgment, she is the best and truest exponent of a school
which is justified by the beauty of its results, and which is having,
and is likely yet to have, far-reaching influence.
[Illustration:
_Dover St. Studios_
Miss Isadora Duncan]
Then again, the Coliseum, young as it is, has already created dance
traditions for itself, and of the best sort. Was it not there first
of all that we were enchanted with the Russian ballet? They were not
the first Russian dancers seen in London, for Mlle. Kyasht and Mme.
Pavlova had preceded them; but they were the first collective example
of Russian ballet from the Moscow and Petrograd Opera-Houses, and
it was here we first saw Mme. Karsavina, one of the most supremely
finished and _élégante_ dancers it has been London’s good fortune
to see. What lightness, what purity and dignity of style, what
perfect execution and perfect ease, and what poetic charm!
Her _variation_ in the “Sylphide” was a revelation of classic art of
the Taglioni school, and howsoever some may prefer one “school” to
another there must always be much to be said for a training which
assists the evolution of such artists, for at least it is a sure
training with sure and gracious results.
There is something in tradition when all it said and done, and one
has to remember that while even an iconoclastic “Futurist” cannot
help creating tradition in attempting to do away with it, and while
pure ballet-dancing may not be the one and only kind which can
give delight, it must command the respect that is due to any art
which respects its own traditions, and can produce such dancers as
Mme. Karsavina and those who were first associated with her at the
Coliseum.
More recently, we were to see at the same house, “Sumurun!” It was
strange indeed to think that a London audience could be held by some
seven scenes of a play in which not a word was spoken; it was a _tour
de force_ of the art of miming, but then also it was a revelation of
the art of stage effect. The decorative scheme, with its simple lines
and ample space, was unlike anything that we had had before--unless
perhaps in the nobler art of Mr. Gordon Craig--and the colour
schemes, mostly of a curiously dry, cool note, were a pleasant change
from the traditional attempts at a stage realism that is only too
often too unreal.
Since then too there was, of course, the appearance of that dainty
Dresden-china dancer, Mme. Karina in a graceful little dance-_scena_,
“The Colour of Life,” the expressive music of which was by Miss
Dora Bright. Mme. Karina, another dancer who hails from Denmark,
won instant appreciation for the beauty of her work, and is indeed
notable for her precision, grace and distinction.
Yet again has Mlle. Adeline Génée made welcome reappearances at
the Coliseum, especially in “La Danse”--first produced, I believe,
at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York--which formed a series
of representations of the dances and dancers of the historic
past--forming practically a collection of little cameos of the dance,
having a distinct educational value and presenting a veritable
re-creation of all the great stars of Ballet in the past, from Prévôt
to Taglioni; in all of which the world-famous dancer exhibited the
same high qualities of artistry that she had ever done.
But among the many dance productions seen at this handsome house
probably the two most satisfactory judged as ballet were the
production of Mr. Wilhelm’s “Camargo,” with Mlle. Génée in the
title-_rôle_; and M. Kosloff’s production of “Scheherazade,” the two
forming an outstanding contrast in one’s memory. The former, with
the quiet dignity, soft light and sumptuous stage embellishments
of furniture and _décors_, and the dream-like quality assumed by
the characters in this rich and harmonious setting. One found in it
something of that visionary quality which gave the peculiar charm
to the “Versailles” production which I spoke of in referring to the
Empire. The music and the acting were so expressive that one did not
miss the words, and yet half-consciously one knew they were not there
just because of the dream-like atmosphere which the music itself so
helped to create.
The royal grace and dignity of Louis-Quinze, the butterfly vivacity
of Camargo herself, and the more vital and quieter actions of her
young soldier friend for whose misdeeds she pleads for pardon from
the King, were all but dream figures in a dream, and it was as if
the veil of the past had been suddenly drawn aside and one had a
glimpse of a century seen through the half light of early dawn. Once
more Mlle. Génée excelled herself in doing apparently impossible
things with consummate ease, and once more one was glad to welcome
the sensitive, expressive and scholarly work of so accomplished a
musician as Miss Dora Bright.
There was nothing of the cool and dream-like quality, however,
about Mons. Kosloff’s “Scheherazade.” Exotic, bizarre, palpitant
with warmth and colour, the production stormed the imagination with
its extravagance of hue and tone, even as the tangled rhythms and
seductive melodies of the music captured the hearing and through it
subdued the mind to a sort of dazzled wonder. It was a stupendous
achievement, the more so in that it was brief.
At various times and at various places we have seen in London during
the past ten years or so every form of dance and ballet it would
seem could possibly exist. “Sand” dances; “Buck” dances; “Hypnotic”
dances; “Salome” dances; “Vampire” dances; “Apache,” “Classic,”
“Viennese,” Turkish, Egyptian, Russian, “Inspirational” dancers, and
even English ballet-dancers in an all-British ballet once at the
handsome Palladium; and also at the Court and Savoy, where Stedman
staged some delightful ballets performed, under the direction of Miss
Lilian Leoffeler and Mr. Marshall Moore, by English dancers. Not only
at the regular vaudeville houses and theatres, however, is to be
found genuine appreciation of the British dance and dancer. Elsewhere
an English school of dance has been founded, and that in a form for
which the English nation was famous in Shakespeare’s time.
Henley made his plea for “Gigues, Gavottes and Minuets,” but there
are many other lovely, or lovelier, examples of old-world dance to
old-world music, which scholarship has revived and good taste has
been eagerly accepting wherever they were seen--_Pavane_, _Chaconne_,
_Coranto_, _Galliard_, _Bourrée_, _Rigaudon_, _Passepied_, and
_Sarabande_. These, and other ancient dances, were, as we know, the
delight of the Courts of Queen Elizabeth, of Charles II, of Anne,
of Louis-Quatorze--_le Grand Monarque_, of Louis-Seize and Marie
Antoinette. Many have been revived and performed to the music of
the harpsichord, violin, viola, viole-d’amour, and ’cello; and the
curious thing--or, rather, interesting thing, for it really is not
strange--is that both to scholars and to those unlearned in their
history, to cultured townsman or woman, and to country lad and lass,
to bored frequenters of the West End drawing-room, and to those who
find only in their dreams relief from the sordidness of an East End
environment, this old-world dance and music make an instant appeal.
I saw this put to the test once when, at a hall in the somewhat dingy
neighbourhood of Bethnal Green, a performance of the “Ancient Music
and Dances,” arranged by Miss Nellie Chaplin, was received by an
audience of East End work-people with such whole-hearted enthusiasm
that practically every item in a programme often performed in West
End drawing-rooms and at Queen’s and Albert Halls, as well as at
Liverpool and Manchester, Guildford, Oxford and elsewhere, was
encored, and several were doubly and trebly so.
A Galliard of the seventeenth century, an Allemande by an English
composer, Robert Johnson (1540-1626), Handel’s Oboe Concerto (1734),
a Sarabande by Destouches (1672), “Lady Elizabeth Spencer’s Minuet”
performed at Blenheim in 1788--all these and other historically
interesting items were encored by the audience, not because of
their historic interest, but simply because of their joyousness and
charm; while a _bourrée_ by Mouret (1742), and the fascinating Old
English dance, “Once I loved a maiden fair” (one of a group including
“Althea,” “Lord of Carnarvon’s Jig,” and Stanes’ Morris-dance) had
to be given three times. This was all complimentary, of course, to
the beautiful way in which the dances and music were performed; but
it was an interesting revelation of the eternal appeal to humanity,
whatsoever the degree of caste or wealth, of the really good thing in
art, and certainly the centuries are bridged with ease by the charm
and joyousness of these old-time dances to their appropriate music,
seen and heard more recently and to such advantage amid congenial
environment in “Shakespeare’s England” at Earl’s Court.
Veritably we seem to have seen every known form of dance and type of
dancer in London during the past twenty years or so, and latterly we
have had at the Royal Opera-House, and, since, at Drury Lane, such a
festival of ballet as has not been seen in England since the ’forties
of last century, for here we have seen a galaxy of dancers from the
two great opera-houses of Russia, that of the Mariensky at Petrograd,
and that of the great theatre in Moscow, where the traditional
training for ballet has been kept up and infused with a new artistic
spirit such as is hardly to be found in any other continental
opera-house.
Early in last century Carlo Blasis brought the Milan school to
perfection, and thence went teachers to Paris, Vienna, Dresden,
Moscow, Petrograd, wherever they went carrying something of the
artistic spirit and culture of their master, one of the most
versatile _maîtres de ballet_ there has ever been, for there seems to
have been scarcely an art of which he did not know something, and of
which he could not say something worth hearing.
But since those days probably nowhere quite as in Russia has the
ballet moved with the times and been so imbued with the new artistic
spirit which has been at work within the past generation.
Painter, musician, poet, dramatist, and _maître de ballet_, are
called upon to produce the homogeneous and individual spectacle which
we call the Russian ballet.
One has to recall but a few examples from the Russian _répertoire_ to
note with what serious artistic purpose the art of Ballet is studied
by the representatives of the best school. Glazounov’s “Cleopatra,” a
“mimodrame” in one act; “Les Sylphides,” a _rêverie romantique_, the
music by Chopin; Schumann’s exquisitely whimsical “Le Carnaval,” made
into a pantomime-ballet in one act; “Le Dieu Bleu,” by that curiously
interesting and _rêveur_ composer Reynaldo Hahn. These are among
the productions which, ranging over classic, poetic and romantic
subjects, would veritably have appealed to such artists of the
Ballet as Rameau, Noverre, Gardel and Blasis, not to mention other
_maîtres_ of more recent times. And what dancers to interpret them!
M. Nijinsky, perhaps the best male dancer of our time, so good that
one’s usual objection to the male dancer melted into admiration: Mme.
Karsavina, Mlles. Sophie Fedorova and Ludmilla Schollar were among
the _danseuses_ who had been seen in London previously, and were
each in their degree remarkable not only as dancers but as brilliant
mimes. There was not one among the extensive and interesting cast who
was not of Russia’s best, the best that is that can come from the
school where the traditional art of Ballet is understood not to be
the result of a mere few lessons in “dancing,” but the result of a
study also of all that is best in the traditions of art and music and
literature, from all of which the art of Ballet draws its inspiration.
Yet again, one must pay tribute to the Russian artists on their
masterly sense of stage effect, and for that supreme sense of what
the ballet should be, namely, a harmony of the arts. One has but to
contrast three such productions as “Les Sylphides,” “Cleopatra,” and
Schumann’s “Carnaval,” to see a revelation of stage artistry which
put to shame the conventionality which, save in rare instances--and
in English ballet--had characterised the London stage so long.
In “Les Sylphides” we had the very essence of that spirit of
romanticism in which cultured Europe was revelling during the
’twenties and the ’thirties of last century, a spirit which found
expression in depicting the wildness and grandeur of mountain
scenery, in the cloud-like fantasies of Shelley, in the poignant
intensity of Byronic passion, and the romantic glamour of Spanish and
German legend.
In “Cleopatra” we had a glimpse of the pride and passion of an
imperious Queen, ruling over a nation whose own passions were but
subdued by tyranny, in a land where earth itself seemed satiated
with the fructifying influence of water and a burning sun. From the
first moment to the last the stage was in a glow, and a red thread of
tragedy deepened to a climax of despair.
What a change to turn from such a production to the whimsies, romance
and fantasy of such a thing as Schumann’s “Carnaval!” Here was the
obverse of the romanticism of “Les Sylphides”; the undercurrent of
mockery and poetic cynicism so characteristic of Schumann’s own music
in its lighter moods, characteristic of Heine and of de Musset. Here
again one found a masterly idea in the audacious simplicity of the
stage setting. To see the great stage of Covent Garden decorated
with long curtains and two sofas of the truly early-Victorian
pattern--stiff, prim, unyielding, and covered with striped repp--was
a thing to take one’s breath away, until, as the music began, little
figure after little figure slipped, like figures in a dream, between
the curtains: Pierrot, Pierrette, Harlequin--little men and women of
the ’thirties mingling with these eternal characters of drama, to
make a series of pictures of wooings and repulses, of meetings and
partings, of provocations and denials, revealing the comedy of life,
seen as it were in a glass “not darkly,” but as a dream far off and
mistily; eminently unreal; yet, in some other world far, far away,
in some mysterious land of dreams, one felt such things perchance
might be.
“Le Sacre du Printemps” was an ambitious attempt at primitivism--if
one may use the word--but while disliking its suggestion of
megalomania and the formlessness of its decoration, one could not
but admire so audacious an endeavour to break wholly with tradition;
and it was redeemed by the virility and fantastic, mocking humour
and scenic splendour of Rimsky-Korsakov and Michel Fokine’s “Le Coq
d’Or,” and still more by the beauty of Leon Bakst and Tcherepinin’s
“Narcisse,” and the poetic charm of “Le Spectre de la Rose.”
These, however, are but brief impressions of recent pleasures, shared
by many others who may have been differently impressed. We have had
many books and articles on the Russian ballet--some perhaps a little
over-enthusiastic--and it is not my purpose to deal extensively with
history so recent that most readers can as readily give account
thereof.
When all is said, the significant fact remaining is--that at this
end of the history of an art some two thousand years old we find
most recently in popular favour not English ballet as it was in the
sixteenth-century days of the essentially English Masque; not French
as it was in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; not Italian,
as it was in the ’forties of last century; nor English as we have
seen it, at its best, at the Empire and Alhambra in the past quarter
of a century; but the Russian ballet! the balance of the arts;
which the Russians have only been able to do _by sheer technical
efficiency_--quite apart from ideas or ideals expressed--in _all_
the arts of which ballet is composed, and which has enabled them to
do exactly that which they have set out to do. That, perhaps, is the
one thing that Russian ballet has shown us, which is of the greatest
value and significance for any lovers of the art in any capital of
the world.
[Illustration:
_E. O. Hoppé_
Mme. Karsavina and M. Adolf Bolm in “L’Oiseau de Feu”]
One may ask, however, what is the position of England in regard not
only to ballet, but to the other arts? We have State, and County
Council Art and Craft schools; we have the Royal Academy of Music,
the Royal College, the Guildhall School, and numerous private schools
and “academies” where music and the dramatic arts are taught; all
admirable as far as they go. We have, as yet, no State-aided theatre
and no State-aided opera-house, to which, as on the Continent, an
academy for the study of the dance and ballet is attached. Is it not
strange that the richest city in the world should be deficient in
these things?
It may be that there is greater vitality in the arts when they are
pursued only under the conditions of competitive, private enterprise;
but it is curious that in practically every other country the
dramatic arts have been fostered by the State, and that we in this
country seem ever to show a greater welcome to foreign singers and
dancers than we do to our own.
There is, of course, always a great danger that an institution,
secure in the support it receives from the State, may become
conventional; the spirit of its art may grow arid and unprofitable,
but at least it ensures a standard of technical efficiency, and, if
there be a vital spirit in the nation, that spirit will show itself
in the work of such an institution. Russia has proved all this.
Given a National Opera-House, to which were attached a Royal Academy
of Dancing, what might the future of Ballet be in this country?
The answer depends mainly, one feels, on the extent of the
possibilities to which the art of Ballet could be realised by those
who lead in the artistic expression of the national spirit. The poet,
the artist, the musician, the Master of Dance, and the dancers--men
and women--realising the possibilities of the composite art of
Ballet, might foreshadow possibilities greater than any we have
seen. Yet greater possibilities might be foreshadowed of one who was
all these things; and could combine (as Mr. Gordon Craig would have
the master of the Art of the Theatre combine) _all_ the arts of the
theatre.